Page 29

Amias

“Next question!” A professor announces as I scribble down notes.

Glaide's professor invited us to a panel about dreamscreechers. Unfortunately, Glaide had

homework for his other courses so he couldn't join me. So I've come by myself. It is a late night panel, with two more world class professors discussing dreamscreechers with Dr. Fitz. Now people are asking questions in the large amphitheater as I write down notes.

I skim over my notebook, set on my pale blue dress pants that match my suit jacket. I've been writing everything to gain more knowledge on dreamscreechers.

“They want you to keep your mouth shut because you aren't a scientist, Amias. You're a stupid naive little boy. You don't know shit! ”

Clara's words whisper in the back of my head. I force my foot down from tapping. I've tried to forget those ideas but they keep coming back to the dreamscreecher I encountered.

That one didn't seem evil. Is that enough to prove anything?

No. I shouldn't be questioning it. There's scientific evidence.

But the evidence still doesn't satisfy me. It's science! What's wrong with me?

A professor on stage interrupts my thoughts. “We still should remain cautious of dreamscreechers.

"Next question!"

How do you know those genes are linked to violent behavior?

That's the question that's on my tongue. I roll my tongue in my mouth, as if it’s a scroll I could put in a cabinet. He already answered that question. I should just be satisfied.

But I can't help but keep wondering if I'm being that good little boy or if I'm just being logical? All of this feels wrong.

Maybe, I can get a more satisfying answer, or some reassurance that I'm right. Something to keep my mind at peace.

I guess there's only one way to find out.

I gulp as I stand up and raise my hand. The person holding the glowing ball gasps, as he whispers my name in excitement! He comes between the rows of seats I'm in and hands over the glowing amplifier

"Um… so…" People start staring my way, and I sink into my shoulders. I force my foot down when the amplifier picks up its tapping.

With all eyes on me, doubts overpower my confidence. What if I look stupid? Everyone knows that dreamscreechers are evil. We've known for centuries. How am I even questioning it? Especially in front of people who've dedicated their lives to studying dreamscreechers?

Would it be wrong to question the immorality or monsters that killed Sabina's family? Or the creatures that were made in spite of my Grandmother? Or other victims that have suffered?

I let out a deep breath. It's too late. I'm in it now. “How…How do you guys know that gene DS52 is what makes them violent?"

The three geneticists look at each other.

Dr. Fitz has the first words, showing off his not so pearly whites.

"As you and I have discussed, we've studied this DNA for years and compared their genetics across the different animals and humans of course.

We discovered a strand that isn't quite like the other genes.

They link to their thoughts and behavior according to the section of DNA it resides, and seeing as other creatures don't have it, and through other studies and experiments, we've been able to conclude that it is indeed what makes them uniquely violent. "

I give a slow nod. "What if… it's a different kind of behavior gene? Of course they would act a little differently if they're shifters.”

"As mentioned, we know this by the other DNA that surrounds it," Dr. Fitz says. “Other genes link up much more to those of humans and pumas, and these genes-"

"Is there a specific experiment you can name?” I ask.

Dr.Fitz smirks. “Well it may be too complicated for you to understand when you haven't studied science.”

“But have you used magic to test that idea? Or anything else? Is it all just based on the fact that it's unique?”

One of the other geneticists, dressed in a black suit with his gray curly hair, answers talking with a pointed finger to the sky. “We haven't been able to test that way. That's a big reason why it's called the DS52 theory. ”

My heart jumps at the last word. “Theory?”

He continues, “It’s the closest gene we have to what makes them violent, but more tests need to be run. We do believe that this gene is the one though.”

I clench my fists around my notes. The articles never said anything about this being a theory and needing more testing. Why are they presenting this like it's a fact?

"There is always room for new discoveries but this is the most probable idea.” Dr. Fitz's eyes dart from side to side, giving away his discomfort. "We all know from Amara herself that dreamscreechers were made violent. We're just looking into how they were made violent."

"So you just go into research with your own bias?” My teeth start to grind. “You go in experimenting trying to prove that dreamscreechers are naturally violent? You literally gave me an article stating that it was a fact that they were”

"It's not biased. It's the word of the Gift of Love herself," Another geneticist, with a messy gray bun and a pale green blazer, stands on her two feet.

Her wrinkled face scrunches as she points her finger at me.

"We have no reason to doubt Amara. She is a Gift to us from Cosmo, made divinely to reward our gratitude. "

"Godusa is too!" I snap. "She is the Gift of dreams and prophecy! When we all came together to worship Cosmo, he gave us both!”

