Achromic

“People say that being colorless means you are less than any other ciro. Maybe they’re right. All I know is, though my ciro has no color, everyone else is colorblind. Blinded by the colors that shape our society.”
—By the lady Ari in the archives of the Corith, 10th century.

Achromic (Part 1 Draft 1)
Dim light flickered from the oil lamps, casting shadows along the rough stone walls. I inched closer, nearing the ominous wooden door at the end of the corridor, light reaching out from under it. Soft voices, muffled but stark in the too quiet night. Biting my lip in my usual nervous habit, I press my ear against the door trying hard to listen over my now far too loud heartbeat.

“Balor she’s not ready! We have to buy her more time!”

“She’s nearing her shining. We have no choice my friend. You knew this day would come.” This voice softer, was far calmer than the first.

“What if it’s the same? She’s my daughter Balor, I can’t let her be cast out and treated like the rest of them.” The mans voice sounded desperate.

“She’s such a bright girl. I’m sure her color has developed by now and will be just as bright as she is.”

Hearing the squeak of a chair scooting back I flushed, pushing myself back from the door softly. I took big steps backing up as quickly and silently as I could then darted away. Tears falling behind me as I ran.

The ceremony was tomorrow. Tomorrow! I knew as well as anyone what was going to happen. It was obvious. I was about to be nineteen. Nineteen years and no sign of an aura yet. Most got theirs between ten and twelve manifesting as strange abilities tied to their houses lineage. The lack of an aura or an aspect meant only one thing. I was colorless. Worthless. And tomorrow it would be confirmed. Even as a bright lords daughter I wouldn’t be treated any different. I would be declared a disgrace of breeding and cast out of my fathers house.

During the ceremony tomorrow they would chip off my vail. A clay cover put over my Ciro at birth to help the light grow brighter and mature till removed. Usually removed at the first sign of an aura. At nineteen it is removed anyway to prove what is obvious.

I lay awake. In my bed now. Knowing this would be the last time I would have such a wonderful bed, such a warm room, a ceiling over my head, and a father who loves me.

“Brightness! Brightness! It’s nearly time!” The unruly voice of Spears, one of my ladies in wait chimed through my corridor.

“I’m up. I’m up.” I grumble, clasping my blonde hair up and enjoying the final moments in my room. Looking around at the thick beams, colorful marble floor, and beautiful paintings portraying famous Ciroesses throughout history, I took a deep breath and turned away form it all, making my way towards the thick red doors. Pulling them open to see Spears face, pale and sickly, her eyes glossy with held back tears.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this brightness?”

I chuckle without any real mirth. “Can I go back to bed if I’m not?”

Her head lowers, “No brightness. I’m afraid not.” The pale blue of her on Ciro embedded in her chest lighting up her face from below. What I would give for even a dirty brown Ciro.

Walking forward I make my way to the aura chamber. The clicking of heels on marble, the echoing of the halls, the rich smell of lilac in the air. All things I’d never experience again. Colorless weren’t even permitted to wear heels let alone be in a place as luxurious as this. This was it for me. I always knew the day would come, but it never felt real. Like maybe the world would end before this day. But this day did come.

Entering the chamber my pulse quickened. ‘Maybe I do have a color? My aspect just hadn’t appeared yet?’ My eyes meet my fathers he is strong and regal, his thick beard and uniform sharp and precise. But his eyes, his eyes were haunted and red. The glowing of his deep red Ciro illuminating his face making it look all the more haunted.

“Come now child, it is time.” The Maglachuck, an old man with a gray withered beard gestured for me to lay back on the curved stone table. I did as he told me, nervousness vibrating through me. The stone was cold and hard. Ice against my skin.

“Get the lantern” the Maglachuck said, gesturing to a dark hair guard about my age to the right of my father. The guard turned a dial dimming the lanterns, bringing the chamber into near darkness. This was done to enhance the effect, for when the clay seal gets chipped away for the first time, my ciro gem should fill the chamber with my houses light. The Maglachuck then is to assess the richness of color and brightness of my gem heart. Thus determining my class in society.

“Let us begin. Chiss, bring me the Taggarat.” A small boy in the shadows quickly ran forward lifting the a colorful wooden elongated box over his head and bowing down before the Maglachuck.

The Maglachuck lifted the lid and pulled out a long ancient looking chisel with a sharp pointed end. Bringing it to my check he began to recite. “For the gods came down and delivered us from darkness. Filling our bodies with the power and the light to drive away the empty. With this Taggarat I show the blessing you too have been given and the power you inherit. May the pigments be in your favor.” With that the Maglachuck laid down the hammer against the Taggarat shattering my seal and reviling my light and plunging the room into… nothing. The silence held, thick as molasses. After several long seconds the Maglachuck gestured back to the guard in the corner. The lanterns slowly brightened as he turn the dial. The Maglachuck, looked down at my now lit ciro. His face full of pity and much softer now. “I’m sorry child. You have no color nor light in your ciro.” He turn to the guard. “Thomason?”

The guard stepped forward. “Yes, Maglachuck.”

“Please escort the achromic outside the city gates.”

“Of course. Please follow me achromic.”

Numbly I rose. My body feeling empty and dark. I knew this was coming, but I didn’t realize how much hope I still had that I might have lit up the room. Being cast out was the same as a death sentence. The light of ciros kept the demons at bay. The light causing them pain. Being cast out without the blessing of the light was like throwing a tied up lamb in with a bunch of starving wolves.