The Nightingale: Wings of Ink

Chapter One- Macy's Time

"Celeste!" Mum calls from downstairs. "Celeste, it's time for breakfast!" Her musical voice that I'd always somehow associated with fairies carries upstairs to my room in the tower.

I brush my hair quickly, but not so quickly I'm in a hurry. The Amity disbelieve that rushing ever solved anything; it only causes us to make potentially harmful mistakes.

I take the usual lock of my auburn hair and put it in its usual auburn braid, letting it fall onto the rest of my hair that I usually leave alone. I pick a bright blue cornflower from the flower box below my window, and I tuck it into the top of the braid. I look into the silver-rimmed mirror on my beaten-up little oak dresser and inspect my reflection.

The first thing I see are eyes. Big, bluish gray eyes in a pale, freckled face. I see long, wavy hair framing my face and full, ruby red lips that curve into a smile when I see her reflection standing behind me in the doorway. Macy. I look over my shoulder and smile at her.

"Come on, Little Bird! Your mash is getting cold." My sister grins and walks over to me. She stands beside me at my place before the mirror and softly plays with my hair. "You look lovely."

"So do you!" I gasp.

And she really does. Her plain red dress with a pale yellow lace hem compliments her exquisite face. She has my eyes, only smaller. While I am told that my eyes sparkle, Macy's eyes shimmer, like the surface of a still lake. Her hair is longer, much more wavy than mine, and a dark brown, with sun bleached streaks from helping in the fields. Her pink, thin lips give way to a dazzling grin that makes you certain that all is right in the world. Her figure is very feminine but strong, capable of reaping bushels upon bushels of wheat and barley and then some. Serene, beautiful, strong.

"So, today's the day, yeah?" I smile wanly at Reflection-Macy. She nods slowly, still fiddling with my hair. Today is Test Day for all the sixteen-year-olds in the city. Macy would be taking the aptitude test today, and my time would come next year, after my birthday.

I brush on some mascara, and I put on a natural-looking amount of eyeliner and lipgloss while Macy talks.

"It doesn't matter what my results are, anyway," she says somewhat fiercely, out of her usual Amity character. "Because we've already made a decision, haven't we?" She whispers that last part conspiratorially, and I nod.

We're getting out of here. Out of Amity, where you can't speak your mind for fear of offending someone. Where you can't talk loudly or sharply in any way for fear of causing an "unpleasant scene" or making someone uncomfortable. Where you can't fight, even if there was a score to settle that just can't be resolved with kind and carefully chosen words. No debating, for that is Fight's daughter. No arguing, for fear of breaking trust in a friendship. For fear of, for fear of.

Macy and I are done with fear. We know that inside, underneath our peaceful and kind demeanors, we have brave souls.

And we are ready to set them free.