"Yup. The village's pity party with legs. If you've been in these parts for a while, you'd know that. I'm usually the talk of the town. People love to remind new folks of how good they are for taking a peasant like me." I tried to smile but I was sure it wasn't convincing at all.
"How old are you?"
"Is that a question a stranger like yourself should be asking?" I countered.
He couldn't hide his irritation, so I gave in. "Seventeen."
"One more year until you’re of adult age."
"No," I countered. "In a few days I'll be eighteen. Nothing special about it."
"Eighteen is the prime age of adulthood. It's when the universe allows the seeds planted in your youth to blossom and let those petals spread and determine your future path in life."
"Wise words for a drunk man," I mumbled more to myself than to him.
"I'm not drunk," he hiccupped.
"As I am completely sober after drinking forty cups of strong alcohol," I complained. He raised an eyebrow at me in pure judgment.
"Forty?"
"Four. Zero. I can't get drunk to save my life. Sucks, really. Not like I don't have enough woes and sorrows in my life. Either way, I'm still alive and breathing so I should be grateful."
Shaking my head, I turned around once more.
"Sorry, but I have to get going. It's late and I have to help with hard labor work in the early hours of dawn. Please make sure you get home safely and don't let any of the older folks catch you staggering around. You'll get in trouble," I declared.
"Wait."
"What?" I looked over my shoulder.
"On your eighteenth birthday, if you want those seeds that are planted to blossom, you should go to the shrine on the top hillside of Himalayan. It's on the border of where the rich and the poor split. Ask the universe for what you want, and she'll answer."
"There's nothing on the hillside," I mumbled, trying to recall the very place he spoke of.
"There is," he contradicted. "I was shown there today during my tour of this place by your elders."
My eyes narrowed at him, but it could have been a new addition to the place. The village was trying to up their game for the off chance a group of fae travelers or rich folk came into our lands like tourists.
"Sure." All I wanted to do was go home at this point.
"Let me ask you one more question," he drawled.
"What?" My response was laced with warning; my patience was wearing thin.
"Do you hate this life enough to end it?" he questioned.
His question was enough to make me turn around to face him, the seriousness in my expression reflecting his own as we stared at one another.
His question felt like a judgement call - a test of whether I truly wanted to walk these lands and continue breathing each breath of oxygen we were graced with.
"If I hated life, we wouldn't be here speaking," I answered.
"You live in these lands of the poor. You walk miles to get the privacy of peeing in a standing box that isn't changed for weeks, if not months. You work from day to night, your very hands brushed with scars and rough patches, and you eat once a day unless someone feels pity for you. If you are truly an orphan that your village took upon to raise, why do you not hate this lifestyle? Your parents, whoever they may be, abandoned you in the heart of a ghetto, a place where you'll be stuck forever. There's no way of going up, no escape from the judgment. All you can do is work until your body stops functioning. Is that what you call life? Is that worth living?"
His words resonated with me in many ways. These were the questions that flooded my mind from when the sun set and the moon rose in the night sky.
I'd be lying if I said that thought never crossed my mind, for it had many times, especially in my younger teen years.
The times when the rich kids would skip classes to come and mock me in the fields, their slander and harsh insults bringing tears to my eyes and making me wish I could run away and hide from it all.
My upbringing wasn't something I’d asked for. Or maybe I had in whatever life I'd lived before, if I’d had one. I'm sure if I could remember why I chose to be born in these circumstances, it would have given me some validation of sorts.
Yet, we weren't given such a privilege. We weren't like the fae, who once they reached a certain age or met their destined mate recalled their purpose in coming down to these mortal lands, or to them, their universe.
Camilla’s parents had told us that through one of their tales. It was one of the many legends that surrounded their kind, and no matter how many times it was told through my remaining childhood and teenage youth, I'd held onto that grain of knowledge like it was forbidden fruit.
He made a valid point, and even in his drunken state, he held wisdom far greater than his age. I respected him, in an odd way, but I knew he wouldn't let me walk away without an answer.
I'd give him one.
"Though we are poor, we breathe life, just as the rich. Though we use our bare hands to plant seeds in the dirt fields, they grow into grain and food that feeds men, women, and children. Regardless of one's status, we are brought down to this world for a purpose. We may be human and unable to remember why we chose to be born on these very lands, unlike the fae, but our beating hearts are not our own and our destiny is not only ours to discover."
Staring right into his eyes, I carried on with my words, their intensity and power holding true to my heart's intentions.
"The universe laid down a path for all of us to walk on. Everyone was destined to be rich, who would do the labor us poor conduct on a daily basis. If we were all poor, who would build the skyscraper buildings and instill hopes and dreams of what can be achieved with our human capacity? Our race thrives on hope. We pray for salvation and that our dreams will come true before we take our last breaths. Not everyone gets to accomplish just that, and many times, it’s due to those very hands that can change their lifestyle in a minute."
I raised my hands and looked at them, a softened smile forming on my delicate lips.
"I will not lie to you. I've thought of ending my life plenty of times. Of entering the forest and hoping I never return to these very grounds where hope seems lost in the valleys of labor and mockery. However, you know what motivated me to not do what you asked?"
