Director Harvalres was lucky to have gotten out alive. His guards didn't hesitate in swooping him up and running off the stage. Teenage boys pushed and shoved, climbing on the stage in rage. Others cowered and ran for exits, a few unlucky ones being grabbed and pulled back. The females balcony was a bit calmer, people moving toward the exits. Ay was the first of our group out, Sarah chasing her to be sure that she didn't do anything brash. I sat forward in my chair, my eyes shut in distress.
For 22 years, there's been a nuclear war murdering thousands on the land above us. At 18, you are forced the go and fight for the country above us, part of the Allied forces of World War Three. All my life, we've been taught about and shown the horrors of dead soldiers on the plains.
Most of the new recruits don't last a month. I have to go in two years, and now there are people who are excused from the horror.
Ella and Bella won't die on a battlefield. But I will.
I slowly, sluggishly made my way back to my floor, about to step out of the elevator when I noticed guards standing outside of my door. We made eye contact and I never stepped off of the elevator.
"Come with us," one of the them simply says. We zoom down to the first floor, where several people still wandered around. They take me down a separate hallway, behind a door to what I thought was a supply closet. A large room ends the twists and turns they had ushered me through. It looked like one of the large training rooms I'd seen 17-year-olds do War Training in. Over 40 people were already here, and there was an uncanny, well, similarity. Majority of them also had hair dye, dark clothes, mysterious auras. As someone with blonde and blue hair and a liking for Fall Out Boy, the last thing I felt here was out of place. On top of it all, we were all Purples.
In front of the room, three guards stood over everyone, surveying the crowd. After a few minutes of me standing alone in the corner, one pulled of his helmet, revealing beady black eyes and a standard military shave.
"When I call your number, follow my partner out the door," the gruff soldier commanded. A group of thirty was escorted out by a female guard and one of the other leaders. And then, another 20 left, leaving me and 18 other people. The lead soldier comes down to the floor and walkes around.
"I'm Commander Jars. I'm here to explain more in detail your color and the importance of it. There are so few Purple's because you...well, not gonna sugarcoat it... have magical powers. They haven't been harnessed yet, but something in your blood due to genetics has caught our attention. Most of you can control fire, water, earth, electricity, air, magic, things like that. But, we just have to get it out of you, using a chemical injection,"
The man explained this all very calmly, despite the palpable tension in the air. He shakes his head, as if just now realizing that he's crazy and we're a lost cause.
"Please. Make two lines in front of me," commands the man. We become living statues as he brings a syringe to a trembling girl with bleach blonde hair at the front of the other line. A clear liquid sloshes around, and he jabs it into her arm with little hesitation. All of it flushes into her bloodstream, and when he pulls the plunger back, blue liquid follows.
Literally? Blue blood.
Her knees buckle, and she quietly hits the ground. Everyone in the room scatters away, completely disregarding each other. I cower against the nearby wall, not as hectic as some, but still very scared.
"The power to control water. Not create it, just control it. Observe," Jars leans down, snaps in front of the girl's face and her eyes fly open, swimming with confusion. She stands up, and in seconds, Jars suddenly has a bucket, tipping it over her. She squealed, threw her arms up...
And it stopped. It literally didn't touch her. It just hovered over her head. She held it there.
Until of course, she freaked and dropped it all on her head.
"Trainee 337, you have the ability to control water. Now who's next?"
Jars surveyed the room of scared, shaking teenagers and his eyes landed on none other than yours truly. I had no intention of putting up a fight, so I walked forward, holding my arm out lamely. He refilled the syringe, cleaned it, and gave me a sad look before injecting me with strange liquid. My body flushed with heat, then dropped several degrees, and the lights in the room screamed in my eyes. No wonder the other girl collapsed. All I could do was watch in anticipation to see what color my blood was.
Black. Like my soul. Ha.
Jars looks at me as strangely as everyone else in the room did. He walks away, muttering, and everything was suddenly hyper-focused. Every crack in the cement walls, every hair on one boys' bangs, the frown lines on Jars' face.
"Catch," says Jars.
