Reparations (2 page)

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Authors: T. A. Hernandez

Tags: #coming of age, #teen fantasy, #female main character, #fantasy short story, #young adult short story, #first person narrator, #medieval fantasy, #young adult fantasy short story, #young adult coming of age, #literary fantasy short story

BOOK: Reparations
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There were moments when I
slipped—by accident when I was young, and often deliberately as I
grew older. Each time, I caught a glimpse of contempt in their
eyes. As fleeting as a snowflake melting on warm skin, but it was
there. When I showed Kito what I could do, I waited for the same
contempt to cross his features. It didn’t. I loved him instantly
for that.

I made an effort to see him more
often after that encounter. He was just a confidant at first—a
friend, someone I could be myself with. Eventually the feelings
developed into something more, though neither of us spoke of it.
Not until after we were imprisoned with the other enchanters and we
were sure we’d soon be dead.

The rebellion broke out the
following summer. Tired of the restrictions and discriminatory
policies placed on them by the Pure Ones, the enchanters organized
an uprising. They’d been planning in secret for months. The entire
country was caught off guard, but leadership in the Imperial City
recovered quickly. My father was the one who suggested that all
enchanters be imprisoned, whether they were directly connected to
the rebellion or not. “It’s just a precaution,” he told me. “This
is getting out of hand. We can’t afford for any more enchanters to
join in.”


Putting them in prison is only
going to turn them against you,” I said.


We have to act with speed and
force. You have nothing to worry about. No one knows you’re
Tainted.”

He had never called me Tainted—not
to my face. I’d never believed he thought of me that way, but in
that moment, I realized that was how he must have thought of me all
along. Tainted, less-than, subhuman. The hurt must have shown on my
face because he hurried to apologize for the slip. “Amaya, I didn’t
mean it that way—you know I didn’t.”

I had already turned my back. I
ran out of our home and made for the servant’s district. I had to
warn Kito; he and his entire family were enchanters.

Soldiers dashed through the
streets like hundreds of ants on a united mission. They pounded on
doors and yanked known enchanters out of their homes—a simple task,
since the law required all enchanters to be registered and to live
in designated housing. The force and brutality with which they
worked convinced me the enchanters would find no kindness in
whatever prisons they were to be sent to. I ran harder, hoping it
wasn’t too late to save Kito and his family.

Soldiers already had his brothers
and one sister restrained by the time I arrived. Their hands were
bound together to prevent them from using magic. An older man lay
slumped against the side of the house with blood running down one
side of his head. Kito’s father, as I’d learn later—the first
casualty in his family.

Two more soldiers came out of the
house dragging his mother, who clutched her youngest daughter in
her arms. The girl shrieked in terror. A mass of soldiers shuffled
out after them. There were so many of them that it took me a moment
to realize the thing they were all gathered around was Kito, who
still fought them ferociously.

I extended a hand. Fire shot from
my fingertips and struck the unarmored faces of the three nearest
soldiers in the cluster. They screamed and fell as their comrades
looked around in confusion to find the source of the
attack.

Kito took advantage of the chaos
to break free. He sprinted towards me as I hurled more fire. Back
to back, we fought as soldiers closed in all around us. We managed
to fell a few of them, but we were outnumbered, and neither of us
had any real practice in magical combat. They captured us and bound
our hands like the other enchanters, then led us all to the center
of town to await the march that would take us to our
prison.

An officer recognized me during
this time and notified my father that I’d been captured with some
other Tainted Ones. He came to try and set things right. “There
must be some mistake,” he said. “Amaya is as Pure as you or I.
She’s never demonstrated any magical ability.”


Liar!” I screamed. “I’m an
enchantress. Untie my hands and I’ll show you! I’ll kill all of
you!”

My father’s eyes turned to steel.
He raised his chin and glared down at me. “There has definitely
been a mistake,” he said to the officer beside him. His voice was
as cold as a frozen mountain night. “This girl is not my
daughter.”

