One Soul

Chapter One: The Very Last One

When she was thirteen, although she didn't know it yet, her father came to her room and knocked on the door. Well, it wasn't so much of a room as it was the attic of their house-a large house when compared to the island-where Fallyn had been confined to shortly after her fifth birthday. Her old room had been converted to a nursery for the Graces' much wanted second child. A bright, rosy-cheeked little child of their own would salvage what was left of their auspicious reputation, and show that it wasn't the Graces to blame for their adopted daughter. Unfortunately, they were unable to conceive another child and inevitably pinned the blame of their cursed daughter. 

"Fallyn, dear, today is a very special day. Do you know why?" He asked, his mouth straining a smile that didn't meet his eyes. "It's the Festival of Souls, and this year you will be in attendance."

The Festival of Souls was a much celebrated holiday that took place every year between the last day of the former year and the first day of the next. Every thirteen year old was dressed in ceremonial clothing while the entire island gathered to await the Heralds; two magical figures that took two children every year never to be seen again, the brightest soul and the dimmest. Despite that, the people celebrated and honored those who were taken, even the one with the lesser soul, because they were heroes for the spirits above, weren't they? Those who weren't chosen were still favored, but their ceremonial robes cast aside as they were now deemed unworthy. Theories about their fate often swirled around in an excited flurry; that they served the Angel Queen, Agnete, and the Demon King, Andrian as members of the Heavenly legion or became members of a High Court up above. 

Fallyn had never been, as people were repulsed by her presence and she would only cause trouble should she be let out. Picturing grand festivities, her eyes lit up and her father chuckled uncomfortably. "I have permission to attend, Papa?" she asked, trying to contain a huge grin. 

Her father laid out a pile of clothes on the small bed. "Yes, you do. These are some old robes from your mother to wear, and a priest is meeting with us later today to properly cleanse you for your meeting with the Heralds. Who knows, maybe you'll be chosen as the least soulful child?"

Fallyn bounced on her toes, looking at the robes. Even if they were old and "unclean" they were hers to wear, and outside at that! She had studied about the Festival for years, seeing how books were her only teacher and companion during her life, and knew all the proper rules. Don't wear any shoes to show your reverence towards the earth. Keep your hair natural and untied to show humility towards the heavens. The only jewelry allowed were silver bands adorned with small bells, and the only makeup would be a symbol on the forehead made with holy ink. For the entirety of the ceremony you must not talk or eat, and must stay standing until the Heralds come and go. The bitter comment about her soul brushed past her, instead filling her with a sudden hope. If she was chosen, would she not be celebrated on the island instead of beaten?

Her father left the room quickly, and Fallyn began preparing herself. Before putting on any of the robes she careful cleaned her skin with a wet cloth and brushed through her hair until it shone. Then she carefully fastened the heavy cloth around her the way it was done in the books, similar to a Greek himation, and put on the silver bands. The ink must be done by a priest, so Fallyn spent the rest of the day peering out the window waiting for one to come to her house. 

When he arrived, it was an older man with grey hair. All the priests wore expensive clothing and had an emblem of golden wings on their tall hats. For today, most of them would be holding a small bowl of holy ink and have a black tint on their index finger. Fallyn nearly ran down the stairs in glee, but restrained herself in his presence. Her drew on her forehead a curve like a smile, with a dot in the center of it. When he finished, he smiled fondly at her.

"I remember you, Fallyn. You looked darling on that day, and I'm sorry I left you on your own in the storm," Priest Matthew said with sad dust-brown eyes. "I do believe I haven't seen you since, for better or for worse. Nevertheless, I give you my humblest apology."

Priests often had the best souls, and members of the council second best. Fallyn understood why when she saw his warmth, even towards a Soulless. This was unheard of even from her parents. She smiled and nodded graciously, doing a slight bow with her head.

"Hmm," his smile faded slightly as if he realized something; perhaps who he was talking to? Priest Matthew then left abruptly with only a curt nod to the Graces as a goodbye. Fallyn was still in high hopes after his odd leaving, beaming the whole day even as she was given only water to drink in place of meals, and even when her legs ached as the minutes turned into hours, and even when she made the long and arduous hike up to Mt. Hope and all the other people-people who were much stronger than she-were gasping for air. 

The sun had set, and a great pyre was lit. The flames casted amber glows on the faces of the children who stood around it, facing the fire, their hands clasped. The two people holding Fallyn's hand were both doing it somewhat reluctantly. One was simply nervous, and her hand was rather clammy and her grip rather tight. The other was a girl who Fallyn had heard of-she was highly praised on the island-named Ellie. She was nice enough but anyone could tell she'd rather hold anyone else's hand in the world. 

"On this night, the rebirth of the year, the cusp between the end and the beginning...there is the future. Spirits beckon you, calling out for your soul's iridescence, as the Heralds come to judge you. Stand proud, for this night may be your very last in our presence, or the very first of a new year..."

Fallyn tried to glance into the night sky without moving her head, but could see only darkness-WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! A great flapping of wings startled her and many other children as, as if out of nowhere, two winged figures began descending from the center of the pyre. A loud gasp echoed from the crowd as the Heralds landed on the burning coals, their feet unburnt from the embers. 

"Evian, the Night Wing. Blaise, the Light Wing. We are the Herlads, the wings and eyes of the empire above," they chanted in an eerie harmony, making their way around the circle to inspect the children. Both held an odd piece of glass, it was geometrical and thick, and seemed to have a glowing wisp inside of it. when held in front of the holy ink, it glowed brighter or dimmer, and Fallyn stifled a gasp as she remembered what happened during her soul reading. "We peer into your very soul with a piece of our lord and lady's hearts, and our own crystal clear mind."

Finally, the one named Evian stopped in front of Fallyn. He held up the crystal, and there was no change for one, two, three seconds. The Herald grimaced suddenly, as if struck by a terrible headache, and the glass began violently shaking. The light inside writhed, splitting and merging and twisting as the glass vibrated in his grip. "Blaise-!"

With a loud crack, the glass shattered into dust, Evian crumbled into dust blown away by a strong helix of wind, and the two wisps of light shone blindingly bright then disappeared. the crowd started to panic, many backing away. A few whispered loudly, again, the screwup, the soulless child causes disaster. Fallyn bit her lip, trying not to cry. I've done it again, she thought miserably as Blaise flew over to her. 

"Interesting...," he mumbled, squinting as if to try and take in every detail of her face. Then he turned to the crowd, flying high so all could hear and see him. "Tonight, the King and Queen call for only one to be chosen. The very last one, in fact, as this ceremony will end hereafter."

As the whispering turned into shouts and wild, frantic conversation, Blaise swooped down to Fallyn, and looked at her reassuringly. "M-m-me?!" She asked in a small voice, incredulous but still hopeful. 

"Yes."