Avery's fingers move methodically across the violin's neck, in rhythm with the rise and fall of the bow. The melody issued from it is gloomy, as if the violin itself is sighing. Avery stares out the window as she plays, off in a daydream. Ever since she was little she would often escape into her imagination, to relieve the monotony of the days. Her heart aches to be somewhere else. A meadow with a stream crossing through, a forest with trees towering high above the clouds, wide open space with nothing but the stars. But over all, she is mostly lonely. A few bruises dot her face, from the previous day. She attempted to cover them with foundation but they still show through under the light. Her mother wouldn't have noticed anyway. Advisor Lemaire has more important things on her mind. Avery has no siblings, her mother having separated from her father before she was born. She was taught at her home, so she spent most of her childhood behind the gate of her house. The only children she knew were other advisors' children but they often ignored the timid little girl. Avery would spend most of her time reading, to feel less lonesome. She became naive, most of her understanding of people coming from stories. All the sudden there is a sharp knock at her door. "Coming!" Carefully, she places her violin in its velvet-lined case and approaches the door. She turns the brass door handle. A guard dressed in a dark blue uniform with gold fringe, stands at her door. The guard's uniform distinguishes her as part of an elite group who protects high-ranking officials versus the light blue and silver uniform normal Legion soldiers wear.
"Mr. Turner is here to see you," states the guard.
"He is? I wasn't expecting him."
"Yes Miss, he's down a floor, in the study."
"Thank you." The guard moves out of her way. Avery descends the staircase and walks down the blue colored hall. The door to the study stands ajar. In the room sits Daric in a desk chair and Advisor Lemaire is seated on a red loveseat parallel to him. Daric's light blue eyes flit to Avery standing quietly at the door.
"Come in," he says, gesturing for her to enter. She does this, standing by the loveseat at which her mother sits. "Have we met properly," he asks.
"Not to my recollection sir."
"Oh please, call me Daric." He stands and shakes her hand, his grip firm. She bows her head slightly, as a sign of respect. "Please have a seat." She sits, her hands folded in her lap.
"I am sorry I am dressed so plainly, I had no idea you would be coming."
"Nonsense, you look beautiful." His blue eyes are cold, even as he says this, as if he is calculating her every movement.
"Thank you," Avery replies. He stares into her eyes and she looks down, unnerved.
"I must be going," he states suddenly.
"So soon?" Advisor Lemaire asks.
"I have some important business to attend to." He stands and so does Advisor Lemaire, followed by her daughter.
"Goodbye Advisor Lemaire, and thank you for letting me into your home." He turns to Avery and takes her hand. "I hope to see you again Avery." He kisses her hand. Daric leaves the room and Avery goes back to her room, slightly shaken.
"Idris!"
"What?"
"Are you listening to me?"
"Yea," Idris replies. She sits at a table in a roomy garrett with Caleb, Jason, Rosaline, and Lily. Aaron stands, leaning his back against the wall, weary of sitting. Candles are placed around the room, scattering light on their faces. Bottles adorn the table, in various states of emptiness. Windows to the left of the table, displaying the street below. A few people wander the streets, illuminated by the moonlight. The moonlight is waning, the moon slowly becoming lower in the sky. Yet, the occupants of the loft are still awake.
Caleb asks, "Then what did I just say?"
"Words." Rosaline laughs and Caleb sighs, exasperated with his sister. Lily looks like she is repressing a smile.
"Why can't you concentrate?" Lily asks gently.
Idris shrugs. "I have no idea," she replies, rubbing her eyes, starting to actually feel the time internally. She changes the subject, artfully dodging the question. "Why did you call us here at this hour, Aaron?"
"I didn't want the chance of being overheard downstairs."
"What's so important that is has to interrupt my sleep?" Rosaline asks, her coffee-brown eyes weary, tucking a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear.
"There is talk of an attack being planned on high-ranking officials houses. An act of rebellion to give hope to those who have no voice. There is a lot of risk, death is likely. However if that's the price one must pay for freedom..." He pauses, thinking, "Then I will risk it."
"I will too," Jason states quietly, staring at Aaron.
Lily looks at him concernedly. "I will join him too."
"And me," declares Caleb.
"And I," Rosaline replies.
"It's settled," says Aaron, he glances at Idris. She is staring at her reflection in her bottle. "What about you Summers?" Idris nods.
"Long live liberty!" Rosaline yells, raising her bottle.
"Long live liberty!" The rest respond.
"Long live liberty," repeats Idris, the words tasting bitter in her mouth.
YOU ARE READING
Outcasts
Science Fiction"In the twenty second century civilization has crumbled from war. From the ashes rose a new society of the survivors, but it is worse than ever before." Idris Summers, a truculent nineteen year-old, is part of the lowest class of society, which is g...
