Chosen

Chapter 5

What? My mind refuses to accept what I just heard.

It looks like my father refuses to accept it, too. Before Norman can sit down, Crane speaks "What?" he asks with gritty politeness, his glare murderous.

Norman quails under my father's glower. I can't take my eyes off the front tables. I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, and tingles all down my arms. It feels like I'm somehow outside of my own skin. There is no way this is happening for real. I must be dreaming.

Crane's eyes sweep over the shocked faces. Arranging his face back into a barely controlled mask, he spits through his teeth, "I'm afraid you're mistaken, Norman. Surely you meant somebody else?"

Here it is. Whatever daydream I must be having is about to come crashing back to reality. Norman will take it back and choose Celia, and I'll be right back where I started. The thought nearly crushes me with unexpected disappointment.

To my surprise, Norman suddenly stands up straighter and looks directly in my father's eye. "I'm not mistaken. I've chosen Elia. I believe that means it's time my new apprentice to come forward."

Crane struggles to contain his obvious rage. "We will speak later." He sits down abruptly and gestures to me. "Well, daughter, you know the protocol." I realize that he means for me to come up and shake Norman's hand. Does that mean he's accepting this? It's not like him to allow something to happen beyond his control. Especially of this magnitude. He exercises power in all things. This is beyond surreal.

Without remembering getting up, I'm suddenly in front of Norman. This is it. If I shake hands with Norman, then this is really happening. Part of me almost feels like I'll reach out and grab onto nothing.

I wipe my clammy fingers on my pants before extending my hand out over the table. Norman stares intently at me and slightly inclines his head, as if trying to tell me he knows what he's doing. He grips my hand with surprising strength, and squeezes my hand quickly with both his own before releasing it. His palm felt dry and weathered. His fingers shake a little as he trades my trainee badge for the apprentice one. Turning back towards the people in my year, I see the all shocked expressions that must mirror my own. Celia's face is wet with angry tears in the back row. I scurry back to my seat quickly and quietly as possible, ignoring Jay's questioning face.

After that, the remaining masters manage to get through their lines, but nobody is really paying attention anymore. It's not until it's my father's turn that I realize...someone has to take my place. Someone in this room is going to be the next chief of the community. Not just anybody either. There's only one person left who hasn't been chosen.

"For the next chief of the community, I, Chief Crane, have chosen Celia."

Several people gasp, probably thinking he would have overruled Norman's choice and called my name anyway. Jay squeezes my shoulder, but it barely registers. I turn my head to look at Celia, who quickly wipes the traces of tears off her face before standing. Shock, nervousness, and some other emotion I don't quite catch flit across her face as she stands and makes her way forward. The room holds its collective breath while she shakes Crane's hand. He unpins her trainee badge with deft fingers and replaces it with a special apprentice pin, one unique for the chief's apprentice. My grandmother showed it to me once. While our badges are simple metal bars, the chief's apprentice badge is a gold circle. She said it used to have a design on it, but years of use wore it away.

After a beat, Celia returns to her seat, looking almost as dazed as I feel. For a moment, everyone sits in silence. Nobody knows what to do. It's true that in the past there have been a few choosing upsets, but that was usually when there was a position that nobody wanted, and two people were stuck vying for the same position. Never something like this.

Crane gets to his feet and dismisses everyone with a flick of his wrist, and everyone files out as fast as their legs will carry them. I stay glued to my chair, with Jay next to me for support. Soon, only Crane, Norman, Celia, Jay, and I are left in the room.

"You're dismissed, Jay," Crane says harshly. Jay startles, then gives me a quick hug and sympathetic look before reluctantly trudging out. I feel exposed when he leaves, like my one shield has been taken away.

As soon as the door closes behind Jay, Crane rounds on me. "What is this about?" He screams at me. I cringe away, trying to make myself smaller.

"Now wait a minute, she knew nothing about my choice, Crane," Norman interjects.

Without warning, Crane turns and backhands Norman across the face. He falls back towards the tables and crashes into them, completely collapsing one of them in the process.

"Norman!" I shriek as the violence cuts through my numbness, and rush over to where he sits between the jagged edges of the tabletop, blood trickling from a cut on the side of his head. "Father, how could you?" Stare at Crane, shocked. His gaze shows no remorse, only a hard, calculating coldness.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Norman murmurs, trying to push me back into a standing position. I ignore it and put my sleeve against the cut to stop the bleeding. Crane studies my behavior, like he wonders how I could actually care about someone else. Celia is frozen in place, hand gripping the sides of her chair, knuckles white. She's never seen how the chief behaves behind closed doors before.

Crane stalks toward me and I scramble to my feet to get away, putting both my hands up between us. He seems momentarily surprised by my fear before his eyes set in steely resolve. "You have a choice now, Elia. You can choose not to accept the position. If you reject it now, you can take your rightful place, and Celia will take your place with Norman."

Celia whimpers quietly at this. I just look at him stunned. Nobody has ever been allowed to reject the position that was chosen for them. It's an accepted fact that the Masters are much more qualified to make the decisions than a bunch of seventeen-year-olds.

"Well, Elia? What's your choice?" My father is impatient, tapping his foot with crossed arms. If he wasn't so terrifying it would strike me as funny, the way he's almost throwing a tantrum.

I force myself to try and think through the shock and the fog that I seem to have been in since Norman announced my name. My whole life, I've been brought up knowing that I will be the next chief of the community, the one everyone looks to for making decisions and keeping people alive and safe. I trained for it, I accepted that was how my life was going to be. Now that I've been handed a chance at something else, can I really pass it up? Can I doom Celia, who knows nothing about the pressures of living in the public eye, to a life she never thought she would lead? Do I force the entire community to go through this upheaval, suddenly having someone they know nothing about becoming their future leader? Can I step away from a position where I know I could a lot of good for the people for one that will allow me to fade into anonymity?

My mind swirls and I think back and forth at the possibilities and unknowns before me.

Norman makes his way shakily to his feet. "You do have a choice, Elia. What do you want?"

What do I want? When I think about it that way, it's impossible to know. I have no idea what I want since I've never allowed myself to truly want anything I know I can't have. What's the point to that? However, what I don't want suddenly seems crystal clear. Maybe that's enough for now.

"Speak up!" Crane explodes. "Put this ridiculous notion to rest. Accept your birthright, your intended purpose!"

I look straight into my father's eyes and shake my head. No. I won't.