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IN THE CARAVAN ON THE way back to the Cyan Forest, I decide to sit in the passenger seat next to Rowan while the others talk quietly in the back. I couldn’t bring myself to sit and talk with everyone like everything is okay.
I’m pissed!
I’m pissed at the treatment of the Lost Souls and magic users alike, and Princess Mayvie tonight was just the icing on the cake.
I didn’t see the hurt on Prince Kuruks face, but I could sense the stiffening of his body as I drew a deep line between us. Reiterating what Princess Mayvie was trying to say all night.
We aren’t of the same station.
Well...as far as they know.
Shame creeps into my cheeks. I don’t know why I said it. Maybe I was just upset from everything that was going on, but I didn’t mean to make Prince Kuruk the target of my frustrations. He’s been nothing but kind to me since we’ve met, and it was unfair for me to do.
I’ve just been feeling so powerless and weak. I hate not being able to do anything about the wrongdoings that are happening right in front of me.
“Why don’t you guy’s fight back and stand up for yourselves?” I grumble out loud. My voice even startles me.
Rowan looks at me out of the corner of his eye at my sudden break in silence, then focuses back on the road with a tsk.
“We do stand up for ourselves.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
“You know what I mean.”
“I know what it may have looked like to you, Zemira, but it’s not that easy. We can’t do much against nobles.”
“Why not?!” I don’t mean to shout at Rowan. He’s not the one I’m angry with, but I can't help the anger that’s built up in the pit of my chest.
“Zemira, you have to understand something. The Lost Souls get some of the best treatment out of magic users in the whole world. We’re lucky. There are many other magic users walking around who aren’t so lucky. They go their whole lives without stepping foot in a palace, or tasting dishes from the best chefs, or making enough money to support themselves and their family without others turning them away because of what they are and what they can do–”
I shake my head frustrated and look out the window at the trees and houses passing by.
“Why can’t you do anything? Why can’t you at least demand some basic respect from these people and not let them walk all over you. Instead of just smiling in their faces and being so quick to do a little dance to appease them.”
It goes quiet, and my face flushes with the slight that I directed at him.
“The Ringmaster has ordered us not to engage for our protection.” I turn back to him, baffled.
Protection?
“I want to see the Ringmaster.” There has to be something he can do about this. Magic users can’t go on just living like this, accepting mistreatment from nobles like it’s okay.
He sighs and says nothing.
We arrive back at the cabin and are greeted by many of the newer Lost Souls that stayed behind, eager to hear about the party. The others step out of the caravan and follow them into the cabin, indulging them with their stories of the week. I, on the other hand, stay exactly where I am and wait for Rowan to get back in the caravan. It isn’t long before he does and takes me to the Ringmaster’s temple.
We find him in his office space, sitting at a slouching wooden desk piled with papers as he traces his fingers along the braille documents. Rowan clears his throat.
“Ringmaster, we’re here–”
“Why can’t the Lost Souls do anything to stand up for themselves?”
I can feel Rowan bristling next to me, but I don’t care.
The Ringmaster sets down his papers and turns his milky white eyes in my direction.
“Because that would not be wise, Zemira.”
He doesn’t continue.
“W-well why not? I’ve heard the stories about you from the others. The ‘Great Ringmaster’. I’ve heard about the battles you’ve faced and the things you’ve done, and yet, you can’t even bring yourself to protect your people now?!” He sighs.
“You don’t understand Zemira. The Lost Souls have come so far. It isn’t that simple.”
“Why not?! Everyone keeps saying that but no one will tell me why! I’m starting to think–” The elder man lurches out of his chair unexpectedly and grabs onto my wrists.
My body seizes as my mind clouds with brilliant white light. I feel like I’m being transported through time, and when my eyes adjust from the blinding flash, I see a woman sitting on a bed in a small house. Her body is bent as if she wants to roll into a ball and disappear.
“Where am I?!” I gasp, panicked. “Who’s that?”
The Ringmaster’s voice echoes in my ear.
“That is a magic user, before she came under the protection of the Lost Souls.” I watch as two noblemen come into the room and she cowers away on the bed, her skin changing colors.
“What are they doing to her?” I try to shoo them away from her because she’s clearly scared, but I can’t move. “Get away from her!” I shout as they lunge for her and pin her down. “Leave her alone! Leave her alone!”
They began viciously tugging at her clothes when the vision changes to another magic user, hired to perform demoralizing tricks. Then laughed at by the nobles well into the night until he is exhausted, just to make enough money to bring home to his family.
“What is this?!”
