🧑‍🏫 The Calling

On the fourth full moon of the year, at sunset, every seventeen-year-old in Ves gathered at the cemetery. This year, only Iniza, Shae, and Eden stood in long, yellow robes waiting for Ancestors to beckon them. 

Iniza shifted from foot to foot. The wet grass seemed to soak through her bare feet, sending waves of cold up her calves. The light wind blew a bit of dark hair into her eyes. She tucked it behind her ear and looked at her friends. 

“I hope they take me to Smith’s stone,” Shae, Iniza’s best friend, said. “In the morning, this will be orange!” He raised the sides of his robe to indicate what he meant. His muscular frame pressed against the fabric as if to concur.  

On the other side of him, Eden, red hair drawn into a bun so tight it looked painful, stared into the darkness. “I will be led to Cleric’s stone,” she said. “A scarlet robe for me.” 

Iniza smiled awkwardly. Shae had wanted to be a smith for as long as she could remember. She’d even helped him learn the trade, spending hours in the library finding books on everything from building your own forge to cooling techniques. 

Eden had spent every spare moment at Temple since second grade. Iniza had told the teacher she should be line leader even though it wasn’t her turn because she’d been sick on her day. Eden would hear nothing of it. Rules were rules. Iniza had stuck out her tongue and said, “You and the clerics are such rule-mongers!”

“What about you, Iniza? Are you excited to finally know who you are?” Shae asked, worry shifting his voice half an octave higher than usual. 

Iniza had never known which of the many gravestones she wanted to be led to. She loved learning about everything. On one hand, she was relieved Ancestors would choose for her. But her biggest fear was that in the morning her gown would still be pale yellow, and she would be exiled for lack of having a purpose. No contact with the people she loved for the rest of her life. Nobody even knew what lay beyond the border. She blinked to keep tears back.

“I’ll be content with whatever Ancestors decide for me,” she lied. 

She wanted it to be true. It’s what her parents kept telling her when she asked which stone they thought she’d be led to. “Ancestors show truth,” they’d say. 

Shae put his hand in hers and squeezed. “You won’t be exiled,” he said. “That’s only happened what…twice? Three times? Everyone has a purpose.”

“Not everyone,” Eden intoned, staring ahead as if she could see anything but shadows. 

Shae smacked her arm with the back of his hand. “Eden!”

She continued as if nothing had happened. “At Temple, the scroll documenting those for whom Ancestors shared no vocation holds seven times seventy names.” 

Iniza swallowed painfully around the lump in her throat. “Seven times seventy? Broken stones!”

“Don’t listen to her,” Shae said, squeezing her hand again. 

Eden raised one arm slowly and pointed. “They come.”

“So dramatic,” Shae mocked.

Two glowing figures stood on the knoll above. They descended, the grass undisturbed by their feet. Only two. 

Iniza swallowed again. As they drew closer, Iniza examined them. Their gowns shifted through the colors of the rainbow in various shades. For some reason, this unsettled her even more. “Is it always just two, Eden?” 

“Have you already forgotten the Oath of Preparation?” Eden asked. 

Iniza squeezed her free palm against the bandage from the morning’s preparation ritual, recalling words spoken in darkness. I swear to never speak nor write of anything that occurs tonight, nor to listen to nor to read another’s account of the same. This oath I seal with the blood of my ancestors. “No,” she said.

“Then how would I know?” 

Embarrassed, Iniza looked at her feet until Ancestors’ glow stretched across her toes. She looked up.

Ancestors’ faces were just smooth, rounded spaces of flesh surrounded by hair unmoved by the breeze. No eyes, no mouths. They pointed in unison, first at Shae, then at Eden, and finally at Iniza. Ancestors gestured for them to follow and turned into the cemetery.

The three friends looked at one another. Even Eden’s expression bore marks of uncertainty.

Iniza took a deep breath and began walking. She tugged at Shae’s hand until he moved with her. Eden’s robes swished softly behind them. 

No one spoke as they strolled past headstone after headstone. A tall stone with a hammer engraved near the top came into view. 

