Ascension (4 page)

“
I…I…I
’
m looking for the
messenger.
”
I managed to form a complete
sentence with my suddenly heavy tongue.

“
What would a
girl like you want with the messenger? Not a soul in Ahrenia would
dream of sending a message to a Nether, I can tell you that right
now. Go on and leave this room.
”
The man
grumbled as he turned back around to face the table. Upon it were
small, rectangular pieces of paper, thicker than the scrolls my
father picked up for me, with small numbers and symbols on
them.

A pale man at the
same table peered up at me with a familiar glint in his eyes, which
were shadowed by eyebrows thicker than the hair on his head.
“
Hold on a moment, Gethro. Don
’
t be havin
’
her leave too quick, now. These
old card games are getting dull, and I
’
ve been achin
’
for some real entertainment for
a while now. Hey lassie,
”
he mentioned me
over to him by opening his legs and patting his thigh, but my feet
remained planted in the ground,
“
why
don
’
t you come
over here and join me? You could be my good luck
charm.
”

“
Isaac, I would
quit running your mouth before you get ahead of yourself. What with
you being so drunk and all, I doubt you would get very far before
that alcohol gets the best of you. You
’
d just end up wasting
her.
”

The men at the
table sniggered, and the man named Isaac stood angrily, looking
like he was about to fight, when he stumbled on his feet and
instead fell into the mat behind him in a sprawl, which only
heightened the men
’
s laughter.

Hoping I could use the guards
current good humor to my advantage, I asked again.

“
I need to speak
to the messenger. I believe I know something that may interest
him.
”

This raised their attention. The
large man, Gethro, turned back around to face me, leaning his arm
against the back of his chair, one eyebrow raised.

“
Is that so? Why
don
’
t you tell
us and we will decide for ourselves.
”

With that, I stepped further into
the room and into the candlelight. I felt the energy in the air
shift as I came into view, the candlelight flickering across my
face, illuminating that which I had been forced to hide for so
long.

“
I
’
ve come to ask for evaluation.
If the messenger sees me fit, I wish to offer my services to the
King and work on the surface.
”

Gethro stood from
his chair and walked towards me.
“
Alright. You say you want to see the messenger? Fine.
I
’
ll take you
to the messenger.
”
He grabbed me by the
arm and roughly directed me towards another opening on the left
side of the room. Pushing aside the curtain, he shoved me in front
of him and into the room.

The room was much
darker than the one we had just left, and it took a few seconds for
my eyes to adjust until I could make out the man at the end of the
room. The tall, well-dressed man I assumed to be the
King
’
s
messenger was writing on a scroll at his table. He was much younger
than I thought he would be, only a few years older than myself.
Startled at our brash entrance, he looked up. He tucked a strand of
blond hair behind his ear, which had fallen out of his ponytail. It
rested against his tanned skin, an obvious sign that he was from
the surface. Even the guards tent to wear a dull pallor, their
color having faded after only a few months
underground.

There were strange, clear pieces of
glass that the messenger held up to his eyes, making them appear
very large and very blue. When he lowered the glass pieces, I had
to hold back a chuckle, as his eyes now seemed too small for his
face. His mouth was twisted into a grimace, as if he had just taken
a sip of spoiled goats milk. The overall effect was less than
intimidating.

“
Can I help
you?
”
He had an unpleasant, nasally tone
that seemed to say,
“I
’
m too important for you, why are you wasting my
time?
”
I considered whether of not I
wanted to spend my journey to Ahrenia with this man, or it I should
wait for another, more amiable Ahrenian. Before I could make up my
mind, Gethro shoved me further into the room.

“
This lass here
wants to be evaluated. Thinks she has what it takes to go to the
surface.
”
Gethro eyed me up and down
appreciatively, making it all too apparent that at least he
believed that I did, indeed, have
“it”
.
When his eyes trailed up to meet mine, he grinned suggestively. My
face flamed and I looked away.

“
I
’
ll be the one to decide
that,
”
the messenger announced. He waited
a few moments before clearing his throat.
“
Alone. You are dismissed.
”
I kept
my eyes down during this exchange, only looking up after hearing
the flutter of the curtain that announced Gethro
’
s leave.

“
So you want to
get out of here? I can
’
t say I blame you. Now come over this way so I can see what
you
’
ve got to
offer. I can
’
t
see you in the dark.
”
He stepped towards
me and turned me around slowly, taking me in from every angle. I
tried to suppress the chills running down my back as I felt his
eyes rake my body, but when he put his hand on the back of my neck,
I couldn
’
t help
but flinch. I heard him chuckle under his breath as he brushed my
hair to the side, revealing my number. He asked me and I stepped
closer, turning around so he could read my neck.

