I stall, then turn slowly. “It’s time?”
Riya nods. “Yeah.”
I gulp as I step outside the palace gates. Belwar glows in red. Red banners, red flags, red dye splashed over each threshold. They’re wishing me well, celebrating my forte as the next generation to take up the Belwar mantle. But shouldn’t they have waited until after the ceremony? Failure looms, like the banners overhead. It reminds me of the red room of my dreams. Maybe that’s what my mind was doing as I slept, preparing me for this moment.
“This is where I leave you.” Riya unbuckles her skyglider from her belt. “I’ll see you there.”
“Riya.” I tug at her arm. For the past week we’ve barely talked, but I can’t let it go any longer. “I know you are still mad I lied—”
She scoffs. “You’ve done more than lie. You’ve jeopardized yourself and jeopardized both Belwar’s and Naupure’s futures. If Dad—” She chokes. “If my dad knew about this he would be ashamed. He would have stopped you.”
“Is that why you’re so upset? You think you failed to protect me and he would have?” She won’t look me in the eye. I hook my hands around her shoulders. “Riya, I became the Red Woman not for some thrill. I did it because…because when I was eight and scared beyond measure about being Untouched, your dad pulled me aside and said a true rani doesn’t have to have magic or a God’s blessing.” Tears well in my eyes. “A true rani just helps the people.”
Riya finally looks at me. “My father had a lot of sayings. He wasn’t always right.” She pulls away and reaches for her skyglider. “And you are not an Untouched, you are one of the most powerful witches I know. Good luck today, but I don’t think you need it. You are not eight years old anymore.” In a burst of air and dirt she’s gone.
I wipe my face as the dust settles. I won’t regret my decisions because they put me in danger. It is my firelight. I’m responsible for how people use it. In time, Riya will see.
It’s tradition for a royal to make the journey on foot and alone for one’s ceremony. Then my family and friends will walk back with me to the palace, following behind to show they believe in my leadership. But for now I’m alone. And while the temple lies next to the palace, I have to take the long way, through the city, through the red-bannered street. I’ve never seen Belwar empty like this before. It’s ghostly.
This is it. This is the moment when I’m supposed to be mature, sophisticated, powerful. An adult. It’s never felt so untrue. All of this is just dress-up. Am I the only one who feels like a fraud? Or have other royals walked this path and doubted? Doubted everything?
It seems like days before I arrive at the base of the small hill and begin climbing to the top. The sun burns into me as if it’s focusing a spotlight. I might spontaneously combust as bile bubbles up my throat.
The temple rises into view. Gods, the entire palace has come out for this. I’ve been here hundreds of times. This isn’t any different. My feet drag my lehenga in the hot, dry grass. Who am I kidding? This is completely different.Breathe. Just breathe.
I spot Jatin in the crowd. His eyes widen as he gazes at me. He smiles. I try to smile back, but it crumbles. My parents stand closest to the temple steps. I walk up to them.
“You don’t need to be nervous. You are going to be fine,” my father assures me.
I just nod. I don’t know what to say anyway. Nerves gnaw at the words.
He touches my chin. “Bright dawn, Adraa. Bright dawn.”
This time I smile. I’m the only one freaking out here. My parents are trying to reassure me, and no one else looks scared. The dreams flare to life in my memory, but I push them back down. They’re not an omen, but a blessing. This is my day, my dawn, and my destiny.
Yet, why does it still feel like a lie?Stop! Stop overthinking this. Do this, prove yourself and you get everything you want. Your title, Jatin, happiness…
I approach the temple, climb the three simple stairs and find myself in the center, surrounded by the nine columns of the gods. It’s never felt so empty.
“By the blood of my blood I offer myself to be tested by the gods!” I yell.
Nothing stirs, not even the wind. Maybe the gods aren’t listening. I continue anyway. “I vow to protect all those touched with your blessing.” These last words feel weird coming from my lips. This speech is an ancient one, when the Untouched were thrown away by society. But nowadays? Helping the Untouched is important for Belwar’s future and I don’t exactly care for everyone powerful and Touched.
I try to clear my head. “Allow me to serve through you. Allowme to offer my blood if I don’t prove fit.” A shiver runs through me. I hate that line.
From the first pillar on my right, a wave of heat crashes over me. Red magic.
It has begun.
It’s nice to watch the ceremony instead of performing it. Waves of fire roll off the first pillar and crash into Adraa. But she’s ready. Her arm glows bloodred and she swivels around the flame, elbows and wrists bent. It’s a push-and-pull movement, a dance.
Today, wizards and witches are overly lazy, using only speech to call forth their Touch. But in the original times, casting was full body. I too performed in this way for the gods a year ago, and watching Adraa move reawakens the old traditions I’ve learned. Reminds me how much I inherently move my arms when casting.
Next comes a mountain of orange mist that collapses upon her. She yells spell after spell as she is forced to bear the weight of Renni’s trials.
“She is doing well,” Maharaja Belwar whispers to his wife. He squeezes her arm. “Trust her.”
He’s right. Adraa is doing well. She sweeps the yellow magic around her, turning and moving like the wind. Then her steps harden as a green smoke rises from the bottom of Htrae’s pillar, the magic weaving and climbing like vines. Red unfurls from Adraa’s hands and sways with the branches, untangling them. For this spell she doesn’t shout, mirroring Goddess Htrae’s more peaceful trial.
