Empha's Children

Ceremony

The path from the Nexus to the main hall was lit by rows of torches and lined with hanging tapestries; men in overalls and women in bonnets lived simple lives in the beginning, then the art grew more violent, with knives, murders, and fire. As they moved further through the halls, the reds of war grew into blues as a man in armor took the stage in front of a large crowd, his sword at his side and his fist raised high into the air. Animals gathered beside and behind him and he moved from the podium to the throne, capped by a shining crown. Then further war, rebellion from the mountains, where the outcasts had been swept by the forces of the King. The attackers were vanquished, but the King laid slain on the field, his generals surrounding and mourning him. Then the walls were green with fertility — fields bloomed, children were born, schools were built, and prosperity returned to the villages and towns that had been so ravaged by war. But even as they turned the final corner and the light of day was shining through the stained glass high above them, the throne was vacant.

“What happened to the king?” David asked.

“The Kindred King died, murdered by the last of the cowards two hundred years ago.” Makrin said with spit in his throat.

“Greatness is feared as well as respected.” Atham said in a whisper.

They continued to walk in silence, as they reached a gathering of other children. Maybe three dozen of them, forty at most. They milled in a large chamber where giant wooden exit doors dominated the fall wall.

“This is an odd sort of school.” Andriana said, with a slight tremble in the final word. “What are we waiting for now?”

Trumpets sounded outside, muffled by the walls, but still clear in the silent hall, and the doors began to creak open, pushing dust and dirt across the floor in their wake. “Looks like they were waiting for us,” Ellena replied.

The fanfare was accompanied by the loud rumble of voices, too far away and muted to understand, but numerous enough to fill David’s imagination. The first of the children was taken by his escort through the doors, and the roar of the crowd grew many times over, vibrating the floor under his feet and sending him, Ellena, and Andriana closer together through instinct alone.

Another boy went next, forcefully lifted by the large man attending to him, and again the crowd swelled to acknowledge him.

“Do I have to wait my turn?” David asked as the noise died down. Makrin looked down to him, then to the other men, and finally furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Have your invitation ready.”

“Wait, wait, wait, what?” Ellena tugged on his collar and he found himself tripping yet again. “You’re just going out there? Are you insane?”

The crowd outside cheered again as another of the children moved through the open doors, and all three of them cringed at the volume.

“I’d rather go now than wait and go later.” David said as the sound simmered to a low roar, “This will take an hour, at least.”

“That’s... that’s true, I guess,” She said, “But still.”

“Once he moves forward, more will follow.” Atham said, “Best to move as a group.”

“I’m going.” David said. There was something here worth seeing, and he wasn’t about to let all of these kids see it before him. If the crowd outside cheered for him when he saw it, then all the better.

Makrin led him as they pushed through the loose gathering of confused teenagers. Many of them were wearing normal clothes, but some wore pajamas or sports uniforms. None looked as regal as Andriana, and none stood out as much as David, as he stepped forward into the empty space in front of the door, followed closely by the two girls.