He walked away. I never saw him
again, nor did I wish to. I hated him, actively, and with every
piece of my soul. That hatred was fuel to my survival—at least, in
the beginning. Somewhere in the midst of all the horrors that
followed, hate became too exhausting, so I simply forgot him. I was
perfectly content to let him slide out of memory
forever.

Now, Kito is bringing all of it to
the surface again.


Amaya?” he says.

I’m not sure what he wants me to say, so I
just echo his previous statement. “My father might be
alive.”


If the Tainted Army is holding him
hostage, you could be used as leverage to force him to
cooperate.”

 


Would that really be such a bad
thing? If it helps them create a world where enchanters can use
magic freely?”


They might hurt you to get to him.
They might even kill you.”

I frown. “But I’m an enchanter,
too.”


That doesn’t matter,” he says.
“They’d do anything if they thought it could help their cause. I
don’t think you understand how desperate they are. And we’ve both
seen what people can do when they’re desperate.”

He’s right. It was desperation
that drove the Pure Ones to imprison every enchanter in the
country. Desperation made them starve us to the point where we were
so weak we could no longer use magic. Desperation told them it was
necessary to kill anyone who showed the slightest indication of
causing trouble. Yes; I have seen what people are capable of when
pushed to desperation and fear.


There’s nothing to worry about,” I
tell him. “I don’t look anything like I used to. No one will
recognize me.”

Kito struggles to keep his eyes
open, but he nods and kisses my hand one last time before drifting
into sleep. I lie awake thinking for a while longer. When
exhaustion finally wins out, I sleep long and deep and
safe.

* * *

For the next several weeks, we
march inland with the Tainted Army on their mission to liberate
every imprisoned enchanter in the country. We never find more than
a few dozen in any one place, but there are always plenty of
corpses. There are half-buried corpses and burned corpses and
corpses left out in the snow and sun to rot. The Pure Ones have
killed so many enchanters that I wonder how many can possibly be
left. Are there enough of us to hold power, to ensure that such
genocide never happens again?

We encounter pockets of
civilization along the way—towns and villages and homesteads where
some of the others feel they might start new lives. They leave us
in twos and threes, and we all embrace them, wish them the best,
and hope they’ll find acceptance and shelter in their new homes.
The Tainted Army has made it a crime to force any restrictions on
enchanters or treat them unfairly because of what they are. Most
people seem willing to comply; magic is useful, after all. Still,
there will always be some who fear our power and wish for the days
when the Pure Ones controlled and restricted every aspect of an
enchanter’s life.

Despite all who have left us
on the road, our numbers continue to grow slow and steady. This
gives me hope. It is said that one skilled enchanter is worth at
least a dozen Imperial Soldiers. Perhaps there
are
enough of us.

Hope and good food have given me
and Kito new strength. We are both still too thin, but not so much
as we were before. There is color in Kito’s face that was not there
before, and the spark in his eyes grows brighter each day. I can
feel it growing brighter in mine, too. Now we are the ones who
offer words of comfort to the newly freed prisoners who join our
company; “You’re free. You’re safe. No one will hurt you
here.”

As we near the Imperial City, we
come upon a village where a company of Tainted Army soldiers are
stationed. Their captain is a man I recognize—a former armorer who
once serviced high-ranking Imperial Soldiers. His name is Tohru,
and he was arrested early in the rebellion for supplying the
Tainted Army with weapons and armor. He meets my gaze and I shuffle
behind Kito. There’s small chance anyone will recognize me in this
state, but it can’t hurt to be cautious.

The captain approaches. Kito
clutches my hand and steps protectively in front of me. “You there.
Girl—let me see your face.”

Tohru pushes Kito aside and takes
my chin in a firm hand. His eyes narrow as he studies my face. I
glare back, hoping my hardened expression is one he could never
imagine on the soft, delicate features of highborn Amaya Rokuro. I
am no longer that girl, all silk and flowers and sweet-smelling
soaps. I am stone and mud and hard-won survival.


