A carriage waits outside the Tower. Two young adults, a boy and girl whose names always escape me, stand at its backend. Two dozen pairs of eyes drink in their uncertainty and fear as the two of them adjust the bags on their backs. Most of us older kids have taken this spot at the mouth of the Tower several times to bid farewell to friends. Tears have been shed, goodbyes have been said, bonds have been lost here. I cannot count how many times I have witnessed the Departure Ceremony for orphans too old to stay at the Tower. The last time I had seen Augustin had been in this spot. There are still six months left before it is my turn to board the carriage and embark on my life’s journey. Gotta make them count.
Kym, Max, and I stand near the back with the few other seventeen-year-olds. A cool breeze blows salt from the sea through the air, a crisp bite that brings Kym an inch closer to me. Our hands graze each other, but the public rule remains in effect. Sometimes I wonder if Max suspects anything, and if so what he thinks. If he hasn’t noticed, is it by choice or by ignorance? And if he has, why does he hold his tongue? To be fair, there’s nothing really to admit. Beyond holding hands, we haven’t done anything to offend him. The almost-kiss doesn’t count, does it?
The Baroness steps between the crowd and the carriage. Even in the sunlight, her skin is white as paper. She sports a long dark coat to combat the oncoming cold, and in her gloved hands she holds a small square scrap of parchment. Her hazel eyes peruse the gathering, a hint of a smirk on her bloody lips. Soon it spreads wide, polished teeth nearly shining in the light.
“Today, we come together to wish our friends Kacir Thorburn and Ellian Aritza well as they set off to start their new lives,” she calls out, loud and clear so that even the adults doing their work inside the main tower can hear. “Kacir came to us only a few short years ago, and Ellian a few before that. Over the course of their time with us, they have learned valuable skills that will aid them in the next chapter of their stories.
“Kacir, what will you be doing in your first footsteps of adulthood?” The smile goes from the crowd to the tow-headed boy, wide and unflinching.
Always the same question, the same speech, the same fake performative grin. Shit, even the same fucking green dress and updo. It all tastes like charade, like an insincere obligation to uphold, like a ritual. I could damn near recite the whole spiel by now. Does she have it all written down somewhere, stashed on her desk in case she forgets it from one month to another? Or has she committed it to memory by now? I won’t be surprised if, when my time comes, nothing will change but the names of those leaving.
“I’m going to be a soldier,” Kacir answers, a hint of pride showing in his small smirk.
“How admirable!” the Baroness muses before looking to the girl. “And what about you, dear Ellian?”
“I don’t know,” the girl responds. “Haven’t found anything I want to do.”
“We all find our paths in time,” the Baroness comforts her. Her lips close around her teeth, adding a glint of judgment and condescension to her smile.
Halfway through my final year, and like Ellian I do not yet have a plan for when I leave. Most have gone to Allendar to take up trades or enlist like Kacir. At Augustin’s ceremony, he claimed to be joining a temple, though he had not seemed too keen on the idea. His normal excited and cheerful self had been replaced by a reluctant, unsure, almost melancholy boy. At the time, I thought the mood change had been due to Max’s absence, or perhaps the homesickness setting in early. But in hindsight, maybe there had been more to it. Had he been forced into that life? Was it to teach him some sort of lesson? Was he even still at that temple now or had he found a way to escape such religious chains to be a truly free man? My heart twinges with a sting of sadness, missing my old friend.
“It is time to say goodbye, children,” the Baroness announces as she steps away from the two of them. “We wish you, Kacir Thorburn and Ellian Aritza, nothing but happiness and success as your venture into adulthood!”
The carriage doors swing open at the words. The boy and girl shuffle toward the opening, Ellian climbing in first. A moment later, the door closes behind Kacir. The crowd breaks into cheers, many youthful voices shouting goodbyes and good lucks. The driver snaps the reins and the horses take off down the road. They take the southern road, the horses kicking up to quick trot as they head toward Allendar.
As the Baroness turns from the departing carriage and back to the gaggle, her wide-brimmed smile shrinks to a closed-lipped scowl. A sigh leaves her, shooting out her nostrils. She looks to someone at the front of the crowd and beckons with a small hand gesture. A girl no older than thirteen steps forward, a small wicker basket in her hands. The girl’s long blonde braids flare out for a moment as she turns in place at the Baroness’s side.
“There are only a few weeks left until the trip into the city,” she announces. “Many of you no longer qualify, but for those who do, I will now draw the names of the lucky three winners. As mentioned before, you are allowed to bring a guest if they also are qualified to attend this occasion. May Glordunak smile upon you and grant you Her favor.”