When he didn't reply, I raised my head to meet his concentrated eyes.
"Justice," I declared.
"Jus...tice?" he questioned the single word, my smile widening as I slowly nodded.
"I'm mocked because I'm an orphan. A baby abandoned in the dirty ground by my unknown parents. I'll never have the privilege of figuring out my background or purpose in this world, and that led to me being mocked by all the rich folk and even my own people, who took me in to feel good about themselves. What satisfaction would I get by ending my life? Where is the justice in doing a foolish act like that? In the end, won't they still laugh? Won't they continue their ridicule? Or will their fake words of pity bring me back to life?"
His jaw opened slightly and I awaited his words, but nothing came out. A soft chuckle escaped my lips and I finally looked away.
"Justice is the action of fairness. To be able to grasp what you wholeheartedly deserve. I may not have a penny to my name, I may always be the laughing stock of this village, but I will never be a victim of circumstance, and that is exactly why I never went with the idea of ending my life."
Looking over my shoulder, I whispered, "I will find my path. I can count on the very universe to peer into my heart and guide me to who I'm destined to be with. I'm merely seventeen. I'm only starting life, and who knows when my roses will finally blossom and reveal their glittering beauty? All I know is that when that time comes, the scent of those roses will bring good fortune to my very doorstep. When that happens, that will be the universe's way of telling me my time has come to find the truth of who I am.”
With that, I turned my head around to face my path, and I slipped my hands in my pockets.
"Thanks
for the wise words, sir. Sorry for the tooshie showing. Promise I'll save that for my future husband. As for that shrine on the hill, I may just check it out. Make sure you avoid the elders and get some rest."
Pulling my left hand out to give a quick wave, I headed towards the path that would take me home, my mind and body feeling proud of the person I'd learned to become.
At least I gained some wise advice from a drunken fool...but I wonder, who is more foolish?
Me for taking him seriously, or him for thinking that a poor lifestyle isn't worth living for? Who knows.
Not My Destined One
~XAVIER~
* * *
"She's perfect!"
If it was anyone else who spoke those words, the growl that vibrated against my throat would have escaped my dry lips. I was seething with anger, my feet pacing back and forth while I crossed my arms like a little boy about to throw a tantrum.
I had every right to be downright mad!
"Sweetheart."
I paused in my pacing to look at the other side of the room. My father was beaming from ear to ear as his eyes set on the love of his life: my mother.
Mother just had to do her motherly duty of spying on me, and she was delighted with the disappointing results. I, on the other hand, would not settle for this.
The universe is wrong. No way in hell is it THAT girl.
Mother clapped her hands happily, her stunning red eyes glimmering like rubies. Unlike myself or Father, my mother's eyes always changed color. Whether it was a female thing or her heightened magic ability, her true eye color was similar to ours, a mixture of turquoise and aqua green.
You'd think red was a symbol of anger, but for my mother, she was absolutely thrilled with the "good" news and it showed in her twinkling eyes.
Mother was the same height as me at 6'0", but with her wardrobe of high heels from across the universes, you never knew what height you'd get with her stunning ensemble for the day.
Her hair was blonde with hints of tinsel gold and silver and was always curled unless she was ready to enter into the line of battle. She always had her dazzling crown on, the jewels always matching whatever gown donned her tall, curvy figure.
Today she wore a glimmering red dress that shifted from bright red to a bloody dark shade of red. Even the glitter shifted from bright silver to black rhinestones. It was something you'd wear to the finest gala in the lands, yet with my mother's fashion, this wasn't even at that rank of importance.
Casual wear. Only to my mom.
I personally didn't blame her. She was the queen, after all. It amused me when the human leaders met her. They always assumed my mother was a gold digger who merely sat on her throne and ordered the finest pieces in the lands with Father's credit card.
They underestimated her by far, not knowing just how lethal she was. Mother knew all the arts of battle and only the presidents of various universes knew exactly how dangerous my mother was.
She may be the queen and sit next to my father on the throne, but that was merely her choice. If she wanted to rule our entire kingdom, or even our universe, she'd be able to take my father out and rule it entirely on her own.
Even Father knew that.
However, my mother's morals always surrounded the laws of partnership and communication. It could have been why she and father got along so well. They always worked on their relationship, making it like it was a fresh beginning rather than the centuries they've been together.
I admired Mother dearly, even if she annoyed me half the time. I guess that was parenthood in a nutshell. At least I could say I took her stubbornness.
"Good evening, my dear. You have to hear all about what just occurred, ah," Mother happily sang, the roses and other plants in the room shimmering with magic and moving like a wind had just passed.
Yup. Mother is far too thrilled. This is just going to get harder.
"What happened? Did the girl pass the test?" Father questioned as he gestured for the two guards that stood at his side to be dismissed.
They bowed in accordance with the standard protocol, and closed the large metal doors of the now purple castle. Father made his way towards where we stood in the living room, walking up to Mother and giving her a long kiss in greeting.
Even now, I still couldn't handle how romantic the two of them were. I couldn't imagine myself being like that.
