Vibrant cherry blossom trees sway in the wind. Warm afternoon sunlight cast shadows across Leonore's cobblestone streets. Golden, marble, and granite statues depict previous PRIME's from Leonore that stretch down Main Street. Business was flourishing as market vendors sold high-end furniture, art, and designer outfits. The ENGINE slumbered over the city, unbothered by the trivialities of mortal life and their worship.
"Excuse me, chosen. Can I take a moment of your time?" A female merchant asked as Emily and Elijah approached.
Emily glanced up at the merchant and then at the designer clothing on display. She glanced at the intricate sewing and craftsmanship in each of the outfits. A soft smile stretched across her face as her eyes glanced at a dressed speckled in stars. She rubbed her neck as a thousand-yard stare formed on her face once more. Mind drifting between daydreaming and nihilism.
"Chosen, what are you wearing!? You can't go around looking like that... this outfit... if I can call it that, is not befitting for someone like yourself," the merchant said, wide-eyed as she stared at Emily's tattered clothes.
"Your outfits are beautiful, but I don't have any money," Emily replied.
"Don't worry, I will pay," Elijah replied as he flicked his cigarette to the ground and dug into his pants pocket for his wallet.
"Pay? Chosen do not need to pay. It would be my honor to tailor-make your outfits for the pilgrimage," the merchant replied with a smile.
"You sure?"
The merchant nodded her head. "To have my outfits worn by the chosen would be an advertisement for me. Also, if you become Prime," she explained as she gestured towards the statues lining the road. "My outfit that I craft for you would serve as a reference for the sculpture of your image.
"Do you have anything I don't know... less dressy?" Emily mumbled as she fixated on the star-speckled dress. "From what I learned growing up. The pilgrimage isn't a runway show."
"You're right, and don't worry about that. This is for regular citizens. I am more than capable of designing outfits for a more practical purpose," the merchant explained as she noticed Emily gazing at her tailored made hoodies. "So what say you two?"
Elijah shrugged, then glanced at Emily. "Your call, kid...you need a new outfit, anyway."
Emily chuckled, then rubbed her arm. "I guess you have a point there."
The merchant clapped her hands as a smile formed on her face. She then reached under the table and retrieved some clothes. "Here, take these in the meantime. It will take me until tomorrow to get both your outfits ready."
"Don't worry about me, just make something for her," Elijah replied.
"Are you certain?"
Elijah nodded. "Nothing against your craftsmanship. I got a tailor already."
"Oh, where are you from?"
Elijah lit another cigarette. "Tyrial, born and raised. Came to Leonore for business, and I guess business found me," he chuckled as he pointed at his grey mask.
"Guess you had no interest in divinity?"
Elijah shook his head. "No, and especially not when the other option is being six feet under."
"I wish I could take your position. But alas, the ENGINE saw something in you more so than I."
"Why would you aspire to be chosen?" Emily asked.
"I imagine myself as a successful PRIME. Not a single person wearing atrocious outfits on my watch," she chuckled.
Emily glanced up at Elijah, then accepted the clothes. "Could I make one small request?"
"Of course... It's about that dress, right?" The merchant replied.
Emily nodded. "I like it...don't know why though."
The merchant smirked. "Not to worry, I will make sure your outfit will have the stars sewn in with each stitch."
Emily smiled, but her thousand-yard stare returned as the merchant's response echoed in her ears. "Thread and needle, Thread, and needle," she whispered to herself.
"Hey, kid," Elijah said, then snapped his fingers. "Hey, kid... back to earth!"
Emily blinked, then gazed up at Elijah with wide eyes. "Sorry, started daydreaming lyrics. Weird habit of mine," Emily muttered, forcing a smile on her face.
"You are a musician?" The merchant asked.
Emily shrugged. "It's just poetry … stuff I scribble in my diary."
"She is full of shit," Elijah chuckled.
The merchant laughed. "Selling yourself short?"
Emily did not reply, rubbing her neck while avoiding the merchant's gaze.
"Alright, we need to find a place where you can clean up," Elijah interjected, breaking the silence.
The merchant pointed across the street to a building. "I have a friend there who teaches fencing. Tell her that Ashley sent you, and she will let our young chosen freshen up."
"Appreciate that," he replied with a smile as he smoked. "Come on, kid, let's get you out of that. Can't have you winning the pilgrimage because of your hygiene."
"Fuck you," Emily grumbled.
Elijah chuckled as they walked. "You didn't like that? I thought it was funny."
"I am throwing your cigarettes in the garbage the first chance I get."
Baroque tunes echoed as Emily followed Elijah into the building. Silver and gold adorned the paintings on the wall. Trophies aligned the hallway as her weathered shoes stepped on pristine marble floors. She glanced inside a training room, watching two people fence in protective outfits.
"Hello, Ashley sent us. Do you think this one can freshen up here?" Elijah asked the receptionist, then gestured at Emily standing next to him.
"Of course, the bathroom is just down that hallway. Also, feel free to join any of our fencing lessons for free. It's on the house," the receptionist explained with a smile as she looked at their masks on their faces.
"You don't gotta do any of this, sourpuss? Still don't know why you're trying to help me when we're supposed to be killing each other in a couple days," Emily asked as she followed Elijah down the hallway.
"That's then, this is now, and believe it or not, maybe I don't care about winning," Elijah replied as he shrugged and lit another cigarette.
"You ain't scared to die?"
"Not really, we die many times in our lives before we actually kick the bucket."
"Don't you have family?"
Elijah rolled his eyes as he leaned on the front entrance to the bathroom. "Did."
Emily's eyes lowered, then she glanced up at Elijah. "Oh."
