ꜛꜜ𝓐𝓵𝓽𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓭𝓮ꜜꜛ

ꜛꜜ𝓞𝓷𝓮ꜜꜛ

Mount Evarist Land Camp, Sector 34, Year 3045

It is hot.

It is always hot.

Ever since the Flare, everything has been hot. Excruciatingly so. There are no clouds. We can't leave any piles of dry leaves or wood out, or it'll burn and start a massfire. All those high-tech devices from the 2000s have been destroyed, their circuits fried and evidently rendered useless. We've just begun rebuilding our technological infrastructure. The thing is, I should be used to this by now; the Flare happened a long time ago- before I was born. Everyone says it was hot- I've said that too many times, haven't I... I guess I could say it was boiling. Everyone says the sun scorched the earth so much that all the ice melted. I always ask, "But wouldn't that make the water evaporate?" But everyone waves me off and says, "Get back to carving, Finch."

Oh, yeah. I should probably introduce myself. Well... My name is Finch. I'm 15 years old. I'm a woodcarver. My mom's name is Kyula, and my father's name is Peter. I have a sister named Syra. She's 17. I live on the island of Evarist. I think it was supposed to be the name of some super tall mountain from when there was more solid land. I heard the Village Elder saying it was spelled e-v-e-r-e-s-t, but no one really believes him. He's been around forever.

The island I live on is not too big, not too small. It's medium-sized and perfect for my colony of 1,000 people. It's a tight-knit community. Everybody knows everybody. Our government consists of a few elected officials who run the island, with one central leader that controls them. We try to keep the peace, and if you cause trouble, well... I hope you know how to swim.

"Finch!" Syra yells.

"What!?" I shout back, trying to sound busy.

"Come on; we have to go harvest the Dakan Berries. Mom said she wants to make Dakan Pie for dessert."

"Fine, Syra," I groan, emerging from my room. My mind is racing, thinking of all the best places to find driftwood.

We go out into the fields swaying with bright, colorful berries, some blue, some green. The green ones are ripe. We take our baskets woven by our mom and begin gathering berries. We need to fill our baskets as high as they can go. Otherwise, Mom won't have enough for the pie. I veer off course and head to the beach to find carvable wood.

"Stop looking at wood and get over here!" Syra calls out. I jog back to her, and she hands me a big basket, pointing to the plants. When we fill about three baskets each, we head home. We enter our small shack and place the baskets on the table.

"Mom! We're home!" Syra yells.

"Ok, honey! Please leave the baskets in the kitchen," my mom shouts.

I grab my wood and head to my room, spinning across the floor on my rolly chair. I bump into a wall and almost knock a shelf over, but catch it in the nick of time. I roll back to my desk and slide into the seating area.

I gather my tools and select a fresh piece of wood, specifically one I found today while picking berries, and begin carving. When I carve, I kind of go to another dimension. Everyone else disappears.

When I finish, I set the piece down and step back. I examine the wood to find I carved another bird. Not just any bird, but a finch. Yes, I know, quite cliché, but I can't help it. I just carve with no thought, and you know that. This time, the bird has its wings spread wide. It stands atop a delicate branch.

"Finch!" My mom pokes her head into my room. "Dinners ready!"

"Ok, let me go wash up!" I head to the washroom and stick my hands in the cool water basin. We still have access to some cold water, though it's kind of a privilege. I run into the dining room.

"Hey, kiddo!" My father begins, "How was your day?"

"Good," I reply, "How was work?"

"Good. Everything is in order."

"That's good." My dad works with the town Government. He's actually the head governor.

"So..." My mom begins, "Finch, we were thinking..." She bites her lip. "Well... we were thinking... It might be time for you to go to the Landing."

"What?" I ask, puzzled. "I thought the youngest age you could go was 17!"

"Yes, well, your father found a way to get you in earlier. He- we- want you to learn how to be a leader so you can take on your father's job someday. This island won't run itself, after all."

"But I need to stay and help around the house!" Nope, no, I can't go to the Landing, I think, I can't go learn how to be a boring official! I need to find a way out of this...

"Mom, Dad, please?" I plead.

"No. It's time." My mom says firmly. "Your first day is tomorrow. You can take your plate to the kitchen if you've finished your food."

I get up abruptly and push my chair back. I drop my plate in the sink and storm off to my room. I hear my mom yell, "No pie?" And slam the door. I change and fall back on my bed.

I hope this isn't as bad as it seems... I think as I doze off.

It can't possibly be that bad... right?