Eve of Enlightenment

Chapter 18

In the days following the party, I do not have an opportunity to apologize to Mab, though, for better or worse, there is plenty of time for reflection. Never before has it occurred to me that she could be anything but perfectly content in her position.

She lives in the biggest house in town, a dispatch of servants to fulfill her every desire. Her family is powerful. Neither she nor her mother will ever have to hold a job, labor a day in the fields, callous their delicate fingers.

Does she know the burn of frostbite or the ache of hunger? They dine on foods prepared by lesser hands, dress in silks stitched by those who could never afford to wear them. What about her world isn't drenched in luxury? What is there to pity?

It is hard to feel sorry for her as I sleep on my pallet in my threadbare rags, and so much of me doesn't. But that sense of despair I glimpsed in her eyes is the realest emotion I have ever seen there. What am I missing?

Would it be foolish of me to think that I knew a side of her that no one else knew? Certainly no one in the village would imagine that their veritable princess wished for a life she could not possess. Not when the one she had was so enviable. Surely any problems in it could be easily overcome... or, if not overcome, then at least overlooked.

What small happinesses wouldn't we sacrifice for the promise of a full belly?

Life as we have known it changes overnight. Now that our futures are decided, there is no time to waste. There is work to be done, and we, as fully-fledged members of the tribe, must now contribute our singular talents to make up the whole of our community. 

We are paired with mentors based on our Incarnate's abilities. Köv and Agan are immediately drafted into hunting parties. Even Teak and his raccoon prove themselves useful at foraging. Larger Incarnates have found work in pulling carts or working the earth. There is plenty to do for everyone but me, it seems.

Mab has been matched with a lady. One can only guess at their lessons, but she has been withdrawn from general classes and is often seen about town, dining with leaders and traders from faraway tribes. She dresses differently now. Sits differently. Even talks differently. Or less, should I say... Her father demands the attention of every room he inhabits and tolerates no interlopers. Even his own daughter.

Perhaps it is the benefit of retrospect, but I see that distant look in her gaze more and more often now. The same creeping flush does not visit me when others notice me watching her. I know something that they don't. Occasionally, when our eyes meet, I think I catch a fleeting smile.

No one seems to know what to do with me. My Incarnate is too small, too defenseless, to be of much use to anyone. I am passed from teacher to teacher, learning what little I can before they find they have no use of me. I am no hope.

It is hard watching Köv return triumphant from a hunt with an elk fit to feed the lot of us. It is hard to resent him, too. At least he is pulling his weight. 

At night, I still hear a lone wolf crying outside the village perimeter, and I wonder how many of the Incarnates here are here by choice. How many villagers here are here by choice...