1st 5 Pages July Workshop - Dyer Rev 2

Name: Jennifer Dyer
Genre: Young Adult Fantasy
Tittle: Blue Serenity

2417 AD

At sunset, I’d take the coming-of-age oath, and by the time the five moons had risen, I’d have sentenced myself to death.

For the tenth time, I attempted to wind my hair into an elaborate knot, but the long black strands slipped and fell. I threw my brush on the floor and took a long breath. The scent of roses, sweet and strong, filled my nostrils, but did nothing to calm my thoughts. I shoved open my balcony doors. Above, two of our moons peeked over the western horizon of this planet so different from our homeworld, the place the humans once called Earth.

That was before the Raphient telepaths destroyed it.

Below my balcony, healers with dark robes and darker expressions moved between banquet tables smothered in a food and flower invasion. White floral ropes led to the raised platform where I’d take the oath. A small banner, left crooked across the platform, read, “Wellness and peace to Princess Serenity.”

On one of the patios, a healer elder named Jasen paced, hands crossed over his bony chest, black silk robes swishing. The setting sun slashed red across his face. He glared toward where I stood on my third-floor balcony, his face scrunched up like an old man’s gnarled fist. “What a waste, throwing a party for that half-breed mongrel.” His words rang out. He wanted me to hear.

I’d grown accustomed to Jasen’s hatred, but the word mongrel burned like hot metal down my throat.

“Shouldn’t you be dressed?”

Behind me, Master Eli, my protector, teacher, and sometimes warden, pushed open my door, his wide shoulders filling the door frame. Not waiting for my answer, he strode past the marble fountain in the center of my room toward my desk, footfalls silent on the stone floor, posture as stiff as his forest-green warrior uniform.

He looked over my bed, probably making sure I’d pulled the covers military straight. A band secured his platinum hair in a tight tail and a broadsword loomed over his shoulder. Unlike the healers who thought of carrying a sharp pencil as living dangerously, Nadiv warriors accessorized with weapons, the deadlier the better.

Master Eli didn’t need weapons to look imposing. His stern expression and muscular stature towering eight inches taller than my five-foot-six frame took care of that.

I said, “You know I don’t want this ceremony,” and glanced back at the palace grounds, so beautiful, so filled with hate.

Another healer stomped past Elder Jasen, yanking on tablecloths, slamming down silverware. She paused to pat around her perfect bun, as if the strain of decorating caused her black hairs to stray. A tray of sliced meat must have vexed her because she shoved it aside and knocked several pieces to the ground.

A voice bubbled into my mind like a fizzy drink. "Hungry. Smells good."

The voice wasn’t audible, so I couldn’t locate it by sound, but it only took a moment to find its source. One of Jasen’s tiny canines darted around the healer and gobbled the spilled morsels. It sat, eyes on me, and barked. "More, more, more."

The healer stilled, watching the canine watch me. My insides tightened. I scooted back into my room, but her high-pitched voice carried over the dog’s barking. “She’s unnatural, that one. Deviant and destructive. Not a true healer. Takes after her mother’s people. Mark me, she’ll do something to ruin—”

A mechanical hum sounded, and a shimmering haze dropped like a sheer curtain over my balcony doors. The outside noises went silent. Master Eli’s hand lingered over the audio shield switch on my wall. “Don’t listen to those healers’ poison, Serenity.” He glared outside. “I’m amazed a people gifted with the ability to heal by touch can be so intolerable.” He glanced my way. “Present company excluded.”

But the healers’ words rattled in my head: unnatural, deviant, mongrel. “They hate me because of my prophet blood. Imagine if they knew the truth.”

Eli's face hardened. “You’re worth more than a legion of them."

My stomach felt as though I’d tied it into a knot. “I think they suspect. You didn’t see her staring when the canine—”

“Ignore them. Jasen’s been ill tempered since the war exiled us to this planet, and celebrations make healers irritable.”

“Why?”

“Reminds them of everything the Raphients stole from us.” Typical Eli, he didn’t elaborate but nodded toward the gown hanging on my closet door. “You only have a few minutes.”

The gown’s sapphire hue matched my eyes and complimented my dark hair. The shiny blue fabric distracted from my too-dark-to-be-a-healer cinnamon skin. Father said I would look beautiful. It was the perfect dress for the perfect healer princess.

More like the perfect imposter.

Needing something to do with my hands that didn’t involve punching, I straightened my bookshelf filled with volumes about famous warriors. Lord Teomir’s handsome face stared back at me from one of the covers. “I can’t go through with this.”

“Your father told you to cease your worries about the oath.”

Eli had a talent for not only getting to the point but also stomping on it. The squeeze of discomfort in my chest ballooned into a tourniquet. “No, Father said, ‘Duty first, worry second.’”

“Then you should listen.”

“What am I supposed to do? If I tell the truth, they’ll kill me, and I can’t go out there and lie. Elder Jasen can sense a lie from across a crowded room.” I paced and wrung my hands. “When Jasen asks me to swear to protect our realms and the humans from the evils of the Raphient telepaths and to swear to report any telepathic persons, he’ll know if I lie. And then he’ll order the nearest warrior to chop my head off!” I leveled my gaze at him. “My head won't be the only one. You, my fath—”

“I know!" Eli’s words blasted out sharp as swords. I sensed rather than saw crimson waves crashing toward me from his mind—my deviant brain’s way of giving color to his emotions.

I blinked to clear away the intrusion. Sensing emotions in colors wasn’t a healer or prophet trait. Instead, this extra ability was one of my deadly talents I had to conceal. “I can’t do it.”

Eli took a long breath and smoothed the indigo silk banner hanging on the wall—one of the few relics I possessed from my prophet mother. Another wave of emotion, this one deep blue, billowed toward me. Was he sad?

“I wish your mother still lived.” His words came out rushed and hushed, as though he spoke to himself. “She’d give us an idea of what the future holds.” He released the banner, as though it burned his fingers, and cleared his throat. “Today, we trust your father.”


Movement outside drew his gaze. He opened the curtains and grunted. “Marvelous. That nature-tender’s been eating mushrooms again.”

Outside, a vine smacked the backside of a healer. A few patio levels down, a lanky male swished his finger around in the air. The same vine, weaving like a charmed snake, yanked on the healer’s hair. He snickered. She scowled. I couldn’t hear her retort, but by the way she stomped on the plant, it wasn’t nice. Two tall warriors headed toward the troublemaker.

Any other day, I might’ve laughed. “I rarely see the nature-tenders in action. They’re amazing.”

Eli pinched the bridge of his nose. “That one’s a tree-talking nightmare. I’d better get out there.”