I barely glance at him and he hurls a knife at my head. I swear loudly, reaching up to intercept it, and everything swirls, focusing on the spinning knife.
It just stopped spinning. It hovered oddly in midair, connected like a straight line through my hand. I dropped it at Jars' feet.
"Control of matter. Literal magic, and on top of that you should be one of the strongest Purples in here."
I step away as he summons the next person to be injected. By the end of the hour, most control earth, fire, water. A few control air, and they could manage to fly. One girl plunged the room into blackness, to which Jars commented the control of electricity. Another guy became completely invisible when his blood continually changed colors. When we were all back together in the center of the room, Jars addresses us one last time.
"In your rooms you will find a new training suit. Tomorrow, Monday morning at 9:30 a.m., please bring it with you to the gym. Be ready to change into it, have spare clothes for after. You will do power training from 9:30 until lunch, and then you have classes after lunch. It will be like this every weekday, from now on until your conscription. For some of you, sooner than others. This group will quite possibly become your closest friends. Get used to them. Please keep quiet about what has happened here. See you tomorrow morning, take the door behind me out." He turns and lets us pass, some moving very slow, others practically running. I made it out the door and someone took my wrist and pulled me aside. I spin, suddenly defensive, and I look into the eyes of a grinning boy, about 4 inches taller than me. His hair is jet black, his eyes are ash grey, and a plaid shirt is wrapped tightly around his waist. I recall his face, how he controlled the air, but that's about all I know.
"Well hello," he says slyly. He looks to be maybe a year older than me.
"Can I help you?" I spit at him, slightly annoyed. All the while, his smirk remains.
"I'm Spade. You are?"
"None of your business,"
"Will you tell me if I let you go?" he holds up my arm, still trapped in his grasp.
"Sure, whatever," I roll my eyes, intending to get away from the...well, handsome stranger. He charmingly kisses me fingers before releasing them, and I roll my eyes.
"I'm Lyra," I step back slightly.
"You're pretty,"
"You're pretty annoying,"
"Why are you blowing me off?" His eyes flashed with subtle anger. But he smiled again and it was gone. He flicked a gust of air at me to prove that I was being distant.
"I don't know. I don't interact with guys much," I say. He takes his plaid off from around his waist, flipping his hair once before he responds.
"I'll teach you. I'd value your friendship. Tomorrow, we can hang out. Until then, au revoir," Spade smiles, drapes his plaid shirt around my shoulders, and walks past me. I shook my head, not realizing I was smiling until my cheeks began to ache faintly. I could've slapped myself.
But he's so cute.
Oh no. No. NO NO NO.
I felt both annoyed and happy as I made it back to the room. I open the door and there was a sigh of relief from the people inside. Sarah was scribbling in a notebook and Ay was listening to music when I entered.
"There you are! At least one of you came back," Ay sits up, climbing down from her bed to greet me. I notice a box on my bed, unopened, but clearly they were curious about it.
"Where's Ella? And Bella?" I ask. Ay's face falls.
"Some guards took them both. They should be back soon, it's been 30 minutes already," Sarah says from her bed, not looking up from her work.
"Where did you go?" Ay sits down with me on my bed.
"They...er, brought all the Purples together. Spoke to us about stuff," I shrug.
"That's awfully vague," Sarah snorts, finally closing her notebook and sliding it under her bed. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I couldn't tell her what happened. So I lied.
"Look, the only reason Purples exist is because we apparently didn't fit into any other groups. They changed up our schedule and sent us on our way. That box, probably has some of my new war training stuff," I glance Sarah's way as she comes to join us on my bed. I push the box off and kick it under the bed to make room for her. She had a confused look on her face.
"Changed your schedule?" she asks. Ay looks equally as interested as she leans closer.
"My classes start at 9:30 now. Not 8:30. And I'm only with other Purples. It goes normal again after lunch,"
"But why?" Ay asks. I don't get a chance to answer, because the door swings open again. Bella stands there, covered in dirt and breathing heavily. Her left ankle was purple and swollen, as if it was sprained. I jump up and rush over, bringing her in the room.