Another magic user crosses my vision. This one being blamed for the death of a subject and taken away by authorities as he screams that he didn’t do it. Only for the jail guards to let a group of men into his cell and beat him to a bloody death.
All of these images and more swirl around me dizzyingly. Making me nauseous as tears stream down my face. Magic users being harassed, abused, discarded. It’s enough to make me want to hurl.
“Do you see now!” The Ringmaster’s voice booms in my ear. “Do you see the realities of what being a magic user is really like?”
He lets go of me and I’m slammed back into my body in his office. I stumble backwards into Rowan who holds me steady as I gasp for air through my blubbering tears.
That was horrendous. I want to scrub the images from my mind.
“I created the Lost Souls to be a safe haven for all magic users to be free enough to be themselves and live a normal life! I protect them here in the Cyan Forest, but our actions, and anything we do around the nobles, trickles down to the other magic users who aren’t as fortunate to find us. They’re the ones who suffer from our retaliations. They’re the ones who bear the brunt of the abuse from what these nobles think of us. Is that what you want?!”
I shake my head, dumbfounded.
“If you want to be a better help to magic users, you have to think of the magic users everywhere, and the ripple effect your actions will have on the lowest among us. This is more than just performers getting humiliated in public. This is about the life, death, and wellbeing of magic users everywhere, Dwarf Queen!”
My former title hits me like a slap in the face and my entire body flushes with shame as it reminds me of the privileged life I come from. Even though it came with its own atrocities, I was once those nobles and royals they speak of. And where was my voice back then?
My shoulders curl in as I avoid the Ringmasters unseeing gaze and hold back my tears.
In truth, I know exactly why they don’t fight back. It’s the same reason none of my sister’s and I did when we were under the care of Queen Mother. It’s the same reason none of my sister’s and I did when The People broke into our home and killed our sister in front of us.
The truth of my emotions makes me feel even more guilty and ashamed of myself. I’m not angry at how the Lost Souls have been handling themselves in the face of their discrimination. I’m angry at how their helplessness reminds me of how helpless I was when living at the Hivena castle. I hated how weak and trapped I felt, and I hated the parts of me that were unable to do anything about it. Each incident that happens to the Lost Souls only serves as a painful reminder of when I thought I’d never be free...and I can’t stand it.
*****
THAT NIGHT I LAY IN bed, feeling ashamed and frustrated at my naivete. My heart hurts at the thought of what any of the Lost Souls may have had to go through before they got here. Sweet Sol, hilarious Emitt, wholesome Pierre.
I bury my face in my pillow to rid my mind of the images of what I saw those Lost Souls going through in the Ringmasters visions. I’m almost certain the Ringmaster went easy on me and purposely didn’t show me any of my friends’ pasts. If I did see it...I don’t knwo what I’d do.
Anger courses through my veins at the nobles who’ve participated in such atrocities, but most of that anger is for myself, for being so ignorant and blind. I want to help and make it better, I just don’t know how... or where to begin.
The tears silently spill out and soak my pillow. I feel just as helpless as I did when I was young with my sisters. God, did I even fight this hard for them?!
After a while, my breathing becomes shallow and I struggle to take in gulps of air as my chest restricts in on itself.
I can’t–I can’t lay here any more.
I get up and leave the room to not wake any of the other women with my cries. I don’t even know where I'm going, but if I just lay here I’m going to go crazy. I already feel like a caged animal drowning.
I wind up stumbling into the kitchen where Rowan is sitting at the kitchen counter, staring into the dimly lit space. I pause at the entrance and contemplate if I should go back to my room before he see’s me.
I said a lot of hurtful things this evening, and he’d be well within his right to be angry with me. But before I can leave, he looks over at me and gives me a sympathetic smile.
“Can’t sleep?” I shake my head no, biting my bottom lip to hold back tears. His sympathy is disarming. God I’m sick of crying and feeling pitiful.
He gets up and opens the cupboards, grabbing two mugs from the shelf and makes tea. Then he sets them on the counter and pats the seat next to him. I sit graciously and nurse one of the warm cups in silence.
“Zemira, you have a good heart, and I know you just want to help. Magic users have a complicated history, and I know you do too.” I look over at him questioningly. “Scirocco has told us a little of your upbringing, but not a lot. Hell, even the way you and the other dwarf queens have to battle to come into power is brutal. I know that couldn’t have been easy for you, and I’m glad you were able to break free and find solace here with the rest of us who were fortunate enough to break free from our assumed fate.”
My lips tremble as tears build in my eyes. His words make me wonder what he had to endure before escaping to the Lost Souls.
He clasps a gentle hand onto my shoulder and squeezes reassuringly.
