The Calling: A Slow Burn YA Dystopian Fantasy Novel, page 1
The Calling
Copyright © 2023 by L.C. Pye
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contact Info: www.authorl.c.pye@gmail.com
Front Cover Design by : Selkkie Designs
Editor : E&A Editing Services
ISBN: 979-8-9879746-1-2
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Dedicated to everyone who has struggled to find their place to belong. To find their calling.
Contents
1. Prologue Spring
2. Chapter 1 Autumn
3. Chapter 2
4. Chapter 3
5. Chapter 4
6. Chapter 5
7. Chapter 6
8. Chapter 7
9. Chapter 8
10. Chapter 9
11. Chapter 10
12. Chapter 11
13. Chapter 12
14. Chapter 13
15. Chapter 14
16. Chapter 15
17. Chapter 16
18. Chapter 17
19. Chapter 18
20. Chapter 19
21. Chapter 20
22. Chapter 21
23. Chapter 22
24. Chapter 23
25. Chapter 24
26. Chapter 25
27. Chapter 26
28. Chapter 27
29. Chapter 28
30. Chapter 29
31. Chapter 30
32. Chapter 31
33. Chapter 32
The Finding
Chapter 1
Acknowledgments
About Author
Prologue Spring
Talia
“Please, not again,” I muttered under my breath.
Crouched and hiding in the shadows of a Merchant’s two-story home, I glanced up at the sun, checking the time. I needed to hurry or I’d be late. And then Jules would never forgive me. I scanned the next line of houses to make sure the area was clear of villagers.
The wind cut through my cloak. It was a welcome feeling as sweat trickled down my back. My cheeks were flushed. And my pale face was most likely covered with red splotches. The taste of salt invaded my senses as I licked my cracked lips. I was so close to safety. I could see the archway in front of me.
I would normally avoid cutting through another calling’s quarters, but I was late and this was the quickest way to the penta. Plus most of the Merchants should already be in the penta for the ceremony since it was mandatory, yet I could see blurry shapes of some still making their way toward the archway. I hoped they were far enough away that they wouldn’t notice me. I couldn’t afford to get stopped by irritable Merchants who found their entertainment through bullying me.
I peered around one of the homes and checked to see if it was clear before sprinting out from the safety of the shadows toward the next line of houses, which marked the end of the Merchant’s quarter.
As my fingers touched the shaded house, I exhaled. Only a few more houses and I’d be safe inside the boundaries of the penta—the neutral zone. I could even make out the elevated platform in the center, built specifically for today’s ceremony. One more sprint and I’d be there.
I was about to push off the house, focusing on the archway leading into the penta, when Jules stepped underneath the arch, waving her arms at me. I threw my weight forward and shot off the wall as fast as I could.
“Tals, watch out!” Jules shrieked, but I was too slow to register her warning.
Something hard hit the side of my leg causing me to fall face-first. I caught myself, though a burning sensation radiated through the palms of my hands and my knees.
“Watch where you’re going!” a harsh, deep voice barked out.
“It’s not her fault you don’t know how to steer,” Jules hissed. She was already by my side helping me back to my feet.
“She’s the one not paying attention,” a young Merchant sneered. He stood next to a wheeled cart full of supplies. I must have run in front of him and his friend as they were pushing it toward the archway. They were only a few years older than Jules and me.
“Kalem, relax. No harm was done,” the friend next to him whispered, very obviously checking out Jules in her white ceremonial garments, which contrasted beautifully against her olive skin and her long, wavy chestnut hair. He attempted to give her a flirtatious wink. That alone warranted an eye roll from me.
“I don’t care if there was no harm. This delinquent should apologize for almost destroying our supplies,” Kalem grumbled.
Jules stepped in front of me, clenching her firsts. “What did you call her?”
“Jules, it was my fault.” I placed a hand on her shoulder, so she wouldn’t punch this guy in the face. It wouldn’t be the first time she hurt someone on my behalf. I turned toward the two young Merchants. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“See, she apologized. Now we can all go on our way.” The friend gave Kalem a pointed look before returning his eyes to Jules.
“Fine. Let’s go.” Kalem pushed the cart forward. “Before she contaminates us,” he muttered to his friend, but the friend lingered.
“I hope to see you around,” he said with a bow of his head toward Jules before following Kalem.
Jules was still glaring daggers at the two young men, unfazed by the friend who’d been flirting with her. His flirting was harmless because it would never go anywhere. No one from his calling would ever allow him to pursue her. People from different callings never mixed.
“I could have taken him,” Jules stated, releasing her clenched fists.
“He was harmless. The friend was too concerned about making a good impression on you to let him do anything.”
