The Rising

by L F Seitz

  Twenty-Six.

  THE DAY BEFORE THE Rising was fairly warm for December, but I didn’t question it. I took it as a sign of good luck, and we needed all the luck we could get. Micah said he was still waiting for documented approval that I would be working with his team the night of the mission, since I am on probation. Given he is my guardian and is to be working, he doesn't believe they would separate us with limited security and medical staff left at the compound to watch me.

  Today was also the day of the Banquet, a Kenosha compound tradition for more than one hundred years now. Before a battle, or large mission, the Nephilim would come together to celebrate their people and dance away their troubles. And I had nothing to wear.

  Micah would be gone all day, first to a meeting with his team, Charlie 12, before tomorrow. After that, he was going to get fitted with his friends at a local men’s formal store. Micah had let me know this morning it was formal attire, so everyone would be wearing sparkly gowns and expensive suits. I’d be over there wearing a garbage bag.

  “You’re telling me this now?” He was not happy with me as I shrugged, swirling my coffee in my cup. “You’re lucky I had money on me for my suit.” Micah shook his head and yanked his wallet from his pants pocket.

  “Save your money; just tell them I’m sick with the flu,” I said, slouching my shoulders.

  Truth was, I didn’t want to go. I’d never been to a formal event, except for a homecoming in ninth grade. I was bullied for wearing dress pants and a floral shirt because that was what my foster mom had. Never went to one again after that, not even prom.

  “Your attendance is mandatory, Lamia, so don’t push it,” Micah growled as he held out the money, obviously irritated with me.

  “I don’t want your money,” I retorted.

  He glared at me before throwing the bills on the counter. We’d been bumping heads since this morning because I didn’t want to go and was giving every reason I could to persuade him to cover for me.

  “Call me about where you plan to go for your stuff, so I know, and if I don’t answer, leave a message. I’ll call you before the Banquet. I might not be able to pick you up, but someone will,” he said. He pulled on his jacket and opened the door to leave.

  “Wait, what?” I jumped up.

  He didn’t even stop as he moved into the hallway, the door closing behind him. “Someone will be here by six,” Micah called out.

  “What an asshole!” I stomped over to the couch and punched his pillow. He could be so self-centered sometimes. Did he not care if I showed up looking like an idiot and embarrassed him? Maybe he didn’t care – after all, he most likely wasn’t going to pick me up. We weren't going together, so ... I guess I’m on my own.

  After wandering around and procrastinating for three hours, I finally took a shower and got dressed. I caught the bus across town to the only place I could think of to do my hair: Flair. Dialing Micah’s number, I already knew it would go to voicemail. I don’t know why I expected him to talk to me. “It’s Lamia. I know you don’t care, but I’m on my way to the salon. Still don’t know where to get a dress. Guess I’ll wear a burlap sack. Bye.” It was bad enough I didn’t want to go, but for Micah to be so curt only made it worse. I was being forced to do something, and my “friend” didn’t want to be there with me.

  I made it to the salon and was instantly overwhelmed by the smells and atmosphere. Very girly and bubbly, it reminded me of Cindy, who’d told me about this place. When I got there it was nearly empty. The red-headed woman behind the counter smiled at me as I approached.

  “Oh, h-hello.” I said, tripping over myself.

  “Do you have an appointment?” She asked as she scanned a planner on the desk with names scribbled next to time slots. I shook my head sheepishly. “Would you like to make an appointment?”

  “Well, I’m going to a party tonight, and I’d like to get my hair and makeup done,” I said. She scanned the planner again as elevator music played in the background. “I didn’t know you needed an appointment.”

  The woman viewed her computer screen and began typing while I waited. I felt more awkward by the second. I wasn’t the type to come to a salon, let alone know what to actually say or do in here. It was like I was in foreign territory.

  “Oh, I don’t think we’ll be able to get you in today,” she said, shaking her head. It was already one in the afternoon; how was I supposed to find somewhere else to go before six? I cringed at the thought of doing it myself- I got upset with my hair by just putting it into a ponytail. It never wanted to look how I wanted it to.

