A Scroll of Fate

“Besides green forests, Lade has red hills, orange and yellow plains, and many different colored areas. The science behind why this is remains to be explained. As a scholar myself, I believe it has something to do with the three suns.”

—Robin Benz

From that day onward, my mom made a deal with me.

“Every month, I want you to learn one new thing. It can be crocheting, a language, or something else entirely, but it has to be something you can learn for a month.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“Because I can’t bear watching you shut off the world and its opportunities. It makes me sad.”

“That’s too difficult.”

“How about one of us in the family learns it with you? Here, I’ll go get the water colors and we’ll watch a video on how to use them properly.”

This tradition kept despair at arms length for many years. As I grew up, I became a master in all sorts of things, from blackjack to watercolors. If something in the house broke, oftentimes I would be the one to fix it alongside my father. Those days were the brightest in my school-deprived childhood.

* * *

“Brother, are you okay?”

Mirei’s worried voice makes me pause my thoughts and raise my head. She sees my ashamed expression and frowns. I open my mouth, but no words come out at first. Then, I mumble, “Mom is gonna kill me.”

“Huh? What for?”

The deal was, of course, very casual. There was no punishment for not keeping up with it. But I always knew deep in my heart that it meant something important, something like a promise. A promise to always look forward and not wallow in the crap life has thrown my way.

I’m ashamed because, as much as I hate to admit that Roo was right, I’ve been letting my fear dictate everything I do. I refused to be honest with myself as a result and nearly pushed Roo away. My plan to take Mirei and run away dissolves like a dying star, leaving behind an explosion of relief.

It feels like my rebellious brain and my heart are finally in sync for a second.

Chief Pons, noticing my change in demeanor, says, “Shall we make our way to the dining hall?”

The worry from Mirei’s face vanishes as excitement makes her eyes light up. She prattles on and on about how amazing the pudding is on our way to the dining hall. For some reason, she’s developed this talent of describing food in such a mouth-watering way. Mirei makes pudding seem like sugary clouds that you can only experience once in your life. By the time we enter a vast hall decorated in chandeliers and garnished with leafy vines, my stomach is rumbling incessantly.

Curtains of the fish head insignia hang from tall walls and sconces flicker with magic light in between them. A beautifully crafted dining table sits at the center of the hall. There are six intricately designed chairs that surround the table. A white table cloth cascades over its circular edges, held in place by plates, cutlery, and glass vase of exotic flowers. The delicate crimson petals pop out from pink plant stems and leaves. I am reminded of the red soil and shrubbery that surrounded Mirei and I back when we first got teleported to this world.

“Where did you get this plant?” I ask Chief Pons, who strolls forward toward the table at the center of the hall. He picks up one of the champagne glasses, which are all painted with glamorous renditions of water lilies, and sips a bit of the water.

He swishes the water in the cup as he stares at the plant. “In the Rolling Red Hills. They’re nearby where you first showed up. This specific type of flower is called a Blood Fieldcrest.”

Mirei shoots toward the table and leans over it, eying the flowers closely. “Blood? Do they use blood to grow?”

The Chief lets out a hearty laugh before replying, “No, nothing of the sort. Some dud of a man put blood in the name because he was a serial killer and enjoyed the color of blood. When he happened upon the flowers in the Rolling Red Hills, he got so excited that he brought a bouquet back to his hometown and shoved them in corpses’ mouths.”

Mirei and I fall silent at this. We all sit down at the table in awkward silence while the Chief wears a contented smile. Why in the world would such a gruesome plant be used at a dinner table?!

Roo appears, thank God, and sits at the table. He sighs loudly before exclaiming, “I’m famished!”

Before long, the posse of chefs carry in five trays of glistening meats, fruits, and desserts. I grip my chopsticks and knife, excitement growing in me. Roo sniggers at my enthusiasm, so I shoot him an accusatory glare. Once the food is served, we eat with gusto.

* * *

The days pass in a blur, sometimes joyful and sometimes anxious, as we wait for the call to court. Three days later, Roo finds us in the dining hall for breakfast, holding a scroll wrapped in green ribbons.

“This is from the court!” He explains, breathless. Me, Mirei, and Chief Pons all stand up in a flurry, chairs screeching against the jade floors. We crowd around him as he unfurls the scroll to reveal three lines of script:

__________________

The next court date for the trial Outlanders v. Chekagi Tree will be one day after this scroll is delivered to your residence. Come to the Forre Courthouse for the trial’s commencement at the suns’ highest point.

Best regards, Head Adjudicator Ohma Kilson

__________________

Roo, Mirei, and I make eye contact. Tomorrow at noon our fate will be altered forever.