"But she's full of hate! She has punished us because of her own jealousy!" Her voice gets more passionate. Even Dr. Fitz comes over and pats her shoulder.

“How do we even know she had punished us with dreamscreechers?” I squint. “I would know more than anyone here that Amara is not immune to misunderstandings. What if that's the case?”

Dr. Fitz scowls. “Don't be so foolish, Amias! We have accounts of our ancestors being traumatized by not only dreamscreechers, but by Godusa’s nightmares!

We have stories like Lydia and the Great Beast as proof of her treachery!

She's been after us since the very beginning!

Dreamscreechers are just an addition to the punishments she's already handed out!”

I think over those stories. Godusa had used her dreams for wrong. We know how she had haunted our people with nightmares because of our lack of gratitude. There's real letters from her victims.

Then there's the story of Lydia, and how she was manipulated by a dreamscreecher. It coerced her. It stole from her. It nearly killed her.

But… that doesn't mean they're all evil. Even if Lydia was a victim to a single dreamscreecher, there's still thousands more that could be innocent.

Dr. Fitz continues. “I don't understand how you could question it. Godusa had punished your bloodline as well as everyone else's.”

I furrow my brows. If it were to turn out I was wrong, it would be disrespectful to not only the kingdom of Amara, but to my family. My heart lurches at the thought I could be on the wrong side of the story.

I lower my head. “But is there any evidence that that's true? That dreamscreechers exist to spite us all?”

“It's Amara's word,” Dr. Fitz says firmly. “She is our divinely designed Gift of Love. She’s more reliable than any evidence we could ever come up with.”

I scoff. “So you're just following her blindly?”

“She's the Gift of Love. Have you not listened?”

I sigh. No. This isn't right. Just because she's a Gift doesn't mean she knows everything.

“I'm sorry… but that's wrong.” A part of me wants to sink below, never to return, but a bigger part wants me to keep my feet planted. I'm not going to let this nonsense walk all over me. “I can't support this amount of dishonesty.”

People murmur as I turn to my chair where I have my satchel and put away my notes. The professor pleads for me to stay but I tune him out.

Clara was right. My gut was right. It's all just a lie.

“Hey, isn't he the grandson that doesn't have a soulmate?” One man whispers.

As I swing my satchel over my shoulder, I grip it tightly. Are they really bringing up my soulmate problems right now?

“I think he should be cleansed,” another person says. “Before he uses this to let dreamscreechers in.”

“This is why he didn't get a soulmate, right? His monster fetish is gonna get us all killed!”

“I knew there was something wrong with him when Amara said he didn't have a soulmate.”

My body tenses. Wrong with me? They think there's something wrong with me because I pointed out the lies.

Maybe this kingdom is really just that ignorant.

I was such an idiot before. I'd actually appreciate Clara slapping me for the amount of stupid that came out of my mouth.

I storm towards the door as Dr. Fitz yells. “We are just telling you what's good for your own safety!”

I stop and turn back, only getting increasingly irritated the more they speak. “If you want to tell people what's good for them, tell them the truth.”

And with that, I turn my back on their propaganda panel and leave it behind.

◆◆◆

I stand outside, where towering over me is the most recognizable brick building of the college. The clock at the top goes off every fifteen minutes. Surrounding the building are freshly trimmed hedges, with a space in front leading to the main sidewalks of Amara City.

As I wait for my chauffeur in the last light of starset, I think over what happened.

What do I do now? Everyone's going to hate me. What would Grandmother say? Would she be disappointed?

It doesn't matter. The dreamscreecher stories are all wrong.

And if I want to do the right thing, that means changing my wish against dreamscreechers. There's no excuse for poisoning innocent people.

Something in the back of my mind keeps telling me that I've gone mad. Why be so rebellious against your own family? Against my Grandmother?

I should be okay with questioning things. Why would I be afraid to demand a proper answer?

Yelp!

I whip my head to the bushes behind me. There's rustling, and under the faint fiery light of Estrella's star, I catch a glimpse of glowing purple eyes.

My body stiffens. A dreamscreecher!

I instinctively reach for my gun in my satchel but with a blink, I snap out of it. I don't know if they're going to attack. Killing on sight isn't proven to be needed.

The dreamscreecher falls from out the bush, their eyes widened and their fur puffing when they spot me. They shriek before running away.

I call out, “Wait!”

The dreamscreecher freezes and turns back around. Its ears are flattened now with its head bowed.

I bend my knees, keeping eye contact. My heart pounds as if the stories were proven true, but I try to keep myself calm and collected. Those stories are probably riddled with lies and misunderstandings.

Okay dreamscreecher. Lets see if you're really evil…