Eben watched the snow fall, laughing as lazy flakes landed on his upturned face tickling his cheeks. It shouldn’t have been snowing; it was near the end of spring after all, almost summer. And it most certainly shouldn’t have been snowing inside, but it was.

After getting teased last night, he had awoken this morning sullen and grumpy and hadn’t left his room in search of any of the other chosen staying at House Kale. Instead, he had let the servants bring food to his room, something that the monks would have seen as the height of indolence, but Eben had been in a foul mood and hadn’t cared. He had, however, prayed on and off all day, though unlike usual it didn’t make him feel any better.

Then he had bathed and dressed, taking the servants' offer of pants and shirt in place of his usual robe because he didn’t want a repeat of before. They had led him to the great hall, and everything he had been obsessing over suddenly whisked right out his mind. Because how could he be sad when standing in the biggest and grandest room he had ever been in, with fluffy clouds hovering just under the arched, fifty foot ceiling, dropping a steady stream of brilliant white snow on the guests below? How could he be disappointed at how his new brothers had treated him when floating chandeliers of fire--hanging in the air seemingly without support--melted most of the snow before it touched the ground and kept the temperature in the room pleasant and mild? How could he miss his home while watching sections of the flagstone floor move, like earthen rivers that servants stood on, their feet together and trays held out on either side as the stones beneath them wove them around and through the gathered masses? How could he do anything but stare in amazement as the water of the huge fountain in the center of the room rose twenty feet into the air and slowly shifted into the form of each of the chosen--including him!--like a giant, liquid blue statue?

Eben had always heard that House Kale was the richest House, but leaning on the edge of the large balcony reserved for the chosen and staring out at the gorgeous display, he realized for the first time that people didn’t mean wealth in coin, though House Kale was surely incredibly rich in that way too, but wealth in power. He couldn’t even imagine how many chosen with elementals--the rarest of soulstones--were needed to achieve the perfectly orchestrated effect he was witnessing.

For a time, Eben drunk in the incredible sites, all the while picking scrumptious food off of the plates of passing servants, like quail eggs with tomato relish, and seared salmon rubbed in dill that was perfectly crisped, and then a gloriously creamy square of cheesecake that Eben chased the serving man down to get a second helping of. He also listened to music played by what had to be at least fifty people, sitting next to each other in neat rows of chairs. They used all sorts of things from drums, to horns, to bells, to elegant contraptions of wood and string. Despite the instruments being different from the solitary organ he was used to hearing each night back home, Eben found himself enjoying the sound of them all together, often starting to hum along with one song or another once he caught the tune.

His perch near the balcony also gave Eben the opportunity to search for the adult chosen who were controlling the show. Some were obvious, like the two men with sapphires in their foreheads who stood on opposite sides of the fountain directing the huge sculpture with nothing more than their minds and a few whispered words, which Eben was much too far away to hear. However, it took him some searching before he located a man with a diamond in his throat standing in an out of the way corner of the enormous room. His eyes were closed, his head was tilted slightly up, and he barely moved, his even breaths seeming as steady as the snowfall. Not long after, Eben caught sight of a woman walking beside one of the moving lanes of stones. However, unlike the servants who were carried at a steady pace by the rocky river, this woman stopped every so often as if inspecting things. During one such time, she turned to the side, and Eben clearly saw the emerald fused to her forehead. Now that he knew what to look for, Eben quickly found three more such earth elementalists, which left him feeling quite pleased with himself. For all of his looking though, he never did discover who was making all the chandeliers of fire.

Despite the fun Eben was having, after a time, the amazement and newness of it all gradually stopped holding his attention so very completely, at which point he couldn’t help but notice how alone he was. Unlike him, the other young chosen on the balcony had their families with them. For some, that was just their parents, but others, like most of the noble families, it seemed like the entire extended line was present, from siblings to grandparents to even what were likely aunts and uncles and cousins!