Kissing and hugging and all the compassion. Why was it required? It wasn't as though it made one feel better.
It reminded me of my young years when I’d believed a kiss to an injured area would make the pain go away.
Mental foolery.
"Good evening, son," Father greeted.
"Good evening, Father. I hope all was well on your end," I replied.
"Ah yes. It was. The kingdom is well and any issues that needed to be attended to have been solved. Now, I'd love to hear about what went on down on the lower lands." He sounded excited, and it was all because of my mother's obvious happiness.
"Oh dear!" Mother pulled away from Father to twirl and clap her hands. "That sweet child has not changed a bit from when I saw her when she was but six years old. So hardworking and smart. Her heart still carries hope in the very universe. Even with her grave circumstances and the labor she has gone through in that wretched village. I remember observing her through the years and how they mocked and insulted her. She'd stand there and take it all, even when it brought tears to her eyes and made her feel like she had nowhere to belong."
"Mother. I have no idea what level of vision you have to see all of that from a few encounters. That can't possibly justify that she's my destined mate," I groaned.
Mother completely ignored me, continuing on like I hadn't said a single word, "Her best friend is rich and can afford to give her the world, and yet she doesn't think to ask for such from her. She could be jealous, envious of her lifestyle and a clear difference in status, yet she loves her friend like a sister, without a hint of bad intentions. She'd lay her life down for her friend without a second guess. Who still does that in that world? Humans are growing more selfish by the day and yet there are still a few diamonds hidden in the depths of coal and dirt."
"She sounds wonderful. I'm excited to meet her," Father immediately approved.
Oh no.
"Father. Mother is exaggerating, again." I stressed the 'again' part because she clearly was painting an image in my father's mind that this woman was truly princess-worthy.
"I am not," Mother brushed my comment off and moved to wrap her arms around Father's neck. "She'd be a wonderful queen for our lands one day! I can see why her beautiful rose is so radiant with power. Her magic is dangerous. She simply has to learn how to tap into it. Something we can teach her!"
"We?" Father arched an eyebrow at her. "You're not saying..."
"Mother." My voice was as cold as ice. "No."
Mother's grin only widened. "It's been a while since I've felt like teaching. If all goes well, I want to be her trainer. May cause a bit of a ruckus and jealousy in the halls of the academy, but that will make it livelier." She laughed, and I shivered.
It gave off a cynical sound, and I worried this wasn't going to be a good idea at all. Father smirked, and I knew he was going to go through with her idea.
Mother hadn't chosen a student to train in years. Everyone knew that if the queen herself chose a student, it meant that an individual had the potential to rule. If this girl knew what she'd get into by accepting my father's invitation to the school, she'd run to the furthest universe and never come back.
My mother may look nice on the outside, but her training was far worse than anything I could imagine. She'd probably have some level of pity for this new girl who has no magical talent. Or at least, nothing I'd witnessed with my own eyes.
"Mother." My voice was stern, getting both my parents’ attention. It was time to end this wishful thinking and lay down the facts of the matter.
"There is no way that girl is my destined queen. She may ha
ve some good looks, but she is nowhere near worthy to stand next to our kind. I didn't sense a hint of fae magic inside her, and she fully peed in the bush like a commoner!"
Mother rolled her eyes. "Says the boy who couldn't look away and was checking out her plump tooshie."
My jaw dropped and the heat that rushed to my cheeks made Father chuckle.
"That means he's interested," he concluded.
I quickly shook out of my state of shock and actually growled in pure frustration. "No! I am not interested in that barbaric woman! She would not be deemed worthy to stand by my rightful side, let alone give our kind the peace of mind they deserve. She is human and of poor status. She has no assets to put on the table and even attempt to deem herself worthy of trying out for the throne. The universe is clearly wrong in this decision because she has no magic whatsoever. The glistening purple rose that sits in the hidden sanctuary is not hers."
I crossed my arms once more and shook my head, unable to get her commentary out of my head.
"She may have some common sense and knows how to use her words, but she didn't pass the test in my eyes. Hmph. Justice? Why does she want justice over being picked on? If she was strong-willed, she could simply brush it off and never look back. A true Queen would put her emotions to the side and accept her fate."
I'd closed my eyes for a split second and froze when I noticed that Mother was right in front of me, her judgmental gold eyes directly staring into mine. I immediately gulped, realizing I said something to piss her off because the room grew cold and the magic that once freely flowed through the plants seemed to vanish. The same plants began to quiver as though they were live beings.
First response. Apologize.
"Sorry, Mother," I sincerely apologized. She didn't move, her lips in a stern line as she carefully looked at me. I wanted to move my gaze to Father and try to get him to save me from Mother's wrath, but I felt if I dared turn my attention to anywhere else, I'd take my last breath.
"I do not care what you think of her. The universe, our mother who gives us the very air we breathe and has blessed us with such a blessed lifestyle, is never wrong with her decisions. She is the reason why you were born and given this fateful opportunity to one day rule. She makes no mistakes and if you cannot acknowledge that, you will struggle with this quest, son."
Fae Rose Academy: Year One (For The Purely Divine Book 1) Page 4
