Chapter 1
Where does my story start?Oh, it was quite some time ago. So much has happened, let me see what I can remember.
I suppose it starts in the year I had three names. Before that is… mostly prologue. But that year, everything changed. That year, my first name… was Sara. A normal name, a common name, and definitely not the name of a True-Bonded. Yet on that breezy spring day in the twenty-ninth year of the reign of Queen Whitewing, it was my dearest and deepest hope that I’d soon lose that name.
I prayedto the High Spirits, who ruled over Elista and The Mistlands, that today I’d be Chosen. Because today was my last chance. At twenty I would be too old next year to participate in The Choosing. There were only a few others my age in the milling group of perhaps two hundred youths in the Miraline village square. The rest were younger, fifteen or sixteen mostly, and since I was tall for my age, I stood a full head above most here. Few returned if they weren’t Chosen in their first couple years. Yet I was determined. I had to be Chosen, because for me… there was nothing else.
I had no desire — and indeed no real skill — to be a tradesperson, nor a farmer. Nor did I wish to be “some man’s wife”. When I married it would be for love, not to have a man support me because I lacked in skill or education.
To be fair, I was not lacking in education. If anything, I far exceeded most in that department. I was the foster daughter of a pair of scholars at the Library of Miraline, and had received the benefit of their vast learning. I wasn’t bright, like my foster sister — the actual daughter of my foster parents — and hadn’t picked things up quickly. But they’d been persistent in their attempts to teach me and eventually most of it had sunk in.
A cloud passed over the sun and darkened the area where I stood, and my mood fell. I wasn’t pretty like some girls, nor particularly bright, or witty, or charming or much of anything. I was educated but had no real-life skills. If I wasn’t Chosen… No, I didn’t want to think about that.
I have to be Chosen.
And when that cloud had cleared and the mayor of Miraline — a True-Bonded artist named Kestrel — took to the platform at the far end of the square, a hush fell over the murmuring crowd of youths. Most of the young men and women here had their parents waiting around the fringes, but my parents weren’t there. My birth parents had died when I was young. My foster parents were… as usual… at the library, working. It’s not that they didn’t care, they did, but their studies were important and usually came first, and I knew that.
The mayor was beautiful, of course. All True-Bonded were enhanced, possessing the powers of their avatar animals, Chosen as part of their Bonding process. She was resplendent in a green dress, which set off her fiery red hair. Smiling, she raised her hands and the crowd knew she was about to speak.
“Families from Miraline and the villages of the North. You all know what today means, so I will not belabor the details. Instead, I welcome our wonderful companions from The Mistlands, the Lumani, to begin The Choosing!”
And there they were.
The Lumani floated over the crowd of youths, appearing as glowing orbs, anywhere from the size of a small coin to that of a balled fist. They were creatures of light and Anima—the mystical energy of The Mistlands. And I hoped and prayed that one of the Lumani here today would Choose me and be my ticket out of this town and into a Noble House. I know that wasn’t the most selfless and noble of goals, but supposedly that didn’t matter. It was the spirit of a person the Lumani connected with, and I just hoped they could sense my utmost need to be Bonded to one of them.
Yet…
Of the two dozen or so Lumani floating over us, none headed in my direction. The Choosing could take some time. The Lumani might stop and consider several people, using their mind-voice to interview them, before finally settling on their Chosen.
Signaling, waving, jumping up and down, none of these things were permitted. We had to stand there as still as possible for the Lumani, as they hovered over us.
And so, the time ticked by. The hands on the large clock, in the tower just off the center of town, next to the town hall, slowly marked the seconds… then minutes. Two hours were allotted for The Choosing, and I was sweating with restrained need and anxiety after the first hour passed. By my count, thirteen children had been Chosen by then. That left — at a quick count — ten Lumani.
To try to take my mind off the minutes ticking down on my fate, I tried to observe and categorize the Lumani still floating around. Three were rather large. We were told the size of a Lumani meant nothing, but most people still assumed the larger the Lumani the more powerful it was. Of those three, two were darker shades, a deep rose-maroon and a rather stunning purple. I’d love to be Chosen by that one, such a royal color! The last of the three was a pale yellow, near to white. Five of the Lumani were various middle sizes, from the size of an average apple down to… well perhaps a crab-apple. Of those, the three that stood out were a bright and perfect red one, a sky-blue, and a fiery orange one. The last two were quite small, the size of small coins. One of those was a mottled red and blue, and the last a soft cream-yellow, and…
…that one was heading my way!
I tried to be as still as possible as they floated closer. Yet I must have been near to vibrating with excitement, since this one seemed to be heading straight for me!
But then they stopped, hovering over the young girl in front of me. She blinked up at the tiny glowing orb. “Oh, hello!”
I caught one side of the strange conversation that then took place.
“I want to go on adventures! Perhaps be a sea captain or a far-explorer of the wilderness!”
“Because there is so much of this world to see. Wouldn’t you want to see the world?”
“Ah… well… I’m quick to learn new things.”
Ha! Everyone said that.
“And… I… uh… I have a heart for adventure and excitement. Yeah, I’m brave, that’s it!”
Perhaps she was and perhaps she wasn’t, but I didn’t see the appeal to being brave personally. Why would a Lumani pick a host who would run into danger and get themselves killed? The whole point of The Bonding for the Lumani was to experience the world through us corporeal beings, not die young.
“Well, because I’d be good to you and we’d have lots of fun together and… ah… yeah!”
Then suddenly the girl’s shoulders fell. “Oh,” she said a bit forlorn. “I… understand.”
