Blood Awakens

by Jessaca Willis

  “Only if you want to stay comfortable and conscious,” she stated matter-of-factly. “You can keep trying to wander farther like you did today, but since you still don’t have control of your power, any time you leave the vicinity of USTOTA, your ability will return. And considering how many people live here, as you experienced earlier, the force of it will knock you out instantaneously.”

  Santiago flushed at the mention of his earlier misfortune. Up until today, he’d spent most of his time at Hope inside the confines of the house where Graciela had been resting. No one had bothered to mention to him that were he to leave the vicinity that he’d find himself outside of the influence of an invisible power keeping him empathic ability at bay and therefore maintaining his ability to stay conscious.

  “Then charm it away again!” he demanded for the third time that morning.

  And she said no for the third time too. “I already told you. My job is not to babysit yours or anyone’s abilities. My job is to train the people here to be able to protect themselves. Allora, my job is to encourage you to train to be able to learn to control your power.”

  If he wasn’t careful, he would become entranced by her rapid hand gestures. Especially the more impatient she became, the more dizzying it was to watch. “And how am I supposed to learn to control it? You just said the USTOTA does that for me, but only as far as the boundary goes.” Now he was just arguing for the sake of arguing, because it was never his intent to learn to live with his affliction.

  “Now that your sister is well, you should start training.”

  He scoffed. With a flick of his wrist, Santiago summoned a knife in hand, twirling it for show. “I don’t need it. I already know how to fight.”

  “I meant training your ability. Everyone learns how to control theirs differently. Why not talk to Carson? He’s just like you—”

  Santiago guffawed even harder, interrupting her only briefly enough to receive a glare in warning.

  “Your other option,” she continued pointedly, “is to follow directions and stay here. Either is fine by me.”

  It was the first time in this argument that Mara’s cool was finally waning. He knew it would happen, had honestly expected it sooner. But Santiago couldn’t figure out why. In all the months that he had dreamed of this woman, never once did he consider that the two of them would clash. It was true that Mara was fearless, stubborn, and feisty. She demanded respect, and in turn, it was given. It was one of the many reasons he had become attracted to her. It’s just that he had hoped for a warmer, smoother welcoming.

  Since their arrival to Hope almost two weeks back, he estimated that the two of them had argued close to fifty times, which was impressive since he had seen her only on a handful of occasions. It was like anything he did or said set Mara off. He wondered why he had convinced himself to come all this way just to be verbally accosted, but at the same time, he couldn’t give up. The connection he felt for months prior had been too real.

  Now all he had to do was get her to see it too, right after he got rid of the grating anger percolating under his skin.

  “Psh, yeah right. Like he’d help me anyway. The guy obviously hates me.” Santiago’s agitated fingers busied themselves with the fly-aways of his fauxhawk. Since coming to Hope, thankfully he’d been able to shower, shave, and re-sculpt the masterpiece that was his hair. It took extreme effort to maintain a crafted hairdo. And it wasn’t all just for his benefit. He had always hoped Mara might admire it too—if not secretly. So of course, even amid an argument, he wanted it to be pristine.

  “Oh please, he’s harmless. Maybe he just doesn’t like people who spend an obscene amount of time fidgeting with their ridiculous hair when there are bigger problems in the world.”

  His hand fell down to his side. “Hey! My hair’s not ridiculous!” Before he could continue, Mara stormed off with a flick of her wrist. “Oh fine! Just walk away then!”

  Fists clenched at his sides, he growled through his frustration.

  Why couldn’t they just have one conversation that didn’t end with one of them screaming?

  “I see you’ve spoken with Mara,” Sean said, startling him from behind. “About the USTOTA tower.”

  “Yeah,” Santiago groaned.

  “We would’ve brought it up sooner, but with Graciela’s condition, I figured you would be staying in the room with her anyway. Now that she is up and moving around, well, better you know now before something…unfortunate were to happen.”

  Santiago huffed a breath to release any remaining frustrations he held onto. “Too late for that.”

  Sean examined him for a moment. “Don’t take it personally. It takes her a long time to warm up to anyone. I think it’s a test, like she’s trying to determine who is worthy of her trust. The longer the test goes, the better.”

  “Better? How would that be better?”

  A kindhearted laugh burst from Sean’s belly. “Because it means she sees your potential. Mara…” The last syllable lingered in the air, the universal sign of intentional wordsmithing. He finally settled on, “is a guarded person. When we first met, she was determined to hate me, even though she came to me for safety.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, she was—is—tirelessly skeptical of people. Probably ever since…” He trailed off.

  It was too enticing to pass on. Santiago inched closer, something in his posture awakening. “Ever since what?”

  “Mara was a student at Berkeley, the most prestigious law school in the Pacific Union. Maybe this news didn’t reach Guatemala, but toward the end of things, Berkeley was targeted by the Proselytes of Niha. I don’t know how much you know about them.”

  “None.” Santiago huffed, slightly dejected. It felt like he knew so little about anything when it came to the Awakened or the Awakening, which was where he guessed this was going. But not wanting to appear too ignorant, he added suddenly, “Well, a little. I know it’s a religion.”