  “I’ll take her, Susan. She needs an updo and makeup?” A large woman said as she came from around the corner, wearing bright floral patterns and pink lipstick.

  “That’s nice of you, Lillian. I hope your grandkids don’t mind,” said red-headed Susan. I assumed the stylist, Lillian, had been planning on leaving soon.

  “They’ll be fine. They’re with their papa.” She brushed Susan’s comment off and motioned for me to follow her. “Sit down over here, sweetheart, and tell me what this thing you’re going to is.” She reminded me a lot of Cindy. Super talkative and rambunctious. The only problem was figuring out a suitable lie for this simple conversation that sounded plausible. If I had to lie to everyone, I wanted it to be a semi-truth.

  I dove into the explanation of how my guy friend had a very rich and stuck-up family. They invited me to come to a huge party, and I wanted to look nice for it.

  “That sounds fun. So, tell me what you want for your hair. It’s short, so there isn’t much we can do,” she said as she started to play with it.

  I honestly didn’t know the first thing about updos, so I shrugged. “Whatever you think is best.”

  She turned my head to the left then right, and then she raked it back a little with her fingers before smiling. “I have the perfect idea,” she said, smiling as she raised her eyebrows. “Something classy, not too flashy? You seem like the type of girl who keeps to herself.” I was surprised but nodded. She turned on her flatiron and pulled out all of her supplies from a nearby drawer. “What's this guy friend look like?” she asked.

  I snorted as I thought about Micah and his angelic looks. How do I put it into a simple sentence? “Tall, muscular, broad-shouldered, flowing hair, and beautiful blue eyes.” The words came gushing out, and I couldn’t stop them – as well as the butterflies he gave me.

  “Oh, child! He sounds like a modern-day Fabio.” Her southern accent peeked through. “Sounds like more than just a friend, too.”

  As much as that would be a dream come true, Micah would never feel that way for me. Regardless of what Hamon and Leo said. We were friends, and I only just achieved that with him. He trusted me now, and I didn’t want to ruin that. Thinking about something so miniscule as a crush on the eve of battle felt selfish. I should be preparing myself for what was no doubt going to be a massacre. Which side would suffer the most loss was still up for debate.

  “As much as I’d like that, we’re just friends.”

  Lillian and I talked about the party and what I was going to wear, which was still undecided at the moment. She talked about a bridal shop a couple blocks away, but the sizes in there were smaller. There was no chance in hell I was going to squeeze into some small, sparkly death trap just to make myself feel like shit because nothing fits. When she was done with my hair, she turned me around to face the mirror, and I was speechless. The reflection staring at me had loose curls pulled back and pinned, with pieces shaping my face. I felt like a princess.

  “You like it?” She added a little bit of sparkling spray, turning my ebony hair into a midnight sky. I never imagined looking like this. A change of hairstyle sounded so simple, but at the same time, it made me look at myself in another light. A pretty light. I wasn’t one for working too hard when it came to my appearance. In all honestly, I tried to disregard it completely. I avoided the mirror sometimes, and when I needed it, I just focused on the task rather than my opinions about
what I saw staring back at me. If I looked too long at myself, it usually led to negative thoughts and a foul mood. I wasn’t what society thought to be good-looking – or normal, even. It was evident through my schooling, when my peers felt the need to point it out. I wasn’t proportionate: my breasts too small and my butt too big. My thighs too large. My face too round. I’d come to terms with my body and that it was the only one I had. I loved me and the miraculous things my body could do to keep me alive, but I was still insecure about a lot of things, so I didn’t focus on those aspects.

  “I love it,” I said, smiling at her in the mirror. Finding someone attractive makes seeing yourself hard because it forces you to focus on your appearance, to try to see what they see, and if they could possibly like what they saw. I assumed Micah could see the things I wanted to change, too.

  “I’m going to go a little more natural with your makeup, give you some definition and a brown smoky eye.”

