DEAREST

PART 1: FEAST OF WAR, Ch. 3

3

This is what I understand.

Our main purpose is to protect the Lightning Scepter, so, in each generation, an heiress of Juna's power becomes the Atavist master who leads the war, and, because of that, she must practice the Atavic magic throughout all her life.

The problem is that, in spite of how beautiful and solemn I find the aesthetic aspects of this party, with its banquet, its firmness, its warm atmosphere of perfection and whatever they tell me tonight, I do not feel any pride in the war that is coming and that I must lead.

I have on my head a heavy headdress decorated with pearls, crystal beads, silk ribbons and other accessories. My scalp and head hurt since my handmaid braided some of my hair. Usually, I do not wear braids, but tonight is a special occasion. My dress is also made especially for tonight. It is white, made of satin, and has flared sleeves. It's quite light compared to the headdress and the gothic chasuble with matching brocade that I wear on top. This is how I will go down to the Atavist Master Hall, I will sit there, I will receive the tiara from my mother—the previous Atavist Master—, I will listen to my parents' speeches, their blessings, and I will accept their gifts.

I'm not happy, so I don't smile. As I walk, my parents wait for me next to the platform, and I can feel their eyes on me, but I don't look at them. I stare at the carpet, perfectly clean. Not only my parents are there, but all the people who serve our family. My mother had the idea of thanking them in this way, and that's why they're formed in two straight lines, face to face, on each side of the carpet a few meters away. As I move forward, they duck their heads in a sign of respect.

But my mother's idea drives me crazy. Here, in the hall, you can only see the maidens and the people who serve from the first floor up. Where are the failed human experiments that I discovered in the vault a year ago? If something were to happen tonight, these people would be the first to die. More failed experiments. The maidens whose memories are erased in strange ways so that they don't speak outside the castle once their service ends. Of course, there is no pride in that, right, mother?

But, of course, my parents can't see it. Their eyes are fixed on me, and I kneel to receive the tiara from my mother, who puts it carefully on my head, adjusting it among the accessories that the handmaiden has put in there for that purpose. At this, I straighten up, walk up to the platform and sit on the throne.

I look towards the tall front doors, meters away from me, while my mother and father say their words, projecting their voices so that everyone in the room can hear them clearly. They bless me. They say that this is my destiny. They say that "destiny can't be undone", which is convenient for the Einsiedel, because that means that they "are destined to direct this magic." I mean, we're destined. They say that I need to be an Atavist worthy of being remembered in the future. I think of Juna. I think she didn't want the future to be like that, so strict and so sick.

I only pay attention when mother says she has a gift for me. At the same time, a maid sneaks up close to my father and whispers something in his ear while keeping her head low in a sign of respect. My father doesn't know how to react to whatever she has whispered to him, and he stares in astonishment at the maid's black cap while my mother speaks.

The entrance door to the Hall opens wide, and a troop of soldiers enters two by two. This is my mother's gift. The soldiers wear the special uniform of the Einsiedel family guard: an elegant arrange of white and gold. Although I notice a good distribution between male and female soldiers, I also notice the impressive pastiness in their faces, their dull eyes, and the age differences; I can see a man in his forties, and I can also see a girl of no more than sixteen. For a moment, I don't react to it. My attention is diverted to my father, who seems to have forgotten where he is, and remains half hidden near the velvet curtain that surrounds the platform while talking to the maid, who continues with her head down, awaiting orders from my father. I want to know what is so worrying that has my father acting like that.