By the Skin of her Smile
She had plenty of knowledge but little caution. She chose the name ‘Lorikeet’ to reflect her nature, this was a popular but unwise choice. Names that reflect the soul are but a step away from True.
She was a theatre major and so she knew and practised all the norm. She was a freshman and so she kept iron and salt in one bag, cream and gifts in another. This was where her caution ended.
She was just too kind.
She would see a girl with hair spun of gold weeping in the sidewalk and take her to the dorm that she no longer shared. She would ask the girl’s story over mugs of honey tea and give advice on whatever the girl would bring up. She had invited her in.
She would linger by the pool, seeing the girls with silver-toned skin lounging and accept their invitation to swim. “Only for 2 hours.” She would say, thinking it would protect her. It didn’t. Her protection came from her demeaner; she’d braid their hair, gossip about the swim team and when her time came the girls would allow her to leave.
She would laugh with the boys with too long nails and off-white sclera at parties. They saw easy prey, no worth to her. She would’ve accepted any offer they put forward. They would pass over her in need of a challenge, someone who would be conquered. She would not be asked to gamble as she had nothing worth winning.
Everybody who thought they knew her thought it wouldn’t be long until she was Taken.
She was not.
It would be a stretch to say that the gentry favoured Lorikeet, but they saw in her a small soul. She would be a side-character for all her life, she would marry a nice normal person and adopt a dog and take in one of her namesakes. They didn’t see the worth in Taking her, they wanted those that would make an impact on the world.
Then the storm happened.
_
She had always been energised by lightning in the air and thunder in her ears. She went to walk the grounds as it was a great time to run.
She ran straight into the Court.
_
The Court looked through her. (They saw her, of course, she was not hidden to them.)
The girl with golden hair, the girls with silver skin and the boys with too long nails and off-white sclera all felt a pull at their chests as their Betters looked upon this girl with not-distain. They shifted their weight as the Court off-handily sentenced her to death, not special enough to be Taken.
‘Wait.’
The Court spins their heads (only their heads, the necks and bodies do not follow) towards the girl with golden hair.
‘She has done many favours for me. Free me from her debt by sparing her.’
‘THAT IS NOT WORTH HER FREEDOM’ The hive-voice of the Court wafts through the air.
The silver skinned girls speak up, ‘She has kept our company for all her time here, bringing us kind smiles and fun stories. We want to know how they end.’
‘YOUR INSOLENCE WILL NOT SAVE HER’
The boys from many a party step forward, ‘She treated us with warmth and acceptance in our Parties, never gambling anything not at her choice but because we did not wish her to lose.’
‘WHY THIS GIRL? SURELY SHE IS NOT UNIQUE AMONG THE HUMANS’
But the Court cannot think of another that has captured the hearts of their kind through so little. How could they, in a place where caution was the norm and the gentry were not to be trusted? All others who had trusted them were Taken or dead. She was neither.
_
Several bargains had been made but that morn Lorikeet was found sleeping in the theatre by her fellow thespians without the knowledge of her near-death.
And if after that day she decided that her new name would be Sonse, her friends didn’t mention it. And if from that day she only really spoke to the gentry (golden hair, silver skin and long nails everywhere around her) and that her eyes now shone pure white whenever lighting struck, well, no one could mention it.
She was still here, but she wasn’t quite Lorikeet anymore.
x