  I sat patiently while she went to work. She knew my style better than I did, and I was excited for what I would find when she was done. She used countless brushes and products, which were scary at first, but Lillian distracted me by making me laugh. The last thing she did was fill in my lips with a stain. I turned to the mirror and didn’t recognize who stared back. Her round face was defined and flawless, her eyes bright and beaming ... and her lips. Full and beautiful with the mesmerizing deep red. She was beautiful, and it was difficult to understand that it was me I saw.

  “I don’t know how to begin to thank you,” I said, trying not to tear up.

  “Oh, honey, it was no problem. I enjoyed it.” She gave me a quick hug. “Let me give you some advice though, honey. Go to this party and confess your feelings. Just be honest. You said you haven’t known him long, but sugar, life is too short to wait. If he doesn’t see you the same, don’t let it bring you down. You are a beautiful young woman. Happiness is where you choose to find it.” She patted my shoulder, and I felt myself getting emotional from her words. I gave her another hug before she rang me up, and I snuck her a fifty-dollar tip.

  “Thank you for everything,” I repeated as I walked out.

  As I stepped on the bus to go back home, I saw on my phone it was already four in the afternoon. There was no time for running around looking for a dress; I’d just have to find one at home. I thought about that purple dress I’d bought to snag Orias in. It wasn’t really formal attire, but it’s the only dress I owned that would fit. I might have a maxi dress in the bottom of my closet that might work. I guess I was going to embarrass Micah after all. I didn’t mind: with the way he treated me today, he deserved it.

  I stopped suddenly in the hallway because in front of my door was a large white box with a black bow on top. I pulled out my blade hidden under my sweater as I surveyed the hall, checking for anything out of the ordinary. The card on top had my name written across it. I tapped the box with my foot and waited. When nothing happened, I picked it up and brought it inside. Pulling the card from under the bow, I opened and read the note:

  From the one who knows you best.

  I glanced from the note to the box a few times and wondered who would leave me such a vague note anonymously. Micah was the only one who came to mind, but I didn’t think he’d just leave a package outside my door. Besides, he had a key to my apartment. I popped open the box to find pink tissue paper that smelled of expensive perfume. I gingerly pulled the tissue away and nearly stopped breathing at what was inside.

  Red sparkle.

  I pulled the fabric from the box and unfurled it: an a-line dress with red satin on the bottom, covered by long red chiffon. It was littered with lace flowers, which clustered at the waist and went scarce toward the bottom. The top was a v-neckline with cap sleeves and red beaded lace sewn on mesh, to make the edges of the neck and armholes look invisible. To give the appearance of the flowers floating on my skin.

  It was beyond anything I could have ever imagined wearing in my life. There were shoes in the box, too: low heels made with straps of red satin. There is only one person who could know all this about me, and he had to have snuck into my things and checked the sizes of my clothing and shoes. He was literally my guardian angel.

  I put everything on as quickly as I could without messing up my hair or ripping the dress. When I looked into the mirror, I nearly wept. I could see myself there, beneath all the superficial layers, but seeing it all together made me look older. Made me feel like I was someone I could look up to, someone responsible. I thought changing my life and pushing myself past my limits was going to break me – kill me, even – but here I stood.

  My phone buzzed with an unknown number on my screen. “Hello?”

  “Is this Lamia?” The voice was familiar, but it wasn’t Micah, so I remained cautious.

  “Who’s this?”

  “Sorry, this is Leo. I’m calling because I came to pick you up.”

  The climax of this all was dismal. I realized I’d held out a little hope Micah would end up being the one to come get me. To see me like this first. Unfortunately, I would have to go to this dreaded event with someone I barely knew. I scanned myself in the mirror once more.

  “Where’s Micah?” I asked.

  “Micah got caught up. Hamon ripped his pants, so they had to go get another pair. I’m here when you’re ready.”

  “I’ll be right down,” I said and ended the call. Locking eyes with myself in the mirror, I said aloud, “You don’t have to be fearless to be brave; you just have to be brave enough to see past the fear.” I gave myself a small smile. Whatever happened tonight, I needed to remain true to myself. If I wanted to dance, I’d dance. If I wanted to leave, I’d leave. This is my night, too.