You’re Magistrate Rokuro’s
daughter,” says Tohru.

My insides freeze. “I—no—you’re
mistaken.” The stammering is not an act, but I hope it will make me
sound more convincing.


There’s nothing to be afraid of.
You can be honest.”

I glance at Kito, who can do nothing but watch
to see how this plays out. His posture is rigid, every muscle
tensed. His eyes scream, “No.”


My name is Hana,” I say. “My
father was a merchant. That’s the truth.” Kito helped me concoct
this lie a few weeks ago. My speech is too formal to pass as a
peasant, but it’s conceivable that I could be the daughter of a
wealthy merchant.

Some of the other soldiers gather
around us, conferring with one another in whispers. One of them
approaches Tohru, speaks into his ear. He considers, nods, turns
his attention back to me. “We’re taking you to the Imperial City.
Rokuro will tell us who you really are.”

The soldiers surround me in the
space of a heartbeat. They bind my wrists in front of me before I
can even think of a spell that might help me escape. A flame starts
to form in Kito’s hand, but soldiers restrain him, too. He thrashes
against them to no avail. “You can’t take her!”


Relax,” says Tohru. “If what she
says is true, she has nothing to worry about. We’ll return her to
you safe and sound.” The smirk on his face says he knows I’m a liar
and looks forward to the moment when he can prove it.

He grabs one of my wrists and
leads me to a horse. Seeing no option that won’t make my
predicament worse, I cooperate and follow him willingly. I catch
snatches of whispers as we pass through the crowd.

“…
serves her right.”

“…
Rokuro’s daughter?”

“…
the one who gave the
order…”

I bow my head. My father’s legacy
will haunt me until the day I die.

The captain mounts the horse, and
some other soldiers help me up behind him. With my hands tied,
there is nothing for me to cling to. He kicks the horse into a trot
and I struggle to keep my balance. I can still hear Kito shouting
as we ride away from the village.

Once again, I am a prisoner.

For a moment, I consider that it
might not be such a bad idea to cooperate. Perhaps I can help make
up for my father’s crimes in some small way. But I remember what
Kito said about desperation, and his fear that the Tainted Army
might harm me just to get my father to comply with their demands.
No matter how I look at the situation, it’s a cage, and I have had
enough of cages for one lifetime. I will not be used and
manipulated for anyone’s cause, no matter how noble it
seems.

I consider throwing myself from
the horse and running back towards the village, but Tohru could
easily catch me again. I will wait until nightfall. Perhaps when we
make camp and he falls asleep, I can escape somehow.

To my disappointment, we stop for
the night at a guard station along the road. I will likely be
watched, then, which means there will be no chance to escape. If I
could use magic, I might be able to get away. But magic is
channeled through movement and expelled through the hands. With
mine tied, palms wrapped together tight, I’m powerless.

I see an opportunity when Tohru
takes me inside the officer’s tent to eat with him. We are the only
ones there, the others having already finished eating. Tohru dishes
out leftover food for the two of us. He puts a bowl of rice and
fish in front of me but does not unbind my hands. I make a show of
trying to hold my chopsticks with my fingertips, letting them fall
on the floor every once in a while so that Tohru has to stop eating
and retrieve them for me. He is patient at first, responding with
kind smiles when I apologize for my clumsiness. After repeating the
process a dozen times or so, an exasperated sigh escapes his
lips.

I take another bite and drop a
chopstick again. Tohru does not immediately bend to pick it up. I
wait a few moments before clearing my throat. “Excuse me, captain.
Would you be so kind as to pick that up for me?”

He does, slowly and deliberately.
The lines around his mouth have deepened as he scowls, and I can
tell he is trying not to raise his voice when he speaks. “If you do
that again, you won’t get it back.”

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