  Sean swiveled his head and not in the up and down motion. “Sort of, yeah. They’re the people who believe in the Nihanism religion anyway.” Sean let his gaze drift while he began to rub the back of his neck absentmindedly. He was mulling something over, but what Santiago wasn’t sure. “Okay, here’s my mini-lesson on the followers of Nihanism. All of the Proselytes of Niha believe that the world was created by Gods that would one day test mankind to prove they deserved a place in a kind of utopian ascendance. Most of them believe that place is Paníhava.”

  Santiago’s eyes widened at the sudden mention of the planet that everyone wanted to forget. There was no time to ask questions though, as Sean was lost in his teaching moment.

  “With the Awakening though, the followers became fractured, splitting into two groups. The general belief between both sides is that the Awakened are descendants from Gods, that is, that we’re demi-Gods sent to Earth to test those who aren’t Awakened—”

  “I’m no God,” Santiago said. The thought of people even ascribing such pureness to him or any other person left him feeling vile. “Besides, I’ve been here my whole life. Just like you I’m guessing, and Mara, and everyone else who became one of the cursed.”

  Sean twitched. Slightly, but Santiago noticed. He hadn’t liked the word Santiago had used to describe them: cursed. Even if that’s what they were.

  But the Hope leader didn’t pry. “I think most of them either think we have been taken over by demi-Gods or that our human parents never told us, and therefore we have no knowledge of our demi-God status.”

  Santiago rolled his eyes. He couldn’t help it. It all sounded so ridiculous, like people were grasping at reason that wasn’t there. After all, he would know. He’d searched for the answer to why since the day it happened.

  “Anyway,” Sean continued, “the concept of where we came from, they all seem to agree on. But there are two distinct beliefs between the groups. The first—and more pleasant for us—is that whenever an Unawakened is killed by an Awakened, the dead person earns themselves a pla
ce in Paníhava.”

  Impatience beckoned. Santiago was beginning to wonder why Sean was telling him any of this. “Okay?”

  With a forced clearing of his throat, Sean finished. “The second group believes that it is their duty to kill the Awakened. They believe that this is the test they’ve been waiting for. That, to find peace, they have to prove they’re worthy by killing a demi-God. They believe once all the Awakened are dead, Earth will become their long-sought-out utopia, that it will become Paníhava.” Sean allowed a pause, as Santiago mulled it over. “This is all to say that the Proselytes of Niha led an attack on Berkeley and that Mara was there when it happened. She saw the whole place go down.”

  A sudden weight came over him, like he’d just been buried in a mound of blankets, but rather the usual warmth blankets could be expected to bring, they filled him with a bone-deep chill.

  “How did it go down?” Santiago quoted and swallowed hard. “What happened?”

  Sean looked him dead in the eyes as he said, “Fire. They burned the buildings while the Awakened students were still inside. A lot of the Proselytes of Niha believe it’s the only way to cleanse the Awakened.”

  A silence settled over the both of them. On some level, Santiago believed that death by fire was a cleansing act, that it prepared oneself for whatever afterlife awaited. But, even if he wanted more than anything to be Unawakened, to be untainted, he could never imagine being burned alive. Soul cleansing or not. He would die an abomination before he let anyone set fire to his body.

  “Mara was there when the school went up in flames.” Sean spoke softly now. “I’ll let her tell you the details in her own time, but the end of the story is that she made it out alive. Wound up saving around twenty people or so in the process, Awakened and Unawakened. Someone in her group was married to one of the soldiers who resided here, and so, with his directions and by Mara’s lead, she brought them all here.

  “It wasn’t sunshine and rainbows though. She was skeptical of me and my intentions as a blood guide. My kind of Awakened don’t necessarily have the best reputation, as you’re probably aware.”

  That was becoming better understood to Santiago by the day. Of all the terrible encounters he and his sister had on the road, two of three had involved blood guides directly, and the third appeared to be the aftermath of a visit from them.

  “Back then, Mara threatened me, spied on me, and insisted that she be a part of every decision since her people made up a high percentage of our population. You see, we only had a hundred or so people before she arrived.

  “Honestly, I didn’t mind though. I was fairly new to being a leader, and there was a lot I needed to learn, a lot that needed to be done.” Sean sighed, and then uttered more to himself than to Santiago, “There still is.”

  “So what happened? How’d you gain her trust?”

  Sean belted a singular laugh. “It took us almost four months of working together every day, from sunrise to sunset, before she started letting her guard down around me. During the fifth month,” A melancholic smile stretched thick across his face, “she told me about her family, and I knew then that we had finally reached some level of partnership.”

  All Santiago could do was nod solemnly. Couldn’t he just skip her trial? After all, he already knew so much about her. From his perspective, he’d already spent the past couple months getting to know her.

  “Don’t tell her I said this,” Sean leaned in close, his words a guarded trail of air, “but I think she’s afraid of getting hurt. That’s why her walls are so thick. But believe me, once you pass her test, you’ll never have a more loyal friend.”

  The two men stood in silence, with more thoughts soaring about than Santiago could process. He knew the story was meant to offer him some peace of mind, but it hadn’t helped much. If Mara was the type of person that needed to use someone as a verbal punching bag as a test, then he was afraid they’d never grow close considering how he struggled to hold his tongue while being berated.