“
923.”
He turned
me back around, his hands starting at my shoulders, then trailing
it down my sides. After reaching my hip, he rose one hand, cupping
my chin firmly in his grasp, then used the other to pull me against
him, so that his hand could slide all the way around and grip my
rear. I pulled back a bit in surprise, but he kept his grip,
rotating my face from side to side, his expression
contemplative.
“
Your face is fair enough,
and you have developed well. It
’
s a shame you
don
’
t have more
meat on your bones, though. I guess it can
’
t be helped. I
wouldn
’
t expect
you Nethers to know how to farm anything other than mud.
”
He gave my rear end another squeeze, and I
gasped in alarm, to which he simply commented,
“
It seems pretty firm. However, I
’
m afraid that I
can
’
t see your
shape under that potato sack you
’
re wearing. I
don
’
t suppose
you would mind taking it off so I can get a better
look?
”

I glowered at
him, and with every ounce of dignity I could muster, I told
him,
“
That is up for the King to decide.
He is the one who must evaluate me, I only need you to take me to
him.
”
At that, the messenger slapped me
across the face, then caught it so that he was looking me directly
in the eyes. I held his glare, refusing to back
down.

“
You have no
right to speak to me that way. You are scum. Just another worm in
the dirt. I don
’
t have to do anything for you. For all I care, I could
evaluate you right here, in whichever way I choose. Or, better yet,
I could send you to the guards, let them decide whether or not you
are good enough for the King.
”
With my
chin still in his grip, he used one hand to rip my tunic down,
revealing my chest. His eyes tracked their way down, studying, and
I wanted so bad to disappear, shame flooding my face. When he was
done, he dropped my chin my face to the side, leaving me to pull my
tunic back up over my shoulder. My eyes watered from both the shame
and the slap, but I refused to shed a tear. Instead, I glowered at
him, my eyes burning with hatred and anger. He tsked his tongue,
turning back towards his desk.

“
I have no doubt
that, by looks alone, you would make a nice addition to the
King
’
s slaeves.
However, as far as your performance goes,
”
he paused and looked at me in a way that had my stomach
rolling,
“
well, I
’m sure I’
ll get a chance t test
that out on the way to the capital.
”
He
took out another scroll, and glanced back up.
“
923. That
’
s you, is it not? Just another number.
”

Furious at this man for making me
feel so ashamed, but determined to not let him see, I fisted my
hands until my fingernails dug into my palms. If I wanted to help
my people, I would have to be strong. So I held my tongue and just
watched his hand as he wrote down my number as well as a few
notes.

After the
messenger finished writing, he peered back up at me.
“
What, you
’
re still here?
I
’
m leaving an
hour before sunrise. I don
’
t want to see you until then.
And bring your own supplies. Don
’
t expect me to take car of you
if you forget anything either. Now get out of my
sight.
”

Flustered, I left the room, and once
again found myself amidst a group of guards. The men at the table
were still invested in their paper cards, so I was able to make my
way out of the room without gaining anymore unwanted attention.
Once I was back in the hall, I thought about what the messenger had
told me. I needed to find myself some food, drink, and supplies for
the journey. The problem was that I had no idea what to expect
above ground, nor did I have access to my room to pack supplies. I
paced around the hall, trying to form a plan in my head, when I
remembered the supply room. I rejected it and tried to think of
other solutions, but finally, with a guilty conscience, I headed
down the hall.

Chapter
5

There was a
storage room that my mother used to take her classes to on the days
we worked with roots and animals, in which you could find not only
food reserves but also mining supplies such as gloves and hammers.
Although I hated to take anything from the already low provisions,
I really had no other choice. I tried to justify this by telling
myself that what I was doing was for the best of the colony, but I
still couldn
’
t
shake the heavy feeing in my gut as I entered the storage
room.

I stood in the
entranceway, astonished by how much lower the rations were compared
to the last time I was here, taking inventory with my mother. Where
the shelves used to be filled now had but a few items haphazardly
splayed out They were spread out as if someone hoped that, by
putting more space between the items, it wouldn
’
t look so desperately empty. I
tried to ignore the stone in my heart and think rationally. What
would I need for a journey of an unknown length in an unknown land
with unknown people? The reality of the situation hit me, and I
fell against the wall for balance, knocking down one of the sacks
from the shelves. It was sitting among some of the other sacks,
most of which were nearly empty, but this one was still completely
filled. It must have been on of the bags that was brought here long
ago, out of the hope that we would be able to grow a larger
diversity of crops. However, we never had much success, as the
seedlings needed more sunlight than we could offer. We normally
used these dormant seeds to feed our goats and chickens, but there
were some seeds that were toxic to eat, so they were destined to
rot on these underground shelves. The bag I had knocked down split
open, and a waterfall of seeds began to spill out. Frantically, I
tried to shovel them back into the sack.

I gathered the majority of the seeds
back in the sack, and while I was picking up the last few seeds, I
found one that had already sprouted. A small, green leaf was just
beginning to emerge from the brown shell. I slumped against the
wall, holding the seed in my palm, wondering about the fate of this
delicate leaf. Would it would ever be planted? If so, would it even
have a chance at life down here, never to see the sunlight? Sitting
there, meditating on the seed, I found a reserve of strength that
helped me push on. I dropped in down my shift and got back to
business.

I browsed through the shelves,
grabbing some potato buns, carrots and tubers, hard cheeses, a
water skin, and a pair of boots, leaving my tweed slippers in their
place. Condensing two bags of potatoes together into one, I used
the now-empty sack to hold all my supplies. On an impulse, I
grabbed a small, dull knife, and made my way back to the
sunroom.