Eben wrapped his arms around himself, missing the familiar weight of his robe, and even more so the monks: Brother Donan with his stern gaze but warm hugs, Ezri who made a delicious apple pie when the season was right, and Cecil who carved him little puzzles of wood each winter solstice.

Eben could feel the tears coming, so distracted himself by snatching a round chocolate from a servant that passed near him, and closed his eyes as the delicious delicacy melted in his mouth just like the snow had on his face.

He was appreciating the subtle difference between the hazelnut flakes that had been used on the outside of the treat and the crushed pecan and caramel that filled the inside, when he heard a small ahem next to him. He opened his eyes, turning to see a girl about his own age standing only a few feet away. She was wearing a midnight blue and silver dress, with her hair braided and stacked on top of her head, and she was looking right at him.

“Hello, Eben,” she said, taking a step closer, her hands behind her back. “I’m Dori. I was going to introduce myself during the gathering last night, but you left so unexpectedly.”

Eben immediately blushed, embarrassed by not only what had happened the evening prior but also that someone like her had noticed his early retreat. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about it and embarrass himself further, so he said the first thing that came to his mind, which wasn’t much better.

“How do you know my name?” he asked, almost choking on the unfinished treat in his mouth, which made his cheeks heat further.

“The dress doesn’t give it away?” she asked, showing it off by doing a small side-to-side swish in front of him.

“Um,” he said, doing his best to swallow the chocolate while dredging up memories of the books he had read in the monastery concerning court attire. Wearing silver meant you were nobility--he knew that much for sure. And then each of the Houses had a specific color that they used, especially at formal occasions. Dark blue was… “You’re from House Ulis?”

“I am,” she said, her smile urging him on. “And that means...”

“That you’re an underhouse to House Filad, whose job it is to keep track of all of the chosen in Neden,” he said, the information coming back to him in a rush.

“Exactly!” she said, clapping her hands together.

Her excitement for his success was genuine, and Eben found himself grinning. He had always loathed reading tomes about bloodlines, and inheritances, and houses, but if he had realized that people actually talked about those sorts of things, especially one of his sisters to be, he would have read every book at the monastery twice!

“There must be lots of names though,” Eben said. “It’s impressive that you knew mine and recognized me.”

“Well, you’re a special case,” she said. “In fact, my friend Eleanor would be quite jealous if she knew I was speaking with you right now,” Dori added with a conspiratorial wink.

“Why--” Eben started to ask, but then he realized and felt like an absolute blockhead for not seeing what everyone else easily could. “Because I’m Desidran.”

“In part,” she answered. “But you’re hardly the first chosen from another nation to be claimed by Neden. Why, there’s a Caasan boy in your cycle.”

Eben perked up. “There is?” he said, glancing around the balcony they stood on. “Did he just get here today?”

Dori was already shaking her head though.

“I hear that he got special dispensation to celebrate in his hometown instead of needing to come to the capital like everyone else. Apparently, there’s another chosen there, too, and the other chosen’s mother is the city’s sentinel.”

“Oh,” Eben said, his shoulders drooping a bit.

“There’s no need to worry though. You’ll meet him soon I’m sure, when you’re all at Kellingherth.”

Eben nodded. While cleaning and dressing him for the event, the servants had told him that he should be ready to leave by carriage just after breakfast the next day. Apparently, they weren’t wasting any time taking them to Kellingherth after the Festival.

“Everyone at House Filad and Ulis learn about you specifically though,” she said. “That’s why I knew who you were.”

“They do?” Eben said, unsure if he liked that idea. “Why?”

“Because you’re one of only the only chosen in the history of the nation of Neden to be raised by a group of people who were neither your relatives nor nobility.”

“I...am?” he said.

“Mhmm,” Dori said with a nod. “Normally, if a chosen child has no parents to care for them, they are adopted by one of the noble houses.”

“That’s nice,” he said. Dori gave him a slightly different smile than before, and Eben realized that she hadn’t been finished with her story. “Sorry!” he said. “It’s not the same talking to people with their mouths.” She looked at him even odder then. “I mean, not their hands. I mean--”

Dori laughed, and Eben stopped trying to explain, sighing in relief that she wasn’t mad.

