The piercing Wyrd alarm shattered their peace, jolting both of them out of their thoughts. Seda’s smile fell, and she felt her anxiety flood back in, like she was balancing on a tightrope with hope just beyond her reach.
By the timethey arrived at the Palatium, sweat clung to Seda’s shirt from the scorching sun shining down through the city’s protective dome. She panted from their brisk walk and caught the smell of the stale air, as if the crumbling Palatium walls were exhaling from years of repetitive, painful memories.
Unease filled Seda’s vision as she scanned the crowd that had packed into the stadium. Her eyes softened as she spotted children quietly crying in the scorching sun, their fragile skin battling the heat.Growing up in Joro, children learned from a young age to keep their complaints to themselves, as misbehavior often resulted in severe consequences.
Her gaze landed on the banner proudly displayed on the Palatium tower, showcasing the years since the victory. It had been nearly a thousand years since the gods abandoned their planet, Xyberus, forcing everyone to find refuge beneath the dome.
Just as the sirens were in the middle of their song, they suddenly stopped, and the entire crowd fell eerily silent. Seda froze with her hand trembling as it linked with Cahir’s.
“Everything’s going to be okay, Sed,” Cahir whispered, gently squeezing her hand. His chestnut hair clung to his forehead, and his eyebrows furrowed with concern as he gazed down at her.
A line of Rozzers surrounded the stadium walls, backed by brown, dried moss that had died years ago, stuck between the large, sand-colored bricks of the Palatium. The Rozzers stood rigidly, their dark red uniforms crisp, and their eyes methodically sweeping the crowd for any signs of misbehavior.
A few minutes passed in silence until the creak of a door echoed, and a short, stout man stepped out from the Palatium doorway, clapping his hands as he headed to the podium.
“Attention, all!” he announced into the microphone, his voicereverberating through the speakers. “As you all know, I’m Advisor Teivel, and I amthrilledto kick off today’s events.” His sharp eyes scanned the crowd, and a slight smile crept across his face. “Let us begin!”
A Rozzer stepped out of the doorway, forcefully shoving a man from behind. A rope was tied around the man’s wrists, and blood trickled from a wound on his forehead. The man was struggling with an injured leg, and he stumbled forward and fell. A cry of pain echoed through the stadium as the Rozzer kicked him in frustration.
Seda’s eyes widened, and she instinctively bit her fingernail with her free hand. The sight of blood and pain on the man’s face was too much to bear, and she quickly looked away.
She wished everyone would follow the rules. When you followed the rules, you didn’t get hurt.
A wave of fear swept over her as she recalled that, for the first time in her adult life, she had broken the rules today. It wasn’t because she didn’t try hard enough, but the regulations in Joro didn’t account for that.
“And what do we have here?” Teivel asked with a grin. “An absentee from today’s festivities?”
The man cried as he lay on the floor. “I’m no absentee, sir,” he slurred, blood dripping down his chin. “I was making my way to the stadium from the Murkway, but the sirens stopped before I could arrive in time.”
“You see…” Teivel started, his eyes sparkling with delight. “You’re considered an absentee if you don’t make it inside these wallsbeforethe sirens stop. That’s one of our many important rules.”
When the sirens for the Wyrd sounded, it was expected that everyone would stop what they were doing and attend. Sometimes the sirens went off right after the morning prayer, sometimes in the middle of the afternoon, and other times a few hours before curfew, which was the scariest time for Seda to hear them. Hearing the alarmthen left little time to get home before the Rozzers rounded up anyone still out.
“You’re today’s first rehabilitation member.” Teivel smiled like a wolf scenting its prey.
“My wife and I have had two children before turning thirty! My babies, please, sir. My wife!” the man bawled, pleading for himself. His voice was hoarse as he begged.
“Rozzer, please process this man and bring him into the cell.”
The Rozzer seized the man by his ropes and dragged him across the platform, snatching his ID card and tossing his injured body into the cell, slamming the door shut.
A woman in the crowd let out a piercing cry and rushed forward. Seda’s eyes quickly shifted back to Teivel, her stomach tightening.
“My husband!” the woman screamed. “He was coming!” She dropped to her knees and sobbed as she clasped her hands together, pointing them toward the stage. Two little girls ran up behind her and clung to her, their cries blending with hers.
Please don’t hurt her. Please don’t take her, too.
Seda’s mind flooded with memories of her coworker, Esper, who went to the Camp for a similar reason. Esper’s loved one, Diantha, was collected during the Wyrd, and Esper resisted, calling Joro a tyrannical society.
It was the first time Seda had ever heard those terms, and when Cahir explained what they meant, she disagreed with them, but that was before their time ran out.
Seda brushed away a tear that slipped as those memories overwhelmed her mind.
Cahir gave her hand another reassuring squeeze.
“These are not my rules. I would suggest you pull yourself together before the same fate comes to you,” replied Teivel as his eyes softened. “I would hate to see you end up in the Camp, as you have proven yourself valuable to society.” He looked at her daughtersand back to her. “Your husband has an opportunity to prove himself loyal to us for this disagreeable behavior.”
For Seda, the Camp was a terrifying prospect. She knew it was her one shot at proving she was worthy of rejoining Joro’s society if selected, but the truth was, nobody really knew what went on there. And Seda had no desire to find out firsthand.
