Lost

Testing

I stride towards the podium, heart pounding. This is where I will be pretested to see which time slot I'll go in.

My first area of testing is debate. I've prepared the pro and con sides of two topics, and I have to debate whichever one they give me.

The man in a black suit nods at me with a fake, sickly-sweet smile.

"Maren Dariole?" He speaks snidely, clearly sure I'll fail this portion. After all, the baker-family's daughter wouldn't be smart. However, I'm no ordinary baker's help. I almost wish my last name didn't tell everyone that I'm of the Baker Family.  I'm amazing Maren. But that is what I'll escape if I do this right- the Darioles left forever behind.

I nod. Once I step to the podium, I wait for him to speak again as is customary.

"You will be debating the opposition's side for the topic 'The House Would Eliminate Life Without Parole For All Adults'." He is curt and says only the absolutely necessary.

I wait three seconds, just long enough for glances to slide away from me, and begin my speech.

It is perfectly to the point and sprinkled with the exact right amount of humor to make everyone's eyes never for a second stray from my face, which is of course devoid of any emotion other than determination and conviction. As soon as I finish speaking and lightly bow, applause is rampant. The man in the black suit stares at me with some kind of emotion, probably shock.

After a moment, I take my seat again. Evelyn Gaita, my best friend, smiles at me. Unlike me, she'll become a Special. Her family is musicians, and she's a violist that excels at her craft. I'm just smart, so I'll be a Wealthy.

"Mar, you were great!" she hisses in my ear.

I just nonchalantly smile and look at the next person, last before our next portion. Like all the others, he is nowhere near as good as I am. So my heart is calm as we collectively walk to the adjacent room, where the 'common sense' part is. I ace it as well, and likewise ace the third portion, normal standardized tests, easily. It comes of no surprise when I get placed in the first slot- it goes in order of best to worst.

As I slip quietly into the next room, my hands slightly shaking, I try to spy my family in the crowd. Of course, since they're working class, they technically won't be my true family anymore, and I'll be placed with more wealthy class people who will care for me. Because I'm not a Working or a Poor. I'm clearly a Wealthy.
And I am; they call my name after a minute.
"Congratulations to Maren Dariole, Lily Emacity.." they drone. "... and Caroline Zyrian. You will all become Wealthies. Please make your way to the door marked WEALTHIES where you will see the families you may pick from."

I stride purposefully, keeping my excitement to a discreet smile, towards the door. But they call us back.

"Oh! Come back, children! I'm sorry, there has been a mistake. This year, we would like to try something different. Each sept ducere, or sept leader for the younger children, has picked the student or students they would like to bring to their sept. No sept gets its own child, however, and no sept will not choose a child; no child will go unchosen. Because there are more children than there are septs, each sept ducere was permitted to pick up to ten children. Therefore, all two hundred seventy-nine children have a new sept," the pretty lady says.

I'm pretty sure she's a Possident. A rich, healthy, middle-aged woman. Basically what I want to be. But now if the sept duceres get to pick? I'll get landed with some stupid sept that I'll hate. I might be a Poor, for all I know.

I dwell on that for a while until the first sept ducere steps to the podium. It's Ducere Aspergillum, the religious head, like the pope we learned that the Old World had for the religion that they called Catholic. She's rich, but her sister-in-law was demoted to Working last summer. It was a huge disgrace for the Aspergilla, and this is the Ducere's first public appearance.

"I will be picking ten students who I believe have shown great religious enthusiasm. Each will benefit themselves, each other, the Aspergillum sept, and the wonderful world of Periapt that we know and love. These ten students are.." None of them are me. So I kind of doze off. But it's after Ducere Razzia that my attention is pulled to the stage- and everyone else is, too.

Ducere Taniwha, ducere of the swimming sept, is about to speak. But a woman, cloaked in shadows and shrouded in mystery, steps to the podium. The Ducere gently allows her the podium, surprised but always giving. All the Taniwha are like that.

The woman does not speak. She instead waves a hand in soothing, rhythmic motions. We all understand her message, though no words are spoken. She simply continues her motions despite her audience faltering. Zoe, a shy girl who showed up in our community three months ago and was accepted by my former family of Darioles, turns to me, her eyes wild and nervous and fiery.

The woman's message is clearly understood by Zoe. By the others.

I seem to be the only one.

Who doesn't understand.

Who watches for a meaning in all of this.

Because Solander was gone many years before my time.

So how can this be true? Is the woman real? Is this the final test?

Or is this just the beginning.

Something has begun that I cannot and will not understand.

So I keep my attention. Waiting.

For the meaning of those three words to rise up and become clear.

Solander has risen.

It cannot be true. But it must be.

Who is this woman?

She smiles gently at me, and pauses her hands to beckon me up to the stage. I obey, my mind blurred and dizzy with this onslaught of new information. Zoe, too, walks, though for her it's more of a horse's giddy trot than a walk, like my pace is.

When I reach the stage, the woman shakes my hand. Through her eyes, she tells me that I am one of Solander's chosen. So is Zoe. So are Lilian Taniwha and Heather Dragoman, I presume due to their being on the platform too. Six others, whom I don't know, stand with us too, and we all look confused and excited. Most of them are in our age group, but two look younger. Maybe they're siblings.

Lilian, birthed of the swimming sept but known for her fighter-like personality, is argumentative already. She breaks the silence that we've upheld with an aggressive accusation.

"You're a liar; why would any sept known for its mystery choose seven headstrong girls, no boys, and no quiet, contemplative people?" she attacks with a growl.

I agree, but I wouldn't have said a thing. I know that to accuse a Ducere is to be rude and disrespectful, and Lilian must have forgotten this lesson.

Lilian waits for her answer, glaring.

The woman looks at Lilian.

"You will understand," she begins aloud, later. She ends in our heads, a demonstration of the lost powers of our country. Solander is the only sept (besides perhaps the lost sept of Misogamy) that never lost those powers, clearly.

I see Evelyn, who clearly wants to run up here and interrogate the woman. She looks scared, but she was chosen for a real Sept, so she doesn't have to worry. Unfortunately, I'm stuck with stupid Lilian and stuck-up, wanna-be queen bee Heather.

I'm Isolt. Named after the founder of Ilvermorny in those books from long ago. You must come with me now, and leave the rest of Periapt behind. They will forget what happened. Make your choice; but know that if you stay, you will never remember that you were chosen to be a Solander, and your life will be normal. If you choose to join me, anyone and everyone that knew you will forget about you. You will never be able to go back. In their eyes, you never existed. We must hurry now. Make your choice.

One of the girls, a rich Emacity from the looks of her, rolls her eyes and walks off the platform. I want to follow her. But I don't.

Two other girls, one younger and one who's my age, dash off the platform, and the three girls merge with the audience. I decide to stay. After all, anything's better than staying in this place.
Right?