  I took my time on the stairs, making sure not to catch my dress on anything as I lifted the hem away from my shoes. Once outside, the air cooled my tacky skin, and my mind cleared. Leo stood in front of an SUV texting on his phone as I approached. I took a moment to appreciate how handsome he looked in his fitted navy blue suit, with white shirt and blue tie. His hair was combed to the side and his face freshly shaven. Something about men in suits made women feel like girls, and taken back to a time when true gentlemen reigned. When Leo finally noticed me, his face went slack. He regarded me fully several times as I approached.

  “You look unbelievable, Lamia,” he said, his smile gleaming. I blushed furiously.

  “This old thing,” I said playfully. “You look very handsome, Leo.”

  We climbed into the SUV. “Buckle up, sweetheart,” he said. Leo plugged his phone into the car and turned on some music: techno with a heavy beat.

  “Where did you get the dress?”

  “I think Micah sent it to my door,” I said.

  “He was with us all day. I wonder when he found time to do that, sneaky devil.”

  Leo shifted the SUV into drive, and we made our way toward the compound. I was so anxious it made me ill. There were so many people at the meet and greet, and there would be just as many there tonight. I didn't want to go this morning, but now, after seeing Leo, I was actually a little excited. Though, I hoped Micah didn’t expect me to socialize with a bunch of strangers, especially if I wasn’t even sure I’d be fighting with them tomorrow. I hadn’t had much training, but I was put on probation. Micah explained that a normal probationary Nephilim at my age would be able to attend a battle as long as the team they shadowed approved. My circumstances were different, so the Counsel needed to approve it also.

  “You’re going to dance with me first, right? Although, it might make Micah jealous,” he said, smiling slyly.

  “Nothing I do could make Micah jealous.” I fidgeted with my clutch on my lap.

  “I guess we can push the limits tonight then.” Leo winked at me, and I felt so warm I could have melted off my makeup. Typical Casanova.

  Twenty-Seven.

  WE PULLED THROUGH THE main gates but went past the apartments to my right, past the assembly building on the left, and toward the far back where the line
of pine trees stood. Once we were beyond them, the large factory-like building I noticed the first time I was here came into view. It was longer than a football field and stood at least three stories high. I wonder what this building was used for before it belonged to the compound. As we parked, I spotted a few young girls walking toward the door wearing skimpy dresses like the one I wore when interrogating Orias. Only more sparkles and fluff.

  “I’m overdressed compared to those girls,” I said, motioning to them with my chin. Leo followed my gaze and spotted them just as they stepped inside.

  “That’s just it: those are girls,” he said as he stepped out and shut the door. He opened my door for me, holding his hand out to assist me.

  “Guess I’m the one chick who didn’t get the sexy memo,” I giggled nervously. Deep down, I was stressed. It’s not that I didn’t feel beautiful; I just didn’t want to stick out by wearing some long dress when I was really supposed to wear something more revealing.

  “Don’t confuse girls with women. Girls dress for men while women dress for themselves,” Leo said.

  I gawked at him for a long moment before I howled with laughter, grateful for this new person in my life. “You know just what to say.”

  “It’s my talent, really.” Leo held out his arm like a gentleman, and I wrapped my arm around his as we walked to the door.

  The doors were guarded by two heavily armed men, putting into perspective how close tomorrow’s danger really was. I shook away the dark thoughts and tried to focus on tonight, on celebrating my new life, or at least the new people in it.

  The outside may have looked like a factory, but the inside was absolutely stunning. Tables formed a ring around the whole inside, covered with extravagant gold center pieces, black table clothes and sparkling glass dinnerware. There was hardwood in the center for dancing, lit by gigantic crystal chandeliers. They filled the room with a golden glow, and soft orchestrated music played. It was far beyond anything I’d imagined it would be. Leo seemed to know where he was going as he walked me all the way to the other end of the room, toward a table at the farthest-right corner. He pulled out my chair for me, and I sat with my back closest to the wall. This was by far the best spot in the building: I could see everything and felt secure with my back against something solid.