"Made peace with it years back. Now get cleaned up...you smell like shit," Elijah grumbled as he exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke.
Emily sighed and then stepped into the locker room. She dug into her pocket and put her notebook on the locker bench before hopping into the shower. Her fingers pruned as she stood with a trance-like stare, as water trickled down her skin. Teal highlights showed more vividly as the dirt dripped down, swirling into the filthy water surrounding Emily's feet. She rubbed her hands through her hair as a fog of steam spilled into the locker room.
I wake up where the city numbs,
Empty stomach, hunger drums.
Thread and needle in merchant's hands,
She promises what I can't understand.
Emily sang as her eyes stared down at the water swirling. She turned off the shower and dried her hair in the mirror. Her reflection gazed back at her with an unsettling grin while she scribbled in her notebook. She did not notice that her reflection had glowing mulberry and solar orange eyes while wearing an oversized black star-speckled hoodie.
My reflection fades; I'm barely there,
Eyes like hunger, tangled hair.
Every person shows what I could be.
But they will never notice me.
Emily frowned as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her reflection stared back with the same frown and melancholic disposition as she got dressed. She quickly scribbled some more lyrics in her notebook while her reflection tilted its head at her before Emily left the bathroom.
"Well, at least you don't smell like trash," Elijah jested as he looked at Emily in clean black clothes.
"Fuck you, sourpuss," Emily scowled.
"Hey, hope you don't mind, but I signed you up for a fencing lesson."
Emily closed her eyes, then sighed. "What are you, my dad?"
"No, but given you're about to be fighting for your life in a week, I figure you should at least know how to defend yourself."
"I can take care of myself."
"Then show me."
"You don't believe me?"
"Just take the damn class; this is different from playing a damn cello."
Emily let out an exasperated groan. "Fine...fine, whatever. I will take this stupid fencing class."
Sweat, perfume, metal, and leather hit Emily's nose as she followed Elijah inside a training room. Baroque music played in the background as training swords clashed, overloading Emily's senses. Her eyes lingered on the two sparrers, their faces hidden behind a fencing mask. She examined their footwork as they shuffled back and forth.
"Set-match. Point to Rachel," the referee announced as the sparrers bowed and took off their fencing masks.
Emily's eyes widened as she stared at the female with strawberry blonde hair. Warm honey blonde highlights in her hair contrasted with the black mask on the right side of her face. Her chestnut eyes glanced over at Emily. Sweat dripped from her sun-touched, rosy skin.
"Another chosen?" The girl asked with a raised eyebrow as she took off her gloves, a smile spreading across her face. "Finally, some competition."
Emily smiled as her heart raced. She averted her gaze, staring wide-eyed at the mat.
"I am Rachel from the Empire of Augustine. And you are chosen?"
"I ummm... Emily from Leonore?"
Rachel smiled, then glanced up at Elijah, noticing his gray mask. "Oh, two chosen. Are you family?"
Elijah shook his head. "Nope, just met her today. What's a noble from the empire doing in Leonore on Prime Day?"
Rachel chuckled. "The empire goes wherever she pleases. After all, we birthed the most PRIME's, and I will be the next."
"Takes more than confidence to be the next PRIME," Elijah replied as he crossed his arms.
Rachel nodded, then looked at Emily, then back at Elijah. "Care for a friendly match?"
Elijah chuckled. "Sorry, kid, I won't be your ego boost today."
Rachel laughed, then looked at Emily. "What say you, Emily of Leonore?"
"I never fenced," Emily replied.
"The other chosen won't care about that when they put a sword through your gut."
Emily's eyes widened as she looked into Rachel's eyes. Both of them refused to break eye contact.
Elijah rubbed his neck and then lit another cigarette. "You're not wrong about that."
"She didn't have to say it like that," Emily said with narrowed eyes.
"Truth hurts. The ENGINE chose you both, but all I see are cowards."
Emily's nostrils flared as she grabbed a fencing sword.
"Hey kid, hold up," Elijah shouted, but Emily ignored him.
"Relax, this is a spar. I aint going to hurt her, and the ENGINE won't intervene either," Rachel explained as she grinned at Emily. "No gear?" Rachel asked as she noticed Emily approaching her without putting on the protective suit.
Emily didn't reply, just staring into Rachel's eyes without putting up her sword. Rachel's eyebrow raised as she waited for Emily to assume a fighting position, but it never came. Rachel's grip on her rapier tightened, then she lunged at Emily in one swift, precise movement. Emily dodged it without lifting a finger.
"The fuck?" Elijah whispered to himself as he watched—his facial expression matching Rachel's confusion.
"Sharp instincts, Emily, of Leonore. You might be a natural at this," Rachel said as she fixed her posture and readied her weapon once more.
She then lunged once more, feinting her attack, which caused Emily to block with her rapier. Rachel followed up with a swift assault, which Emily dodged and blocked.
"You're a cheeky one. Pretending you never fenced before to make me underestimate you," Rachel smirked as she parried Emily's attack, then tapped her Rapier on Emily's shoulder.
"Point, Rachel of Augustine," the referee declared as Rachel stepped back.
"Not bad… good match," Rachel said as she sheathed her Rapier.
"I seriously never fenced before," Emily replied as she smiled, rubbing her shoulder where Rachel's rapier had landed.
"Well, you're a freaking natural, Emily of Leonore," Rachel replied as she stretched out her hand.
Emily looked down at her hand and then looked into Rachel's eyes, shaking her hand with a smile.
"We must do this again before we have to get serious," Rachel insisted.
Emily smiled; her heart fluttered as her cheeks flushed.
Elijah watched on with narrowed eyebrows. He lit another cigarette as Emily and Rachel conversed. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was something off about Emily.