  But Sean was good-intentioned, so Santiago said what he thought was normal in these situations. “Thanks, Sean. I just…I wish the test was over already.”

  Sean gave a doleful smile. “Just be patient with her, as best as you can. And try not to let her get under your skin.”

  Del dicho al hecho hay un buen trecho. With no immediate solution to his dilemma, he chose to change the subject.

  Santiago pointed at the tower—an obelisk really—standing in front of them. “So, what is this thing anyway?” Even if Mara had tried explaining it earlier, he hadn’t been in the right head space to listen.

  The mysterious object gleamed in the afternoon sun, the black obsidian rock collecting fragmented light and turning it into thousands of tiny, sparkling rainbows. It was as thick as either of their torsos and stretched seven or more meters into the sky. An electric gush of magic constantly surged from its surface.

  “USTOTA? In my opinion, it’s one of the best inventions that’s come out of the Awakening yet. It’s an acronym: Stabilization Tower of the Awakened. She transmits signals that render Awakened abilities useless. Within her boundary, no one can access their power.”

  “Hang on, what’s the U stand for?”

  Sean swiveled his head. “Nothing as far as I know, except that the person who names all these things is obsessed with the letter U.”

  Santiago couldn’t tell if he was joking or if that was the honest truth. He decided against probing further though. “Is it true that I have to stay within this thing’s radius at all times?”

  “What? No, not at all. Mara didn’t give you your insert?”

  “What insert?”

  Sean let out an exasperated sigh. “The one that blocks your abilities and allows you to move around the camp freely. She didn’t explain any of that?”

  Santiago threw him a cross look. “No.”

  “What a brat.” Sean huffed a laugh, but Santiago didn’t find it funny. “Here, let me show you.”

  The two of them approached the obsidian tower. It was so thin for its height that it was a miracle the thing didn’t topple over. The closer they got, the more Santiago could feel a warmth radiating from it like an electrical surge. Every hair on his arms stood on end in response.

  Sean lead him to the west side of the pole and popped open a near-invisible panel along the backside. Inside were five columns, each a long list of slots, some empty and some full, with small pins that held the same hue as the obsidian rod.

  “Here, this little thing will disable your Awakened ability when you’re outside of USTOTA’s range. Most people wear it like an earring. The only problem is that they need to be charged a couple times a day. We’ve found that if they are away from the tower—this big, black beauty here—for too long, they lose their power and then you regain yours. That would be problematic in your case.” He gave a hearty pat to Santiago’s back.

  Ignoring the knowing look Sean was sending him, Santiago chose to inspect the foreign object, though with some reservations. Just one more Awakened anomaly that he distrusted. But if it made him lose the ability to feel his powers, then maybe it was worth trying.

  Santiago held the small piece of stone in his hand, hardly the size of a pea. “So it’s like a ‘Hey, look at me, everybody. I can’t control myself’ earring.” There was no dampening the thick notes of cynicism in his tone.

  With warmth, Sean said, “I guess if you look at it that way, but you’re not the only person who has one. I issued you insert number one hundred and thirty-six, so at least one hundred and thirty-five other people have them as well. And really you can put it anywhere you’d like. I usually suggest the ear because it’s a place on the body that doesn’t get bothered too much but is also easily accessible in case you need to remove it suddenly. It’s also a way for everyone to know you’re working on learning about your ability, that way they can offer you support if needed. But whatever you feel most comfortable with is fine.”

  He brought the earring back into view,
a blackish dot that would soon be a physical token of his difference. “How did I get lucky enough to get the one hundred and thirty-sixth one? Aren’t there like seven hundred people here?”

  Sean grinned like a proud grandfather watching his grandson complete a puzzle for the first time. “Yes, but not everyone is as lucky as you are to be issued one. They’re reserved for a very select group.”

  It couldn’t be that select if one hundred and thirty-five of them had already been given out, but Santiago didn’t say that. “Who?”

  “All the leaders have one so that they can come in and out of the jail uninhibited. Then there’s people like you, people who need extra help curbing their powers. Each new empath, blood guide, dream walker, anura, cubozoa, and listener are given one when they first arrive.”

  With a begrudging shrug, Santiago brought the earring to his ear.

  “Wait a sec!” Rather forcefully, Santiago felt Sean’s dry hands tug on his own. “Sorry, I should’ve been more clear. You can’t wear it here.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because the tower and the insert cancel each other out. If you wear it inside of the boundary you pass out.” Sean paused, seeming to wait for questions, but when none came, he elaborated. “Think of it as a neutralizer, or like when you subtract a negative number. All of a sudden you are actually adding the numbers. The earring works as a personal stabilizer while you are outside of the tower’s radius. If you wear it when you’re near her though, neither will work, and you’ll have access to your power again. That’s why we mark the border, so everyone knows when to put their insert in or when to take it out.”

  Santiago glanced behind them and could vaguely discern the fading yellow paint on the ground that seemed to encircle the whole building, as well as a few others.

  “Just remember your number. Never, under any circumstances, take someone else’s.”

  “Why not?”