“I know it may seem like a giant mess now, but I trust that you’ll find your footing within the Lost Souls. And you’ll be a bigger help to us than you can ever imagine.” I snort humorlessly, then wipe the snot from my face with a tissue.
“You think too highly of me Rowan.” My hands shake as I grip my mug. “I couldn’t even help my s-sisters. I barely could help myself. The one thing that I was born with that gave me any type of advantage was my title as a dwarf queen and a royal, and I can’t even use that to protect anyone without getting myself killed...I can’t help anyone.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and let the tears fall into my mug. He’s silent for a moment.
“Well, maybe that’s where we need to start.” I look over at him questioningly. “With yourself. Maybe we should start with helping you help yourself.” He grabs me another tissue and hands it to me. “A lot of times we think we have more power in a situation then we actually do, and it’s unfair to yourself for you to carry the burdens of the things that were either out of your control, or you just didn’t have the knowledge or capabilities to handle at that time. Now that you're at a different place in your life, maybe we can help you use your newfound tools, to help yourself.”
I give him a watery smile and wipe some of my tears.
“Thanks Rowan.”
“Of course, I’m sure your sisters would tell you the exact same thing...maybe you should send a letter and I’ll deliver it myself.” My heart stutters.
“A letter? To who?”
“To your sister. The current Queen of Hivena, is she not? Scirocco said that you both were able to see each other one last time before you left. You can write to her.”
I panic at the thought of reaching out to my sister. My breathing shallows and my stomach twists into knots. I don’t know if I can face her. I don’t know if Malala would want to hear from me after the time has passed. What if she hates me for leaving her behind? What if she’s changed her mind about me being alive?
My hands tremble and Rowan places his hand on top of mine to calm my nerves.
“I know you’ve been through a lot. And I’m not going to even pretend to know what the relationship between you and your sisters and being dwarf queens must have been like. But I know one thing. If communication with your sister doesn’t provide you any closure, it will at least provide you clarity.” He squeezes my hand one last time and gets up with his mug. “I’m gonna hit the hay. The new Lost Souls aren’t gonna train themselves in the morning.” I nod gratefully.
“Thanks Rowan.”
“Any time Zemi.” The way he says the familiar nickname warms my heart and reminds me of my sisters.
Maybe he’s right.
I don’t know how the exchange will go, but Malala always wanted to protect us. There were many occasions where I wished I was more like her, brave and willful. I don’t know if she’ll hate me for leaving and not being there for her and our sisters, but I have to stop running. I can’t keep cowering away like this. No one’s going to carry these burdens or solve my life problems for me. And I know one thing for sure, I can’t continue with the rest of my life ignoring the only family that I have left that I love.
I find some paper in the kitchen drawers and carefully draft my letter. Minutes drift by and I ball up one paper after the other. Nothing sounds right. Everything sounds too disingenuous, too stiff.
I rewrite it over and over again until I finally land on a letter. It’s still rough, and no amount of words can manage to express everything that I want to say accurately, but it’s raw and honest.
I hope she sees that too.
When I crawl back into bed I feel much more at ease. By morning, I hand Rowan the letter to be sent and he smiles at me reassuringly.
With the use of his magic, by the end of the day he had a letter in return, and I’m both elated and on the verge of a melt down when he hands it to me.
When I find a moment to myself, my eyes scan the page and tears blur my vision at seeing my sister’s handwriting and reading her words in what feels like forever.
She isn’t angry with me...she doesn’t hate me.
I laugh humorlessly to myself as relief floods my body in places I didn’t even know I’ve been tense. I fall to my knees by my bed and cry into the letter, unable to hold back the pint up guilt and shame that I’ve been carrying since I left Hivena. Becoming dwarf queens was the hand that my sisters and I were dealt. It wasn’t our fault, but it is our problem.
Once I finally collect myself, I grab another pen and paper and write another letter. It’s so good to hear from Malala, and there was no mistake made in her becoming queen. It didn’t occur to me that my sister could be feeling the same. Guilty, out of place...ashamed. That’s one more way I’ve probably been too self focused and selfish.
Malala and Aidene were always innovative in their thinking. They had dreams of making Hivena a better place to live for all of us. She’s saved me from countless situations and punishments with Queen Mother. Even on our last day with each other as I was running away from our problems, she was the one standing there, facing them on her own. And she saved me once again. I’ll always be in her debt. I think she’s the most amazing queen that ever walked those castle halls. I want her to know that with all of my heart.
I seal my letter and hand it off to Rowan who takes it with an oddly giddy smile. That night I’m able to sleep with more ease with a giant smile of my own.
