The Southern markets always vibrant.
Ava wove through the afternoon crowd, her work apron still dusted with flour from Master Hank's bakery, and also somehow covered in jam, though she had no memory of touching jam today. Six hours of kneading dough and boxing pastries had left her arms aching, her honey-brown hair escaping its scrunchie in wild waves around her face, and a mysterious bruise on her shin from walking into the counter. Again.
She caught her reflection in a shop window as she passed, her fair skin flushed from the heat, those carefully maintained blue contact lenses making her look like any other Southern girl. Pretty enough, she supposed, though the flour dusting her cheekbone and the smudge of what might be raspberry jam on her chin weren't doing her any favors.
At least she had coin in her pocket. Enough for this week's groceries and maybe the medicine Aunt Lisa needed.
Their cottage sat at the edge of town, small and weathered but home. Aunt Lisa's garden was thriving despite her illness, probably because plants didn't require the same steady hands that healing magic did.
"Aunt Lisa?" Ava pushed through the front door, immediately tripping over the threshold she'd lived with for ten years. She caught herself on the doorframe. Barely. "I'm home! And I didn't break anything at work today!"
"That's a first," Aunt Lisa called from the kitchen, her voice warm with affection. Ava only started working 4 weeks ago and it's been a disaster for clumsy her. "Though the week's not over yet."
Ava found her aunt sitting by the window, a blanket around her shoulders despite the warmth. She looked tired, but she smiled when Ava dropped a kiss on her cheek.
"How are you feeling?" Ava asked, settling onto the floor beside her chair.
"Better now that you're here and getting better at your new job." Lisa ran her fingers through Ava's messy hair, picking out what appeared to be a piece of dough. "One of these days, Master Hank is going to ask how you manage to injure yourself just making bread."
"It's a gift." Ava grinned. "A terrible gift." she laughed
"Speaking of gifts..." Lisa's expression turned serious. "Your lenses. Any flickering today?"
Ava's smile faded. Right. The lenses. The reason she could have a normal life instead of being hunted as an abomination. Made by her mother and grandpa, as if she knew she'd be abnormal.
"Maybe a little? Master Hank's nephew was being a jerk about my family... well, lack of family... and I got annoyed, but..."
"Ava."
"I controlled it! I just… mentally calculated how much I wanted to dump flour on his head. Then I didn't do it. See!"
Lisa didn't look amused. "Strong emotions destabilize the enchantment. You know this. One slip, and everything your mother died protecting—"
"I know. I've been wearing them for fourteen years. I know how to be careful."
"Not when you're pissed."
Ava sighed heavily, getting up. "Can I go meet Jennifer?"
"Fine. But be back before sunset. And Ava?" Lisa caught her hand. "Be careful. Please."
"Always am!" Ava called, already halfway out the door.
—
Alone on the dusty path to town, the familiar weight settled over Ava's shoulders.
Anger, her aunt called it. Just anger issues. Totally normal for a seventeen-year-old girl with a sick guardian, no parents, outcast status, and a life built on lies.
Totally normal.
Her mother had died while giving birth to her. Her father, nowhere to be found. She'd left the northern mountains at age three to live like a normal South Avalonian through the lenses her parents had somehow made before she was born, as if knowing she would have dual-colored eyes. Red and blue. Flame and Life. North and South.
An abomination, by every law of Avalon.
But no one knew she'd be powerless. Not the northern fire and soul forging nor even the southern water manipulation. There was no hope for this girl. She knew it, and she kept learning to live with it.
Growing up, while her friends showed off their water-bending and healing abilities, Ava had nothing. Just a clumsy girl with a temper and eyes that had to stay hidden.
Her aunt had sat her down at seven and explained what she was, why she was different, why she could never, ever let anyone see her real eyes. But it seemed she was different in the worst way; she was forbidden, same as her nation was in exile. Other nations feared the power of Northerners so much they kept them suppressed, isolated, punished.
"I know this isn't fair. I know you didn't choose this life. But it's the only way to keep you safe," Grandpa Lamar d'Lion would always write in his letters.
He'd always felt like the only one who truly understood her pain. But he'd been imprisoned four years ago for sheltering a North Avalonian in the woods. How could they do that to a seventy-three-year-old man?
Ava shook her head, forcing the dark thoughts away. Today was supposed to be a good day. Jennifer's day.
—
Jennifer was waiting at their usual spot, the fountain in the town square. She was beautiful in that effortless Southern way: caramel skin glowing in the afternoon sun, blonde wavy hair that fell behind her shoulders, wearing a dress that probably cost more than Ava made in a month.
Jennifer's family was rich enough to matter.
"Finally!" Jennifer threw her arms around Ava, then pulled back with a laugh. "Is that… is that jam in your hair?"
Ava reached up, finding the sticky strand. "Apparently."
"You're a disaster." Jennifer linked their arms. "But you're my disaster. Now come on! There's something happening at the pier. Academy students are in town!"
Ava's stomach flipped. "Academy students?"
"I know, right? Apparently they're on some kind of cultural exchange trip. And Ava! They're gorgeous. Like, criminally gorgeous. We have to go see."
"I don't know—"
"Please? I've been dying of boredom all week. And besides—" Jennifer's expression turned sly. "—don't you want to see what the Academy is really like? Before I go there myself?"
