The Rose Games

Chapter 4

The exciting chapter....  *dramatic music* 

Song of the chapter: What Doesn't Kill You (Stronger) by Kelly Clarkson

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                                                                    Chapter 4

A woman clad in white robes that glowed with the light of the moon stood in front of me, extending her arms toward me.  Her lips were moving, but no sound came out.  She stepped closer and touched my arm with a touch as light as feathers. A shiver ran through my body, and my skin -- previously caramel colored from the work in the fields -- started to glow a pale white.  I started to soar up toward the moon, spiraling closer and closer until I could just touch it --

I woke up, panting and out of breath.  That was one of the most realistic dreams I had ever had.  Did it mean something?

I pressed my palms to my forehead and took a few deep breaths.  I looked out of my window and saw the sky was the gray color that just precedes dawn, the time when every single life form holds their breath and waits for the sun to just break over the horizon for their days to begin. 

I laid back down and tried to get some more sleep and found that I couldn't.  I seemed troubled, and I didn't know why.  I sorted through my thoughts and memories and finally landed on it -- The Picking.  It was today.

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"Artemis!" Gima called.  "Come on, we're going to be late!"

"Well, we wouldn't want that to happen, now would we?" I muttered under my breath as I fixed the last strand of my hair into place.  "Coming, Gima!" I called. 

I rushed down the stairs in my flat shoes, hefting the skirts of my red embroidered dress over my ankles so as not to trip on it. 

I rushed out the front door and saw Gima and Gipa sitting in the wagon, waiting for me.  Gima beckoned with a wrinkly hand and I climbed up into the seat next to her, smoothing out my skirts and staring nervously off into the distance.

"You're going to be fine," Gima said, laying a hand on mine, although her voice broke slightly at the end of her sentence.

"I hope so," I whispered, and she smiled weakly before turning around to stare at the horizon.

Time seemed to drag by slowly, taking it's time, as an elderly woman slowly knits the threads of her scarf together, making each one precise.  That is what this day felt like, it felt like time was slowly knitting the day forward at a snail's pace, the needles clacking dully, the threads sliding over each other.

The festival grounds slowly came into view, the tents lifeless, the people milling aboug pale-faced and trembling.  We pulled into the wagon yard, unhitched Comisia and Demetri, and trudged into the grounds, our heads down.

I saw Nickolai and managed a small smile before it quavered and fell like a drop of water off of an icicle.  He sighed, and I saw two small crystal tears in his eyes that quickly disappeared when he blinked.  He nodded, and in his eyes I saw the words, "Be strong."

I nodded, and continued on with Gima and Gipa.  Our feet dragged in the dirt, kicking up small clouds of dust that quickly dissipated in the early morning sunlight.  We stopped in the back of the crowd that had gathered in what was yesterday's dance floor.  A podium now stood at the head of the circle of bare ground, and on it stood the grim-faced priest in his ceremonial robes of gold and deep purple.