Echoes

Showdown with Sevnynate

Forsephore sat on a low black wall that formed the rim of one of the plaza fountains. With a thin, gray finger she traced the etchings in the marble and remembered Echoes that represented Ideals long forgotten.

This is natural. This is normal. Some dreams are born of youthful ignorance, some of naive idealism, and some are simply never meant to be.

Then why do I feel such a sense of loss for each one?

"Hey, 'Phore!" Sicstuphyve jogged toward the fountain and beckoned. The fit version of Hope seemed entertained as she wove through the scattered throng of lethargic Withers and Fades. Farther behind, Sixicstene tried to keep up, her breath ragged. Forsephore rose as Sicstuphyve drew near. "You're being summoned to the Hub, 'Phore. Officially--like, by the order of the Chief Alpha. You're to come at once."

"Any idea what this is about?"

"Not a clue," Sicstuphyve responded. "But Sevnynate is grinning like a bully in a gym class game of dodgeball, so it's not gonna be good."

Forsephore considered taking some time, delaying the inevitable frustration that Sevnynate by nature created. But if the Chief already let her smug attitude show, it didn't seem wise to push more buttons on her explosive temper.

The entrance to the Hub lacked its usual bustle and traffic--conspicuously so, Forsephore decided. That meant anyone with enough thought and Inspiration to access the Hub was likely already within. And that meant some news about this summons had already leaked.

Forsephore stepped through the doors and marveled the array of light from the gathered Echoes. Sevnynate's rule concerning a minimum required level of Inspiration for entry resulted in a sea of illuminated faces and bodies, all of them perfect replicas of Hope with varied interests and attire the only way to distinguish one from another on sight.

Among the upper castes, Forsephore had a few friends to whom she'd granted Inspiration--particularly the Alphas she'd managed to place in power. And gossip through the middle level castes indicated a lot of support for Forsephore's selflessness toward newcomers. Some Ideals long thought forgotten were rekindled, so others seemed optimistic about their own chances at realizing the dream they represented.

Standing before Sevnynate is where dreams go to die, Forsephore thought. The Chief Alpha sat at the central position on the dais, leaning back and to the left. I'm surprised she doesn't just throw her feet up on the desk.

"Echo Four Seven Four," Wonforoh declared from the podium, "you are summoned at the will of the Chief among Alphas, Echo Seven Nine Eight. Take your place before the Court."

Formal talk meant legal proceedings, not a simple scolding or personal challenge.  Forsephore walked toward the center of the circular floor, under Sevnynate's watchful eye--along with the attention of nearly everyone she'd ever known. Though her fear drove her heart to thump at a breakneck pace, she raised a haughty chin and stared down the Chief.

"What's this about, Sev?"

"Settling a point of order," Sevnynate said, unmoved from her comfortable spot. "Wonforoh, do the honor, please."

"You may now make your petition," Wonforoh said from the podium.

"I was summoned," Forsephore said. "I'm not making any petition, nor do I request the opportunity. Is that all?"