Yes, the Academy applications. Jennifer had talked about nothing else for months.
"You really think you'll get in?" Ava asked as they started walking toward the pier.
"I have to get in. Do you know what kind of opportunities Academy graduates get? Immediate placement in government positions. Access to the best trade networks. Guaranteed advancement in whichever nation you choose to serve. One of the most powerful Avalonian" Jennifer's eyes practically glowed with dreams. "They only take twenty students from each nation each year, Ava. Twenty. Out of hundreds of applicants. But I've been preparing for this my entire life. I've had private tutors practiced combat training, studied political theory and I'm ready to go in and shineee!"
Ava felt that familiar pang—envy mixed with love for her friend. Jennifer's future was so clear, bright and possible. While Ava would spend her life pretending to be someone she wasn't, working in bakeries and keeping her head down.
She wanted freedom, adventure, something more than just living. But she should be grateful she got to live and learn this way at all.
"I'm sure you'll make it," Ava said, meaning it. "You're brilliant."
"And when I do, I'll get you a job in whatever ministry I end up in. No more flour in your hair." Jennifer grinned, squeezing her arm. "We'll be powerful together."
If only she knew how impossible that was. Ava thought
"Okay!" Ava forced brightness into her voice. "Let's go see your future classmates."
The pier was chaos. Half the town had turned out to gawk at the Academy students who stood near the ships in their pristine uniforms; yellow for East, green for West, blue for South. They looked Superior, like they were doing the town a favor by existing in it.
"See?" Jennifer whispered, elbowing Ava hard enough to make her stumble. "Told you they were hot."
She wasn't wrong. The students looked like they'd been carved from marble and ambition; the guys were tall, confident, radiating the kind of casual arrogance that came from knowing you were better than everyone around you and the girls were calm, beautiful...
Ava's gaze snagged on one in particular. A boy in Southern blue, strikingly handsome with dark hair that fell perfectly across his forehead, strong features, and an intensity in the way he surveyed the crowd like he was cataloging weaknesses.
Their eyes met.
For one suspended heartbeat, interest flickered in his expression. Ava found herself almost letting a smile.
Then he looked her up and down, taking her in and then sighed. Like she was personally disappointing. He turned away dismissively.
Ava's face burned. Her hands clenched into fists. "Who does he think he is?"
"Oh my gods!" Jennifer squealed, completely missing Ava's humiliation. "Did you see that guy? The one with the dark hair? He's gorgeous!" She clutched Ava's arm like a lifeline. "I can't pick! They're all so—"
"Yeah, great," Ava muttered, still glaring at the back of Mr. Dismissive's perfect head. She mentally christened him "Southern Snob" and added him to her list of people who could step on a barnacle.
After what felt like an eternity of Jennifer swooning and Ava brooding, Jennifer suddenly grabbed her arm with renewed urgency.
"Come on! The announcements are starting! We need to get to the square so we don't miss anything!"
She was already running.
Ava had no choice but to follow, nearly taking out an elderly woman with a basket of fish. "Sorryyyyyy!"
—
The main square was packed. A platform had been erected in front of the South Avalon government building, and an official in formal blue robes stood at a podium with a scroll that held twenty futures in its elegant script.
"—our first selection," he was announcing as they arrived, breathless. "Elvis Webb of House Torrent!"
Applause erupted. A boy from the upper district practically floated to the stage, his family screaming with joy.
Jennifer's hand found Ava's, gripping so tight.
The names continued. One after another. Each announcement met with celebration.
"—eighteenth selection: Rosalia Sands of the merchant quarter!"
Two spots left.
Jennifer had stopped breathing.
"—nineteenth selection: Burna Cross of House Whitmore!"
The crowd roared. Jennifer's grip turned painful.
One spot left. One name left to call.
Ava's chest felt tight. A tiny part of her wished she could be called. To experience what everyone dreamed of. To be chosen for something important.
But she shook the thought away quickly. Intense emotions destabilized the lenses. Besides, this was Jennifer's moment. Her friend deserved this more than anyone.
The official cleared his throat, unrolling the final section of the scroll. His brow furrowed slightly. Enough to send a ripple of confusion through the crowd.
"And our twentieth and final selection from South Avalon—"
Time seemed to slow.
"—Ava d'Lion of the coastal district."
The world stopped.
Ava's brain simply… stopped processing. Her name. That was her name. On a list for the Academy of the Thrones. The place she'd never applied to. The place she could never, ever go.
Around them, confused murmurs rippled outward like water.
"Who?"
"D'Lion? Never heard of them."
Jennifer's hand dropped from hers.
When Ava turned to look at her friend, the expression on Jennifer's face made her stomach drop. Confusion. Hurt. And something worse—betrayal.
"Ava?" Jennifer's voice was very, very quiet. "Did you… did you apply?"
"No." The word came out strangled. "No, I didn't. I swear, I didn't—"
"Then how is your name on that list?" Tears were filling Jennifer's eyes with anger. "How, Ava?"
"I don't know!"
"Ava d'Lion?" The official was scanning the crowd now. "Is Ava d'Lion present?"
Every eye in the square turned, searching.
Ava wanted to run. Wanted to disappear. Wanted to wake up from this nightmare.
But Jennifer was staring at her with something that looked like hate.
And the official was still calling her name.
And somewhere in the crowd, someone pointed.
"There. That's her."