Page 1 of The Freedom You Seek

For as long as I could remember, the summer solstice celebrations always had a special place in my heart. Even as a little girl, I loved eating all kinds of different delicacies from the many food stalls, staring at the goods of the vendors, and playing the silly little carnival games that promised big winnings but were only designed to make you part with your money. The girl I used to be always hoped to win one of the toys on display. After ages of dreaming about those trinkets, my longing to claim one as mine grew each winter.

My mother did her best to keep my expectations grounded with strict words. She knew luck was the key to winning these prizes, and few had it. In the end, she was right, of course. I never ended up winning one of the toys I so eagerly wanted. The biggest prize I ever brought home was a simple marble made of glass. It was chipped, and its surface was rough and uneven, but I spent hours observing the many colored swirls inside the tiny orb. I played with ituntil I lost it one day, and I wasn’t even able to remember where it had happened. My father turned my grief over my loss into one of his usual lectures.

The summer solstice celebration became even more meaningful to me after my tenth birthday. Every five winters, a crone named Madame Namtar attended the celebrations. She was never seen outside of her colorful tent and had a reputation as a hermit, never joining the townsfolk for even just one of the many events that took place during the festival. She claimed to be an oracle, and everyone above ten winters of age was invited to her tent to ask her a single question. I spent the whole month leading up to solstice thinking about my chance to talk to Madame Namtar and what wisdom she would grant me when she answered my query. Since I was fascinated by the tales of heroes, it wasn’t surprising my question reflected this obsession.

“I want to be a hero. How can I become one?”

I remembered little about Madame Namtar, how she looked, the way she was dressed, or how she held herself. But I was still able to recall her answer to this day:

“There is nothing wrong, child, with being ignored by the greater fates. The moment when destiny comes face to face with you and acknowledges your existence is one to be truly terrified. Being seen by forces beyond your comprehension may be tempting and seem grand in theory, but living under the thumb of fate is a very, very bad thing because your life is not your own anymore. No one tells you that being a hero means that you swap the one glorious moment of greatnessfor a myriad occasions of pain, torture, and heartbreak. No, child, don’t aspire to be more than you are.Plead for destiny to ignore you. I certainly pray for you.”

Five winters later, I wasn’t interested in winning silly games anymore. I was fifteen winters, after all, and such childish activities were beneath me and my friends. The food and the vendors still held my attention, but sneaking around with my peers after the curfew our parents had given us was equally important to me. And even though my friends scoffed when I told them, I wanted to ask Madame Namtar another question. Over the last few winters, I had stopped worshiping heroes. The oracle’s words had lingered in my thoughts, and my adoration had turned into something else as it fused with her warning—anxiety.

In an attempt to avoid their constant teasing, I snuck away from my friends and slipped into the tent of many colors once more. Madame Namtar’s gaze was piercing as she waited for me to voice my question.

“The last time we crossed paths, you’d warned me of the risks of piquing fate’s interest. Today, I want to ask you how to tell if you’ve been singled out.”

Just like the last time we’d met, her answer dug its way into my heart and branded itself into my very essence.

“Ah, I remember you, child. Five winters ago, you told me you wanted to be a hero, and I truly hoped I had discouraged you completely. So, that is your question today? You ask how you will know if you got into the clutches of fate. I fear I don’t have a straightforward answer for you. Fate sneaks up on you, takes you, shapes you, and also breaks you apart. Rewards may be high for the successful, but trust me, it’s not worth it. I see intelligence in your eyes, but also a longing for more written in them. Oh,child—I beg you to take my words seriously. Accept your lot in life, and don’t strive to be more than you are. Otherwise, you will set yourself on a path of unnecessary pain.”

Over the next five winters, I grew up. I wasn’t a naive young girl or a dreaming-but-terrified adolescent anymore. I came to the realization that the oracle, much like the games that falsely promised success, was just another deception. Probably, Madame Namtar only wanted to earn money like everyone else, and the mysteries surrounding her like a signature guaranteed she had a steady stream of visitors.

Despite everything, my curiosity burned bright, pushing me to see her one last time on this summer solstice. I had another question prepared, something so down to earth I’d already forgotten what it was just a few weeks later. The celebrations were almost over when I entered theoracle’s tent. I opened my mouth, but Madame Namtar was already speaking.

“Oh, it’s you, child. At last. I was afraid you wouldn’t come to see me today. But you are not the child I remember so well anymore, are you? Come closer—give me your hand. Don’t be shy, I don’t bite.”

This was new. Nevertheless, I approached and gave her my hand. “My question today—” I started, but the oracle silenced me.

“No, no, shush—you can’t ask me a question today. Let me talk. I can see you much clearer now. You will soon have to choose. Consider my words at the crossroads when you face the choice to hurt or be hurt.

Cherish the peace while it lasts. You’re scared now, but it’s too late to recall what I told you winters ago. This is our third meeting. The dice are cast, and the players will soon move onto the board. There is nothing you can do anymore to escape.

Now go. Remain in blissful ignorance for a little while longer. This is the calm before the storm. Summon your courage. Be everything you ever wanted to be. And maybe, I at least hope so, we will see each other again.”

To say I was confused as I stumbled out of the tent of the mysterious oracle was an understatement. My bewilderment was only heightened by something soft I cradled in my hands. It was a scarf in a shade ofpurple so saturated that it was hard to believe it was real. The fabric shimmered like spun amethysts in the light of the setting sun, and my hands ran over the delicate material as I tried to figure out why I had the scarf in my possession. Had I stolen it from Madame Namtar? My cheeks turned red in embarrassment at the thought of this possibility. I wasn’t a thief, and I never wanted to commit a crime, so I saw no other option but to turn back to the tent. I had to return what wasn’t mine.

To my left, the enticing scent of grilled, glazed meat skewers made my stomach rumble. A man to my right was selling lottery tickets as part of Credenta’s charity raffle for the nearby orphanage. In front of me, however, where a colorful tent had been moments ago, nothing else but an empty spot remained.

Impatience twisted in my stomach, and I craned my neck as I closely observed the narrow street ahead of me.

“Where is she?” I mumbled to myself, and another piece of dry willow sailed to the ground. If Rewi didn’t show up soon, my poor basket would suffer beyond repair.

I looked up at the sun rising higher and knew I couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Rewi had always struggled with being on time, but today, my best friend hit a new low. Maybe she’d forgotten about me after all. She’d never done so before, but I wouldn’t put it past her. Sometimes, her head was in the clouds.

“Oh, by the gods!” I winced in pain and looked down at my finger. The latest piece of willow wood I’d fiddled with had broken my skin, leaving a small wound. I carefullyremoved the splinter and used the inside of my dress sleeve to clean up the blood.

That settled it. I’d waited long enough for Rewi so we could go to the market together, and for that reason, I walked alone toward the town center of Credenta, my hometown.

My mood was declining rapidly, even though I enjoyed the peace of an early morning on a normal day, but nothing could change how much it annoyed me that I’d been stood up by my best friend.

“Nayana! Wait for me!”

A wave of relief washed over me. Rewi hadn’t forgotten about me, she was just very late. Since I wasn’t one to hold grudges, I turned around and witnessed my best friend running down the cobblestone street as if Noelk—the warden godling of the gates to the underworld—was chasing her. She was out of breath from catching up when she finally stopped in front of me.

“Rewi. Please don’t die. I’d rather have you late than dead.” I grinned at her and, as usual, pulled lightly at her thick, black braid falling over her back. Her dark brown eyes stared at me—half amused, half annoyed—and she scowled.

“Stop pulling my hair. What are you, five?”