“It is nice,” Dori finally agreed, “but it’s also selfish. The more chosen a house has, the more clout they gain. But after finding you on the doorstep of their church, the monks of Holice decided to adopt you. There were many overtures from various houses when word spread, some as recent as a few years ago, but the monks never budged in wanting to be your caretakers, despite some rather large sums rumored to be offered.”

Eben heard the words she was telling him, but it was as if they were coming from a far off place, like the music in the room or the light from the hovering chandeliers. When Donan had dropped him off and refused to stay, part of Eben had thought that the monks were glad to finally be rid of him. But if what Dori said was true, all this time they could have traded him away and even fixed up the old temple to boot...but hadn’t. For some reason a lump formed in Eben’s throat. It must have been a leftover nut from the chocolate.

“The monks never told you?” she asked gently.

“No,” he swallowed, fighting the lump. “They didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I hope I didn’t make you miss them more than you probably already do.”

Eben shook his head. “Thank you,” he said, suddenly feeling lighter than he had all day. “I prayed for peace, and you brought it to me.”

“I did?”

It was Eben’s turn to nod.

She looked down. “I’m glad,” she said. “I didn’t think it was fair for you to be all alone while so many others are with their family and friends.”

“Is your family here?” he asked.

“Mhmm,” Dori said, pointing to a group of people that were all wearing the same midnight blue and silver colors she was, who were being waited on. “Even my grandmother Keska is here, even though she’s normally with the queen as one of her guards.”

Eben’s eyes grew wide. “Really?”

Dori nodded. “She’s been a queensguard for longer than I’ve been alive.”

“Wow,” Eben said, looking at the old woman. She was bent by age, but looked to have sharp eyes, and like some of the other people he had seen tonight, she had a stone attached to the middle of her forehead. It was clear, but sparkled like a rainbow. A diamond he thought. “Where is the queen tonight?”

“I would guess she’s at House Arress. That’s where House Filad was invited to attend and the queen is originally from Filad. My friend Eleanor is a daughter of Filad too, so that’s where she is as well.”

“I’m sorry you don’t get to be with her,” Eben said, looking back at Dori.

“You’re sweet,” she said. “But it’s okay. We’ll be back together at Su’Sonith. Plus, I have other friends here, like Ness and even Zarla.”

“I shouldn’t be keeping you from them.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she said with a laugh. “I talk with them all the time. Besides, why should I have so many people to spend time with while you have none, especially when House Ulis is dedicated to helping chosen.”

“Oh,” he said, looking at his feet.

“And just because it’s my duty,” she said, leaning a bit closer, “it doesn’t mean I’m not having fun.”

He smiled at that. “Would you answer some of my other questions?”

“Of course!” she said, as enthusiastically as he would respond if someone offered him seconds of cake. He was glad though, because it made him feel like he could ask whatever he liked.

“That’s Lord Kale, right?” he said, pointing up the dias. He knew it had to be, what with the man sitting on the highest balcony and the biggest chair, but Eben wanted to be sure.

Dori didn’t make fun of the simple question at all. “Mhmm,” she said with a nod, “along with his new wife, Yurane Tissis.”

“Tissis,” he said. The name was one of the noble houses of course, but there was something else about it…”I met a Tissis!” Eben exclaimed. “When I first got here. Felipe!”

She nodded again. “He’s Yurane’s son from her first marriage, but he’s not chosen like us.”

Like us, Eben thought, allowing himself a small smile. Because we’re family. And the same was true of all the boys he had met last night. Maybe if he knew a bit more about them it would help.

“What happened to Lord Kale’s first wife?”

“Ilisa Balt? She died over a decade ago. With three sons, everyone thought that Lord Kale would remarry sooner rather than later, but it hasn’t even been a year yet since he wed Yurane.”

“Three?”

She nodded. “You saw the twins Derrick and Merrick, of course, but they’re older brother Arrick is also chosen.”

