The Selection + SGE

Agatha

As I got home, I knew something was very wrong. My mother wasn't practicing her music like usual, but was instead sitting at the table where I left her.

"Agatha, please sit down."

I heard the tapping of my clumps against the cold floor. The silence was eerie. What am I talking about. Silence is fine for a never like me. I pulled out my chair and sat down. I shivered under her intense stare and tried - and failed - to fix my posture. I winced.

"I want you to sign up for the selection. It is a wonderful opportunity for us and as you have pointed out, you feel they will reject your application anyway and so it doesn't matter. But, if you do sign up, I will pay for art school."

My mouth opened slightly. My mom was willing to pay for me to go through formal training. Even when I didn't get chosen, in would still get to reap the benefits. No Tedros and go to an art school, only...

"Mom, no, you can't afford it. If it means so much, I'll sign up. Just don't expect a miracle."

My gaze flittered over to the sign up sheet. What could be the harm? I'm not going to get picked.

Name. Agatha

Caste. Five

Age. 18

Languages. English. Troll.

Talents. Hearing wishes

Yes, I can hear wishes. I don't remember when it started, but when i told my mom she said 'i see' and then didn't explain herself. I did a bit of research at the library. It means I'm pure - pure evil. At least with that on the sheet they can just throw it away.

"I'll hand it in tomorrow with Sophie."

***The next day***

The backs of my shoes rubbed against my heels. I had had a restless night and I regretted agreeing to this stupid arrangement.

You're doing this for mom.

"Look how many people there are!" Sophie said in awe. Standing in line, we could see a number of girls we knew waiting to go inside. The trail was nearly four people wide and wrapped halfway around the block. It seemed as though all the ever girls of Gavaldon had turned up at the chance of becoming Prince Tedros' wife. Well, all of them and one never girl.

You could see the caste divides here clear as day. The twos in their denim they wore to feel part of the lower case, to the fours who had come straight from work with dust on their overalls, to the sevens and eights wearing their best clothes. Though it was uncommon for an ever to be part of the lower castes, it wasn't impossible.

I heard Sophie scoff and she pointed in the direction of Brenna, a two, and daughter of the mayor, "My doesn't she look like she's getting dressed for a costume party." Brenna's hair was in a fancy updo and her dress looked imported from New Asia. The gold set off her usually dull eyes that were hidden between the mountains of make up she had plastered on. If she was going for rich two, she had nailed it. I laughed a little at the comment but regretted it as soon as Brenna heard me. She stomped forward and I blushed.

I had, after much persuasion from Sophie, worn one of my tops I swapped for a posy of wild daisies that I gotten from the meadow. Sophie then bribed me with cookies into her black jeans that she got for her birthday.

I wasn't a patch on Sophie though. Her long tresses were shinier than usual and her pink gown made her look positively regal. Princess-like. So I stood there waiting to give in my application for the selection, supporting my best friend on her journey to her true love.

Sophie and I walked in together. Palace guards stood at the entrance to the local province office. The draft was coming up. It had changed to voluntary instead of mandatory yet some eights were still forced to join up. No one was fighting for them. Who could stop the king and the prince of their power trip? Another reason why I wasn't convinced Sophie and Tedros would be compatible. She is kind and he..... looks like a stiff robot reciting lines (but if you ask Sophie a handsome robot.)

There was a camera. A camera? Oh no! They were taking pictures of us. After we handed our form in there would be a picture to accompany it. I'm guessing that made sense. They needed our information and picture for the report I supposed.

But Sophie, of course, took it all in stride. "Flah-se-dah," she whispered under her breath flinging her hair to the side in an effortless move, "Where do you want me darlings?"

"Just over there miss-" the photographer took a look over her form, " miss Sophie."

She stood by the white wall and posed. The look on her face was both angelic and yet she had a going of determination in her eye. She looked the part, she practically was the part.

"There, all done. Good luck miss Sophie."

Sophie bounded over towards me and gave me a hug. "Oh Aggie, they took my picture. It was even better than expected!"

"Next," the man shouted and I shuffled in my clumps to the camera. He held out his hand and I gave him my form. "Well Agatha, this won't take long. Just a quick pictu-"

He looked up at me and had a puzzled expression on his face. That confusion was replaced with fear. He knew i was a never. He may not even take my picture. But that would be a waste of a journey and I had to go through with it. As confidently as possible I stood by the wall, looked at the camera and grinned. The expression felt uncomfortable on my face, like i had forgotten how. Or maybe i had never learned. A never is destined for an evil paradise to face all alone. They weren't happy and they didn't masquerade as evers. I was just about to go but he said,

"Miss Agatha. Please close your eyes and stop smiling."

I did it immediately. Anything to shorten this, what would be a, very traumatic experience. Dressing up and parading around like an ever. Bye integrity.

"Please miss, think of something that makes you happy." My mind was filled with sunsets by the lake with Sophie, dinners with my mother, visiting the bookshop with Sophie, exploring the graveyard with Reaper, Sophie dying my hair, Sophie, Sophie, Sophie...

I felt a flash go off.

"Wonderful."

I took in a deep breath. I was now a contender for the selection.