A hand gloved in white reaches over to the basket, her fingers playing in the collection of names. After a short moment of digging, her hand resurfaces from the little paper lake with a folded piece betwixt her fingers. She unfolds the scrap, her eyes going from whatever name is written there back to the crowd. The Baroness searches for a moment, haunting hazel eyes landing on someone in the middle of the gathering.
“First is Henock Naess,” she declares. A group near the Baroness’s focus erupts into a cheer, and others throughout the crowd offer unenthusiastic applause. The Baroness lets it last for a moment before diving back into the pile.
“Next is Telarria Forsberg,” she says once the noise dissipates, her now-resigned gaze going to a group positioned in the far right corner. Less fanfare comes with the name, but Janco and Jibara make up for the silence with booming celebration. Wassim, holding Telarria’s hand as they are fixed between the behemoths, wears a boastful grin.
“Such bullshit,” Max groans quietly. Kym and I give similar grunts of agreement.
“At least we know now why they’ve mostly been laying low,” Kym adds.
“It’ll be back to old business after the trip, without a doubt,” I comment.
The Baroness dives into the basket one final time. The hazels tease as they linger on the prospects, taking their time on myself and Kym. An insurmountable beast borne of our collective hope and suspense riles up on its hind legs and issues its warning call for release. The Baroness bathes in the silent sound, sweet nourishment for a bitter hag, before revealing the last folded paper. An eager little square dying to spread out and give up its handwritten secret. While some wait with bored impatience, others hold their breath and beg the gods for their name to be scrawled across the parchment. But only one more of us can have it, and I cannot deny how my own heart yearns for the prize.
Kym takes a tight hold of my hand, and I return the squeeze. The Baroness’s eyes find us, a hint of a smirk betraying her cold gaze. Her mouth moves, scarlet lips parting to shape the name prepared on her tongue. The anticipation swells to its peak, and she finally utters the name:
“Kym Rudge.”
Nothing can contain our excitement. The nearest kids add their good spirits to our celebration. Even Max offers a holler or two. But the world slips away as my girl wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me into a warm, perfect embrace. It ends in a second when she unlatches and we pull apart. Possible prying eyes force the brevity, lest rumors set in like the evening mist.
“Congratulations, winners,” the Baroness puts her fake smile back on. “Submit your requested guest to me within the week so that I can make the necessary arrangements. Failure to do so will result in forgoing your option to bring an approved guest. Enjoy the rest of your day, children. Lessons will resume in the morning.”
Like a spirit she drifts away, steady stride carrying her toward the second Tower. The crowd disburses into little clumps that wander every which way. Wassim and his cronies linger for a moment, the rat-faced leader eying Telarria like vulnerable prey. She returns the look with a toothy grin, happy and longing. The great twin buffoons talk excitedly about something I can’t decipher. Pinnow, on the other hand, sits on the grass, his attention fixed on the little bug crawling up his arm. It isn’t long before he is scooped up by one of the twins, setting the little one on his shoulders. The quintet set off around the rocky base of the main Tower, Pinnow’s delighted giggle trailing them.
“How much you wanna bet one of them fucks up before the trip?” I posit as we meander.
“Not likely,” Max shrugs. “They worked hard enough to have the chance. Why would they ruin it last minute?”
“Because they’re stupid and careless,” Kym offers, leading us toward the shore. “I personally wouldn’t be sad if they had their invitation revoked.”
“Is it time for a little bit of blackmail?” I ask once we are far enough away from possible rubberneckers. “A touch of framing, perhaps? Plant some fake evidence?”
“And risk getting caught and losing your spots?” Max asks. “Is it worth it?”
“This might be our last chance to go to the city before you leave,” Kym pleads with sad eyes. “Let’s be safe and not ruin it.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I admit.
We stop at the crest of the dune. The water sways back and forth in a gentle beckoning. Kym and I set to descend, but Max remains still at the top. Glancing back to him, his attention goes back to the Tower as if it calls his name. Midway to the beach, the two of us halt.
“You coming, Max?” Kym asks, confused by his hesitance.
“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” he says after a too-long awkward silence. “I’ve been expecting a letter. I should go see if it’s in yet.”
“Who would be writing to you?” she presents her follow-up.
Max’s gaze goes from the Tower to us and back again, eyebrows scrunched and a torn look plain on his face. He fidgets with his fingers, a rare mannerism that fills his timid quiet with cracks and pops. He released a hard breath, a jagged sigh, before shaking his head.
“Just… someone,” he finally says. “I’ll see you guys later.”
Max disappears in a second, leaving us confused and full of questions. Kym sighs after a moment, slips her hand in mine, and guides me onward to the shore.
Tyler Gohde 
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