“Why are their names so similar? Are they triplets?”

“Their mother was by all accounts a sweet woman,” Dori said, clearly trying not to be rude, “but not the most inventive when it came to names.” She spread her hands. “At least she went alphabetically.”

Eben giggled a bit, but then he felt bad. She was dead after all. “Who’s she,” he asked, pointing to a girl who looked a few years older than them who sat on the same side as the Kale boys.

“That’s Arrick’s wife Henrita of Jetir, and while they did a wonderful job with her dress, everyone knows she’s pregnant.”

“Everyone?” Eben asked.

She gave him a wink. “Everyone who pays attention.”

“Is there anything you don’t know?”

“You make it sound more impressive than it is,” Dori answered with a smile. “Do you know all of the monks in your monastery by name?”

“Of course,” he said.

“It’s the same here,” she said with a shrug. “It becomes our world, and you can’t help but to notice.”

“So every noble knows as much as you do about each other?”

“Well,” she said, tilting her head at him, and giving her biggest grin of the night, “I wouldn’t say that necessarily. I do have a bit of a knack for it.”

A huge whoosh whipped through the room, stopping their conversations and everyone else's it seemed. Eben looked up in time to see all of the flame chandeliers spinning upward and then pull together into the center of the ceiling. As they merged, they brightened in intensity until it seemed like the sun hung directly overhead, and then, just as quickly as the burning shape had formed, it vanished in a sharp flash, leaving a sharp afterimage in Eben’s vision.

Was all that fire all one elemental? he wondered. But it was huge!

Eben looked down at the lower level, searching for someone with a ruby. While there was still plenty of light to see by in the grand hall, due to many hearthfires and sconces on walls and support pillars, Eben couldn’t see them. He did however notice that Lord Kale had stood up from his seat.

“You’ll have to excuse the dramatics,” the man said, his voice somehow easily carrying throughout the overlarge room, a wide smile cutting through his beard, “but the time for the rebirth has come.”

“Do you think wind whisperers are helping--” Eben started to ask and then nearly bit his tongue off when the floor beneath him began to move. Dori made a similarly surprised noise, wobbling before catching herself as she drifted along beside him despite her slippered feet staying put.

Looking around, Eben quickly spotted the earth elementalist he had seen before. The woman with a sparkling green gem in her brow was keeping pace with them as they slid past the families of the chosen.

Eben saw that the moving stone was even able to shuttle the big boy Brekks, and across the room the three sons of Kale. All of them being carried down the steps of the nearest stairwell on individual platforms of stone to the lower floor.

While he descended, Eben’s eyes were drawn in the opposite direction, up to the ceiling. The burst of fire seemed to have not only gotten rid of all of the flame chandeliers but also the clouds and snow. All that was left now were shadowed recesses, much of it hid in darkness. The whole room felt heavier now, more ominous. Especially with so very many people around, all of them speaking only in a whisper, their eyes on him and the other chosen. He supposed that was the point, but he didn’t much care for it.

As they reached the fountain in the middle of the room, which was the lowest point in the chamber, the moving stones they all rode upon came to a stop. Many took a step or two away from the now still flagstones, Eben included, not wanting to be caught unaware again, though he supposed the elementalist could likely make any stone they wished move. There were no assigned spaces, so some of the young chosen ended up closer together than others, but even so, the ten of them managed to wrap all the way around the fountain.

The large base was taller than Eben’s knees, and with the two adult chosen who had sapphires gone, it was strange to see the water so flat after the shifting statues it had formed.

A man with a shaved head and a red robe that left his arms bare walked down a side stairwell and toward the fountain. At first Eben was surprised to see him, because he was at least a decade too old to be part of their cycle, but then he noticed the long, thin vial that the man carried in one hand. The poison. Upon reaching the edge of the fountain, he unstoppered the tube and poured it slowly into the water below, circling the fountain, until he had gone the entire way around just as the last drop had fallen.