Still entwined with hers, Shae’s fingers trembled. “I knew it!” he said excitedly.  

And then they walked past it. 

They stopped at a slightly larger headstone bearing the word “Mason.” Ancestors pointed at Shae and then at the stone.

Iniza squeezed Shae’s hand as it slackened in hers. 

“But,” Shae said, “I’ve spent my whole life preparing to be a smith.”

Eden huffed. “Ves doesn’t need another smith, but we do need masons. Ancestors show truth.” 

Shae dropped Iniza’s hand. “I guess,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

Ancestors glided northward. Eden pushed between Iniza and Shae to follow them. Iniza gently took Shae’s elbow and guided him along. “Masonry isn’t that much different from smithing,” she said, trying to be helpful. 

He didn’t respond.

She started to explain transferrable skill, but she nearly stumbled into Eden as Ancestors stopped. 

“No,” Eden whined, “No, this can’t be right.”

Stepping around her, Iniza saw a headstone sculpted into the shape of a curtain above a stage. In its center, a thespian mask shimmered gold. 

Ancestors pointed to the stone. They pointed at Eden. 

Eden dropped to her knees and sobbed. 

Shae laughed half-heartedly. “I guess Ves doesn’t need another cleric.”

“Shae, come on,” Iniza said. “It’s not Eden’s fault they took you to Mason’s stone. She’s disappointed, too.”

“Easy for you to say. You haven’t prepared at all, so you can’t be disappointed!” he jeered. 

Tears brimmed at the edges of her eyes and she balled her fists at her sides. “I helped you prepare, though,” she said. 

Ancestors strolled away in their color-shifting robes. 

“Come on. We have to finish,” she said as she started after them. 

“I’d rather be exiled,” Shae muttered. 

His words cut, but she didn’t stop to see whether he or Eden followed. What happened to them seemed unfair, but an answer she’d waited for most of her life lay ahead. 

Ancestors stopped before a three-by-three square stone laying in the ground. 

Iniza drew a slow breath and read aloud, “Unknown.” 

Both Eden and Shae gasped.

Dread squeezed her heart like a vice. She whipped around to face Ancestors. “Does this mean I’m exiled?” 

They glided down the north side of the knoll.

“Wait! You can’t just leave,” she shouted, following.

Ancestors moved one to either side of a translucent veil shifting color in time with their robes. They pointed at Eden, at Shae, and finally, at Iniza. Then they pointed to the veil.

Iniza looked at it. Her mind swirled to make sense of what was happening. She examined her friends. A slow epiphany woke. “Your robes are still yellow.”

They looked at their clothes and shared a confused glance. “What do you think it means?” Eden asked.

“I think we can choose,” Iniza said, pointing at the color-shifting veil. 

“What they suggested or what we want.”

The colors shimmered. Eden stepped forward. 

Shae put his hand on her shoulder, pulling her back. “But Eden,” he said, “that isn’t what they wanted. What if everyone knows?”

Iniza recited, “I swear to never speak nor write of anything that occurs tonight, nor to listen to nor to read another’s account of the same. This oath I seal with the blood of my ancestors.”

Eden waited for the colors to rotate and stepped under the red glow. When she stepped out in her scarlet robe, every trace of her earlier tears had vanished.

Shae watched the colors for a long time. He sighed. “They’re right,” he said. “Ves does need more masons.”

“Your skills will be useful,” Iniza replied softly. 

Shae nodded and stepped under a shimmer of grayish-brown.

“What about you?” he asked.

Iniza considered her years of fear and uncertainty. She’d never wanted others to feel that. “I will guide the young,” she said. 

Shae and Eden smiled. Both had experienced her skill in this regard. 

Iniza stepped into sky blue. Magic adhered to her skin like dew on grass. Her robe glimmered, grew frigid for a split second, and turned blue. She stepped out.

The trio walked home through quiet streets. 

Eden stopped suddenly. “How do people get exiled, then?”

Iniza pondered for a moment. “I guess they choose it,” she said, wondering whether choices were permanent. She looked down at her robe and thought someday she would learn.

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