“What?” Jules released her gaze to look at me. She never understood how her beauty and curves hypnotized the young men in Gasmere. I didn't envy her one bit though. I would rather have them see me as less than dirt than an object of desire to be won.
“Nevermind.” I said with a shake of my head. “Plus, if you fight every person who’s treated me unfairly, you’d end up fighting the whole village,” I said, giving her a slight nudge with my shoulder.
“You shouldn’t let them speak to you like that.”
“It will all change after my ceremony,” I asserted, though it was more like a prayer.
Some days it felt like the animosity towards me would never change. That no matter what calling I chose, the villagers would only ever treat me as an outcast. I would never be seen as one of them, never find my place to belong.
Bang!
Jules and I stared at each other, as the sound echoed around us. We knew exactly what it meant. The ceremony was starting.
And Jules was going to be late.
Pushing her in front of me, we both sprinted our way through the archway toward the platform, dodging countless people. Before we reached it, I grabbed Jules by the arm and hugged her. After pulling away, I watched her as she ascended the platform, joining those who would be choosing their calling today. They were all identical in their flowy, long-sleeved tunics that came down past their knees, and their tight-fitted trousers. My eyes stung from the sun reflecting off of the mass of white in front of me.
“You don’t belong here,” an older Hunter barked as I flinched. “Go find your calling.”
Before he could say or do more, I walked away from the platform. I didn’t have a calling, not really anyway. My ceremony wouldn’t happen until autumn.
Each year there were two calling ceremonies, one in spring and the other in autumn. Those without one stayed under their parent’s calling until they turned eighteen. With my unique situation, I had learned the ways of both the Healers and the Farmers, but since our house resided in the Farmer’s quarter, I went to stand amongst a sea of brown on the other side of the platform. The section designated to the Farmers.
To get there I had to walk around the other four callings. The platform was in the middle with the callings making a semi-circle around it. I was already on the outskirts of the countless villagers in green, the Hunters' section, and was crossing behind the Healers. Eyes still followed me as I tried my best to stay unseen. I focused on the ground in front of me, but their whispers still made it to my ears.
“There she is,” a woman sneered.
“She better not be thinking about choosing us as her calling in the autumn,” another woman spoke out in a louder voice.
Unable to stop myself, I gazed up, to see two young women in blue staring at me with disgust. I recognized them. They had their calling ceremony last autumn. They were both Healers. I looked back to the ground and quickened my steps, leaving the Healers section. It would do nothing to talk back to them, it would only encourage them to ridicule me more.
I passed by the Merchants and Artists section with no incident, making it to the crowd of Farmers. It didn’t take me long to spot Father in the crowd. There was a wide berth around him.
“Talia,” he yelled, waving me over.
I gave him a small smile, but I didn’t join him. Instead, I stayed closer to the front of the section. I peered over my shoulder to find Father still trained on me. He dipped his head forward, with a genuine smile on his face.
The target on my back wasn’t solely from my looks and the fact that I was friends with a Hunter, which was outside of the norm. Intermingling between callings didn’t happen. There had always been, and would probably always be, a great divide between the five. No, the real reason every villager treated me like dirt was because everything about my life was different. I reflected change and that bothered the people of Gasmere. My appearance not resembling either of my parents alone raised many red flags for people, but the real issue came from my parent's callings. They were not of the same. Father was a Farmer and Mother was a Healer. They were the only ones in our village who had mixed, and, because of that, the villagers of Gasmere didn’t accept us. This disapproval of my family was the only thing that unified all the callings.
My parents never seemed to be bothered that others had shunned them. They were happy with their decision to marry outside of their callings. They had known their lives would be more difficult because of it, but made the choice anyway. Yet, I didn’t get to decide as they had. I loved both of my parents, but their decision made it impossible for me to find a place to belong. To become anything other than the village outcast.
“Today, we celebrate those who are making the paramount decision of which calling they will belong to from this point forward,” a loud voice boomed over the mass of people, silencing my thoughts. The speaker raised his hands and the crowd cheered. He waited until everyone quieted down before he continued. “It’s a joyous day that will mark the beginning of their newfound future.”
I didn’t need to see past the mass of people to know that the speaker was Jules’s father, Elder Henry Varnier. He was one of the Elders for the Hunters. Every calling had two Elders who represented them, and Jules’s mother, Eliza, happened to be the other Elder for the Hunters. Peering around the man in front of me, I spotted both of Jules’s parents next to each other while the remaining eight Elders stood in a semi-circle around the platform, my mother included.
The Elders were tasked with keeping the peace within their own calling as well as communicating with each other. They also enforced the laws of Landore by making sure everyone who turned eighteen went through with the calling ceremony.