Eben wasn’t sure why, but he found it very eerie that the poison was clear, the same as the water. For some reason he thought it would be better if it was bright green, or the like, as that way he could easily see where it was and how much he would be drinking.

Trying to distract himself, Eben looked at the surrounding people and noticed that, oddly enough, some of those gathered in noble colors were looking at the man in red with no sleeves with hostility or even fear in a few cases. If Eben’s tummy hadn’t been aflutter with nerves of his own he might have questioned it further, but instead he was distracted by a voice off to the side.

“Don’t worry,” Dori whispered to him from where she stood not too far off around the side of the fountain. “Derrick promised me last night that it would taste like blueberries.”

Eben nodded to her and smiled, trying to look brave. He saw the bald man turn up to Lord Kale, who gestured wide with his hands.

“Please, children, partake in the water before you.”

Some of the girls sat on the edge of the fountain, bringing a cupped hand of liquid to their mouths, while most of the boys leaned over the base, using two hands to scoop up a drink. The big boy Brekks, used his huge hands to do exactly this, not once but twice, letting the extra water fall down his chin.

Eben gulped as he watched. Was Lord Kale letting them decide how much poison to drink on purpose? And if so, did it matter that some were doing more than others?

Looking around, Eben saw that almost everyone had had at least one drink already, which meant he couldn’t wait any longer. He dipped both of his hands into the cool water, expecting the poison to maybe burn his skin, but to his relief it felt no different than the well water out the back of the temple in Holice. Eben filled his cupped palms halfway--which to him was more than enough--and brought it to his lips. He hesitated, feeling the water start to dribble away between his fingers, so he took a shaky breath, opened his mouth, and gulped it down.

It was cool and did actually taste a bit like blueberries, but as soon as it was done, he shook his hands out, wiping them on the front of the fine clothes the servants had given him, untinking, while he waited for something to happen. Eben saw other chosen doing the same--like they were all trying not to sneeze--and the waiting crowds were watching just as closely. One of the twins across the way brought a hand to his stomach and grimaced a bit, but that was all. Then one of the girls cried out. Eben spun to face her, thinking she was in pain, but no sooner had he turned then he saw that she had her right arm lifted, face victorious. Eben could quickly tell why: on the flesh of her palm there was a mark, just like the one that was on the sole of his foot.

She had birthed a new gate.

Cheers erupted from around, and grew louder when Brekks pulled his shirt down, revealing a mark at his neck. The huge boy beat one fist against his chest and joined his voice with the rest.

It was then that Eben felt his stomach flip, like he had eaten old eggs. The pressure built in his stomach, and he had to put a hand on the fountain edge to brace himself. And then he farted, the sound squeaking out, and the force pushing down on his abdomen suddenly went away. Quick as he could, he stood up straight and looked around, but luckily with all the noise, no one seemed to have noticed.

None of the other chosen appeared to be gaining any more gates, but the crowd continued to yell unabated. In fact, it seemed to Eben that nothing could stop the swelling voices, but then Dayle collapsed where stood. The ring of onlookers around the fountain fell into an immediate hush, the silence sweeping outward through the massive room, replaced only with the sound of Dayle retching. The skinner’s son was vomiting, and it wasn’t just yellow bile--Eben saw spots of red in it. Dayle heaved again, and more blood splattered the stone floor.

Eben was horrified, and he stood stock still, not knowing what to do.

“My son!” a man said, rushing down the stairwell from the chosen balcony, quickly followed by a woman, both kneeling beside Dayle who was now on all fours, making horrid noises.

“Sulan!” the Lord of House Kale shouted.

Eben had no idea who or what the Lord was calling out for, but the bald headed man from before, who had stayed beside the fountain, immediately moved to Dayle’s side.

“Back!” Sulan barked. His firm tone cut through the parents' hysterics long enough for him to get between them, and he wasted no time ripping the clothes covering Dayles stomach away. In fact, the man tore through the fabric so easily and cleanly, Eben wondered if he wasn’t chosen himself. Sulan stared for a moment at the exposed stomach and then placed the tips of his fingers on top of the rolling skin. Then, the man pushed them inside Dayle.

