The tone in my father’s voice brings me out of my revelry of the weeks past, and harshly back to reality. I sit in a park, on a beautifully crafted bench overlooking the oasis created by the skilled gardeners of the Encante, and I see none of it. Instead I sit thinking of what next I will do to find thrill or enjoyment. My father puts a stop to that. He rarely ventures outside the Great Hall anymore, and even rarer is his seeking me out. I have become somewhat of a boon to him. My rebel ways are the black mark on an otherwise perfect family, and he is none to pleased to pass the time with me. So, why is he seeking me out? I did not wonder long.
“You have been summoned Jason,” he says gravely.
“Summoned? By whom?” I say lazily, feigning a nonchalance I am not feeling. My father seeking me out, informing me I am summoned could only mean one thing. I am in trouble, big trouble.
“Do not play games with me son. You know well who has summoned you. The Elders.” He practically spits it out, “Your family connection, and slippery tongue are not likely to get you out of this one.” His face is wrinkled and sagging as if the weight of expectation, and the burden of my shame is causing the skin to hang, to sag. His eyes hold hurt that runs deep.
Now I am very worried. I have been before the Elders before, at least some of them, on several different occasions, but being my Grandfather’s grandson has saved me from any real reproof. I have been punished, forced to spend countless hours with some of the elect in the community in order to learn their ways. However, never before has my Father look so concerned.
“What do you mean?” I ask hesitantly, not certain I want an answer.
“I mean you are having a full hearing, one without anyone in your Grandfather’s bloodline present, an occurrence unheard of in our society. A mark on our family’s name so dark, we may not recover. Your mother, even now, is formally resigning from her position in government. I hope you are proud, you have done it this time.” He says as he turns his back and starts striding in the general direction of the Great Hall. He looks back over his shoulder, his eyes dark with worry, “Come. Now.” The words short, clipped, a command, barely retaining the fury he is clearly feeling.
Resigning? Full hearing? What had I done? I know I have broken the rules, several times in fact, I have been doing so for years. But, what have I done that warrants a full hearing, and the resignation of my mother, a woman who has lived to serve? I am baffled, and terrified. The pit of dread in my stomach has started as a small tingle of worry and is now full blown, it spreads through my limbs, making it nearly impossible for me to focus and keep up with the long, powerful strides of my father.
I would not have been surprised if all 2000 of our race were at the Great Hall waiting and watching as I approach. I try to swallow the pit in my throat, but choke on my own saliva. The scorn in the eyes of the onlookers would not have bothered me so much had I did not see the disappointment in my mother and my father’s countenances. I know over the years that I have let them down, not becoming the great, intellectual, and responsible citizen they had hoped I would be. However, that is the one thing they have always had until now—hope! It is clearly lost to them now. My dread rises exponentially as I cross the threshold into the commons room. All activity ceases, and every eye turns to me. Not a sound is heard, unless you could count my heartbeat that is thrumming in my ears. I look around to see if anyone else can hear it too. I am sure everyone in the hall can.
When we reach the reception area a young boto looks up at me from a large walnut desk, and feigns not to know my reason for being here, though it is obvious to all that there isn’t a soul that doesn’t know.
“Can I help you?” She asks in a cheery tone, as she transforms into human form, mirroring the form myself and my parents are in.
“I doubt it,” I respond, I try to sound off hand, but I am caught off guard by how attractive she is. I know subconsciously that she must spend the majority of her time in boto form, as I would not have missed her before now. This thought flits out of my mind as quickly as it enter is, the seriousness of my situation leaves no room for anything else, even the admiration of the female form, no matter how fine the specimen.
Her lips purse, and her eyebrows scrunch together, and she looks down her perfectly straight nose at me and says in an icy tone, “Kyson Drake, I presume. Follow me. The rest of you, stay here.” She turns and starts down a long, pristinely clean hallway. My glib comment causes her to drop the act, and the warmth that I initially saw has been snuffed out as she ices over.
She is indubitably not impressed with my quick wit, or unusually fair looks. All Encantado are fair skinned, but I have hair that borders on white, and pale blue eyes that are distinct, and lighter than any other of our race. I have a thick set of black lashes that are my most striking feature. I have always been somewhat proud of that distinction, but today, I fell like I stick out like a sore thumb, and my light coloring and dark lashes mark me even more as the proverbial “black sheep.” I sigh and follow her down the corridor.
She leads me to a chair at the end of a dark paneled corridor, and leaves with strict instructions to stay put. I stare straight ahead, not really seeing the thick carpet, rich upholstery, or ornate lamp in the small waiting area I sit in. I wrack my brain to pinpoint the transgression that landed me here.
Terror overtakes my mind, and all I can do is think back to my last time at home, when I had sat in my living area and thought about our stable, perfect society before escaping back to the variable society of the human world.
The creak of a large wooden door startles me out of my thoughts, and back to the reality I face…I am to face the counsel of Elders, the most respected members of our society, and be held accountable for my actions. I am here to be judged, and the little human who walks out to retrieve me is the messenger, a veritable servant of the counsel of Elders, here to tell me I am needed.
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