“The calling is vital in creating peace for Landore, and in turn, Gasmere. It is our duty to uphold this practice and take great pride in our callings,” Jules’s father continued, drawing everyone’s attention to where five large bowls sat on white pedestals.
I glanced over at Jules and had to bite back a laugh when I noticed the glazed look in her eyes as she drowned out her father’s speech about how from this day on, those standing on the platform would leave behind their old life and find their new identity in the calling they choose.
Jules’s mother then invited each young person, one by one, to step up to a bowl and declare their calling. There were around eighty initiates standing there, and each bowl was filled with a different color of dye representing each calling.
The first young man stepped up to the bowl. I knew him. His family was a part of the Healers. His face was stoic, but I could see the gleam of pride in his eyes when he lifted his hands from the bowl, holding up his now blue-dyed fingertips, signifying his choice. The section of Healers erupted in cheers. They clapped him on the back as he officially joined their ranks. A pang in my chest made it hard to breathe. Would I be received like that when I choose? The next person walked up and went through the same process revealing gray-dyed fingertips for the Merchants.
I sighed as the next three all revealed green fingertips for the Hunters. I had hoped to see at least one person show off yellow-dyed fingertips for the Artists. It had been years since someone chose that calling, but the majority so far had picked the Hunters. The Hunter calling was the biggest in Gasmere and also the wealthiest. They held the most power in our village, which meant Jules’s parents were the two most powerful people in all of Gasmere.
A gasp in the crowd brought my mind back to what was happening in front of me. A gangly-looking man was standing between two bowls, frozen. Elder Eliza was off to the side whispering something to him, probably trying to coax him to choose. But the commotion only grew as one of the King’s Guard advanced toward the stage.
The King’s Guard only left the king’s palace in Llycia on the days of the calling ceremonies. Their job at the ceremony was to ensure that every eighteen-year-old chose a calling. If someone failed to show up for the ceremony (which I had never seen before) or failed to choose a calling, the King’s Guard would step in. That person would then become the property of the king and be taken to an unknown location. There they would spend the rest of their days serving the king. And no one knew for sure what that entailed.
When the guard stepped onto the platform, the man glanced up. He ran forward, nearly knocking the bowl over, and dunked his fingers into the Hunter’s bowl. A few cheers trickled through the crowd but most stayed silent, watching the guard return to his post. Twelve of them formed a circle around the platform.
The man walked down the stairs toward the Hunters. They didn’t congratulate him like they had with the others. I didn’t recognize him, but from the lack of reaction from the Hunters, I assumed he had switched callings. Which would be a big deal. It was rarely done, since the young man would have to give up everything he had ever known to become a Hunter. The strong prejudice between the five also prevented many from choosing one outside their family’s. A cry from the Merchant’s section confirmed my theory. It seemed that the reason he’d taken so long was that he was still deciding if he should stay with the calling he grew up in or join a different one.
My heart tightened as the cries grew louder, and I scanned the crowd for Father. I would have to make that same decision in six short months. Many would assume that I would choose the Farmers or the Healers, but it wasn’t that easy. The two callings I had grown up in, the ones that should embrace me, had never accepted me. And from the looks and cruel whispers from those of each, I doubted they would, even if I chose them. The only reason I entertained the idea of choosing outside those two was because of Jules. She promised me that, regardless of the animosity between the callings, I would be accepted by the Hunters. The only problem was if I chose the Hunters so Jules and I could be together, I would have to abandon my parents.
“Please, step forward.” Elder Henry motioned for the next person in line to proceed, as though nothing had occurred. I silently prayed that it wouldn’t be too hard for that young man to become accepted by the other Hunters. Although Jules has said that the Hunters have a tough initiation for their calling.
The line kept moving. Everyone else chose the calling they grew up in. Jules was the last person to step forward. Her smile deepened as I gave her a reassuring wave. I was happy for her, but watching her reminded me that things would change after today. She had promised me that they wouldn’t, but I didn’t see how that would be possible. Without hesitation, Jules elegantly sauntered up to the Hunter’s bowl and dipped her fingers in. Her brown eyes shone with excitement.
Jules had always known she belonged with the Hunters. Since the age of five, when she first picked up a bow, she knew she wanted to be a Hunter. In all the years I had known Jules, she never failed at getting what she wanted. The Hunter’s section exploded with cheers for her, much louder than for anyone else.
As I watched her, I imagined it was me the other Hunters were cheering for, that it was my back they were patting, welcoming me to their calling.
But would they actually accept me? How could Jules get a whole calling to welcome me as their own?
Father’s large frame came into view, as he walked toward me. “Let’s go save your mother before Elder Cyrus talks her ear off,” he said, throwing an arm around my shoulder and directing me deeper through the crowds.
