Chapter Text
“I don't want to become a soldier.”
The car is speeding along. Essun turns her gaze back inside. She is twelve years old today, and for once, her parents are together. Her father, who had been talking with her mother just a moment ago, has stopped speaking.
“Why?” her father asks.
“Gul…” her mother begins.
“No, Elisa, let me talk to her.”
Elisa doesn’t press the matter further. Essun stares at her mother for a moment—this beautiful, noble woman she knows little about but from whom she has inherited her features: her blond hair, her sharp-featured face, her skin paler than average. People are starting to call her beautiful—just like her. Yet her mother no longer offers her any support.
“I don’t want to leave,” Essun tries to explain.
“You don’t have to leave,” her father says, with a hint of surprise.
“Into space,” the girl explains. “I don’t want to leave you, and I don’t want to risk losing you.”
Elisa’s expression changes, and she wraps an arm around her daughter.
“Oh, Essun… Are you thinking about your stepfather?”
Essun nods imperceptibly, not wanting to answer with a clear “yes.” She barely knows this man whose name she bears, but just like that name, her whole life revolves around him.
“We don’t entrust dangerous tasks to children,” her father says.
He leans forward, and his gaze meets his daughter’s—the same blue.
“Two years,” he reminds his daughter. “Nothing is forcing you to leave Gamilas, nor to join the military afterward.”
Her mother’s hand loosens its protective grip. Essun tilts her head to the other side, barely sad—and yet so very much so.
“I won’t be in any danger…?”
“No, Essun.” “I don’t know where you’ll be stationed, but you might not be far from us, and you’ll be able to come back regularly.”
Essun looks up. Her mother has stepped back; she’s smiling absently.
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“Really?” her father says with a sincere smile.
“I’d really like to go into space.”
Her father begins to list her options. Essun forces herself to listen, noting that her mother hasn’t said a word. The car finally pulls up in front of the Domel residence. Elisa grabs her hat and checks her daughter’s dress. Her father holds the car door open for them as they get out. As she stands beside him, he takes Essun’s hand.
“Are you ready?”
Essun lifts her head and stands on tiptoe, trying to make herself a little taller. Even so, she barely reaches his shoulder, and feels all the more like a child in that frilly red dress and with that ribbon in her blond hair.
“I don’t know.”
Her father smiles at her, squeezing her hand tighter. The night is beautiful and warm; they stand in silence beneath the stars, bathed in the glow of their twin world. He understands—that’s all.
“You look just like your sister,” he says suddenly. “When she was your age. The situation was different, of course, but she, too, grew up fast because her mother wasn't around.”
Essun feels her eyes sting. She always knew her mother behaved strangely, but this was the first time anyone say it outright. Her father leans down to embrace her.
“You’re just as strong as she is,” he whispers.
With a knowing look, he tugs at the knot in her long hair to wrap it around her wrist like a bracelet, lightly ruffling her blonde locks. The young girl laughs before agreeing to follow her father inside.
As soon as she enters, she and her father are separated. Most of the guests are her mother’s friends. They look at her, compliment her, and this time in particular, Essun feels like a trained dog. Almost an hour later, her sister grabs her and drags her into another room: a small sitting room that locks. Exceptionally, his wife, Yurisha, is there with Liria, their six-year-old daughter, and Sasha, who had turned thirteen a few months earlier. The two teenagers are thrilled to see each other again. She and her cousins catch up on the time that has passed until an impossible hour. Essun is practically asleep when she hears Melda suggest to their father that she stay the night. She’s barely there when Melda changes her and her cousins, and she falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow.
She wakes up in the morning in Sasha’s bed, with no desire to get out of it. Melda comes to wake them up at eight o’clock sharp. The two teenagers dash to the bathroom to wash their faces and brush their teeth and comb out their long hair—both of them have blonde hair. They then meet in the living room, “just us girls,” for breakfast consisting of warm, sweet pastries with cold cream.
“Try it,” Yurisha says to her in the perfect Iscandarian used in their household. “You’ll see, it’s delicious.”
Essun finally takes a bite, and despite the texture and appearance, which seem strange at first glance, Yurisha was right—it’s very good.
“Dad told me about your service,” Melda says to her.
Essun nods. Her sister then asks her what she wants to do. The young girl thinks for a moment, fiddling with the ribbon still tied around her wrist, before telling her what she’s decided.
She quickly returns to their father’s house. Melda shows her how to pack a few belongings into the single bag she’s allowed to take. Three black T-shirts, two plain pairs of pants, socks, underwear, a toothbrush, and a hairbrush. Melda asks her if she wants to take a personal item. Essun looks around and finally picks out a book she loves. Her sister smiles at her before pulling out a hologram projector showing a scene from her birthday—with Sasha, Liria, and her laughing—and slipping it, along with the ribbon, into the bottom of the bag.
“May they bring you good luck,” her sister said, handing her back the bag.
On the sixth day after her birthday, someone came to tell Essun that there was a spot for her. She spent a little time with her family.
“Come back soon,” Sasha said. “I’ll miss you.”
Essun hugged her back. Her cousin was a little older but didn’t have to perform any service duties: she would be the future queen, and her daily life already closely resembled what Essun would experience. Essun didn’t envy her.
Her mother was the last to kiss her. The gesture felt a little awkward, but Essun appreciated this.
“Goodbye, Essun.”
“Goodbye, Mom.”
Essun is housed in a dormitory with three other girls, all of whom are twelve-year-old Gamilons: Reven, who has blue skin like her; Ora, who is of Alterian descent; and Adelina, who is a Saltzi. For the first few days, their schedule is the same, designed to help them discover each other’s abilities. The mornings are just as she expected, and the afternoons feel like a normal school day. As the days go by, the classes are reorganized according to their respective skill levels. Essun finds herself growing to appreciate her daily routine. She knows that reality has nothing to do with the simulations, but she wonders more and more seriously if it might be possible. As for Adee, who understands mechanics, she is quickly assigned a few hours a day in the engine room to learn. Ora is primarily interested in history and politics, while Reven is the one in their little group who understands the sciences best.
“Do you think they ranked us based on what?” Reven asks one lunchtime.
“By our birthdates,” Adee replies immediately.
The next day, Ora secretly brings a sheet of paper and a pen to the dining hall, and they have fun comparing their ages according to the Gamilon calendar. Ora is the oldest, having been born six days before Reven. Adee is fourteen days younger than Reven. Essun is the youngest, another six days behind Adee.
“Essun is our baby,” Adee teases, without a hint of malice. “Essun, Essie.”
Essun laughs, nestled against her friend’s shoulder, whose ponytail tickles her face. The nickname is funny, and it sounds more like “saltzi” than “gamilon.”
The first call home takes place two months after their arrival. Knowing she can only contact one person at home, Essun chooses her father. He asks her if she’s happy, and she tells him about her friends.
“Time flies, but I miss you and Melda, and Mom,” she adds hastily.
He smiles at her.
“I miss you too, Essun.”
With a smile, she rolls up her sleeve, showing him the ribbon she’s tied to her wrist with a hairpin—much more discreet under her sleeve than any bow.
“I remember that night,” she says. “Melda hoped it would bring me good luck.”
The remark amuses him.
“Red has always been your sister’s favorite color. It suits you well, too.”
Essun nods, smiling. The conversation continues for a few minutes before they have to say goodbye.