Eben nearly threw up, and both the father and mother screamed, but by this point guards in purple and black had arrived, and they held the parents back so Sulan could continue his gruesome work, his hand now up to the wrist.

Someone with a soulstone that gave strength could push into someone’s body like that, but there was no blood, which meant…

“He’s het,” Eben said in utter disbelief, fighting to keep his own stomach under control.

“Awakened. Yes.” He heard someone say beside him.

Eben hadn’t expected anyone to answer him and with great effort, he managed to tear his eyes away from the scene to see who it was. It was one of the boy chosen he hadn’t met the other night, a noble wearing red and silver, standing arrow straight.

“But how can that be?” Eben said. “I thought they were all dead or driven off centuries ago.”

“So did we,” Dori said from his other side, seeming to have found her voice though she looked just as much in shock and sickened as Eben felt. “But he appeared in House Kale’s court just over a year ago, without explanation, and has been serving Lord Kale ever since.”

“I’ve seen him work before,” the noble boy said. “He’s this lad’s best hope.”

Eben turned back, seeing that the awakened, Sulan was slowly pulling his hand out of Dayle’s stomach. The skinner’s son appeared to be barely conscious at this point, shifting and groaning slightly, which Eben guessed was probably for the best. As Sulan’s hand came further out of Dayle, Eben noticed that there was something coating it. Not blood, like he would have expected, but instead a clear liquid, like, like the poisoned water they had all drank.

Sulan finished pulling his hand from Dayle, fingers and all, and then he turned to the side and flicked, the poisoned water sloughing off his skin and splattering on the stone floor.

Dori gasped beside Eben, and he was about to ask why, when he followed her eyes and saw that Dayle’s stomach had no wound or mark maring the flesh, as if only seconds ago a man’s hand hadn’t been inside him. But that’s where Eben was wrong, wasn’t he? An awakened wasn’t really a man at all. They had created the chosen and the soulstones and even the feral, before eventually being overthrown If this awakened, wanted to stick his hand in Dayle’s stomach, get the poison to attach to it, pull it out, and leave not a mark in the trade, apparently he could do just that.

Sulan stood, motioning to the nearby guards, who released the parents and picked Dayle up. With Sulan in the lead, they marched the boy away on their shoulders, the dumbstruck mother and father following silently in their wake.

“Was he--?” Dori started.

“He was breathing,” the noble boy in red said in answer. “He was lucky.”

“But doesn’t this mean he failed?” Eben asked. Last night he had been hurt by how Dayle had treated him, but if Dayle didn’t come to Kellingherth, Eben wouldn’t get a chance to forgive him.

The noble shook his head. “The point of the poison test is to gain new gates. Though his reaction means that he can’t have an overly strong soulstone in the gate he does have, he most certainly can still have one. As soon as he can stand, he’ll be at Kellingherth. I’m sure my father will see to it.”

With that, the stiff boy dipped his head slightly to Dori and then surprisingly to Eben as well before departing, heading toward a group of other nobles wearing red and silver who stood nearby.

“Well, that’s good at least,” Eben said to Dori.

“It is,” she agreed, seeming to breathe out the tension for both of them. “I should congratulate my friend on her new gate. But I hear that, once a year, Kellingherth and Su’Sonith host gatherings for students who are in the same cycle. Perhaps we could speak again then?”

“I’d like that,” Eben said, brightening. He wasn’t quite as comfortable around her yet as he was with the monks, but he could tell that it was only a matter of time.

“Wonderful.” So saying, she leaned forward, pecking him on the cheek. The move was so sudden and unexpected, he froze. Dori just smiled though, before spinning away and walking over to the noble girl who had birthed another mark.

A year, Eben thought, watching her go, his hand drifting up to touch his cheek. I can wait a year to talk to my new sister again.

After all, he had waited fifteen years to get here, and by Silver, it had been worth every minute.