"Someone start the shower. Warm water, if you can get it," I command. Sarah rushes to the bathroom.
"What did they do to you?" I ask, bewildered.
"We had a preliminary...physical assessment...It was hell," she breathed. We usher her into the bathroom and close the door, silent as she showers. Ay climbs back up to her bunk, mumbling the word 'unnecessary' under her breath. Sarah picks up the room phone and dials the number from the office.
"Nurse, please.... I have a Red here in my room, her ankle appears injured. She's showering now, but she won't take long. Okay, thank you," Sarah puts down the phone and returns to the notebook under her bed. Within a few more minutes, Ella returns, papers clutched in hand.
"Hi guys," she says quietly, tossing the papers on top of the dresser. No one in this room is happy anymore, and it concerns me.
"I'm going to take a nap," I say, too stressed to do much else. I roll over, facing the wall, and close my eyes, unable to sleep until the room falls completely silent.
-----
I wake up, confused, a plaid shirt twisted around my shoulders.
Spade's shirt. That boy. I forgot all about him.
The room is dark except for a single lamp, and when I roll over, it's empty. It's like no one is even in the compound. I reach under my bed, my fingers closing around the edge of my package. I bring it out, ripping it open with my hands. Inside is a body suit, purple and black fabric, made of polyester and spandex. Black shoes made of leather and no soles are tucked inside of the folded fabric. I stumble over to the closet and find the deep blue gym bag I received long ago. I pack the body suit, shoes, and Spade's shirt into it, ontop of a change of clothes and some hygiene stuff. I shove it back into the closet and take a moment to glance at the clock. 1:34 p.m. I missed lunch, so I decide that there's no point going down. But something draws me there anyway; after a shower I make my way to the cafeteria.
Wide double doors open to a beige cavern, tables stretched out around the room. I stop at the door, looking for my roommates, and find something totally different. Guards are directing people to different tables, labeled by color.
On one side of the room, a long table covered in a table cloth is surrounded by unsure, quiet teens. Cushions have been placed on the chairs, and the table is continuously clean.
My gaze works it way to the opposite side of the room, where the regular tables are, overcrowded with rowdier kids, broken seats and unclean surfaces. Yellows and Oranges and mixed togethers, Pinks are pushed far away. A small table occupies the far corner of the room, where my color has their heads bent down, afraid of everyone else because of what they don't have.
They segregated everyone.
I turn around and leave, refusing to eat in such conditions. Walking away with no general destination, I find myself in my favorite place, the art room. Easels and instruments alike, I've discovered in the past how easily you can relieve stress here. The drum set is pushed in the far corner, a glass enclosure protecting it in order to keep the sound from disturbing others. Surprisingly, the room is empty, so I make no hesitation to play as loud as I can. Matching the beat to my favorite songs, I pay no attention to figures who enter and leave, enter and leave, until one of them is standing right in front of my glass. I look up and drop my drumsticks.
"Director! How-how can I help you?" I stumble over words, but he merely holds up his hand.
"I was looking through Commander Jars' records and I came across yours, and was interested to discover that you are the only Purple trainee with both a Pink and a Red roommate. So, I've come to ask a favor," the old man says it like he's a neighbor asking for sugar. This is going to end up as something I can't escape.
"Of course sir, anything,"
"Protect them at all costs. They are valuable assets to our future, and your kind seem to be our next strongest weapon. There has been much unrest already, and it is important that Pinks and Reds are well protected,"
The way he says 'kind' makes me furious, but I have to bite back my words.
"Yes sir. I will protect them. But, might I ask...from what?"
"There are very many Yellows and Oranges, and they are quite dangerous. You may not see it now, but as time wears on, they will become restless, and try to harm those above them. So if anyone tries to harm your important roommates, it will be your job to bring them to justice. Understood?"
Every inch of my body is screaming in protest. Ay is a Yellow. She would never hurt anyone.
"Yes sir,"
"Thank you," Director Halvares turns on his heel and leaves.
I pick up my drumsticks and play as loud as I can, until my hands ache and my head can't stay up.