Essence of Freedom by Emily Menell {Inklings Book Contest 2022 Finalist}

Today we are featuring Inklings Book Contest 2022 finalist Emily Menell. Emily finished 8th grade this past school year and wrote a story called “Essence of Freedom.” Our judge said that Emily built “a lovely, intriguing world of magic and magical creatures.” Enjoy!

 

ESSENCE OF FREEDOM
By Emily Menell

Every day, there comes a time when the forest thunders. 

When the crash overcomes the trill of the birds and the rustle of wind beneath a sparrow’s wings, when the dark plume of smoke explodes from the undergrowth. When the Nightlings trample the grasses of the meadows, Essence cuffs in hand and on the hunt for their next Salvage. No one knows when they’ll come, but the crash is the only warning we need to hide. 

Many Gifted of the forest say that once upon a time, the trees and brush were quiet and peaceful, and one day, they will be again.

But that day is not today.

Just like before, the sounds of the forest fell silent. Just like before, the clouds seemed to cover the sun, starving the mossy grounds of warmth and light. Just like before, a bang shrouded my ears in thunder and a stark gray plume sprouted up high, only for the wind to whisk it away. And just like before, I sprinted into the leaves, calling the vines and the peonies to cover my path.

But the thorns and branches can only do so much to block the heaving breaths and soft whimpers of a wounded girl, and this time, unlike before, I wasn’t so lucky.

I crouch in the darkness of the bundle of stems and grasses, hugging my knees and gritting my teeth against the pain in my leg. The gash on my shin runs deep, and the thorn in my hand is covered in a ghastly, sickly red. My heart beats in my chest so hard I can hear it, and I lean against the vines, closing my eyes and exhaling the breath I’ve kept in. Images of the smoke and camouflaged clothing of the Nightlings flash before my eyes, closer, closer, and I tuck my head between my knees, letting the darkness carry me to calm. My ragged breathing evens out.

And then I hear it. Rrrrrrrrrrrr SHUCK. Rrrrrr SHUCK. I sit up, alert, my eyes darting around my bubble. Whirrrrrrr SHUCK! There it is again! My heart rate picks up, my breathing quickens, and my body tenses, ready to run. What’s going on? Rrrrrrr SHUCK!

Over and over again, until the sound becomes familiar, and I let my body relax. It’s probably just a young woodpecker against a tree or a ground squirrel scuttering along an oak log. I slump against the sturdy walls, and brush my long brown hair behind my shoulder, taking a deep breath. I tenderly unwrap a layer of the bandage that curls around my wrist, smoothing it out bit by bit, before laying it on my broken skin. Although I can’t stop the red from blossoming on the cream-colored fabric, I tie the ribbon behind my bleeding leg. 

I’m still nursing my wounds when a beam of light fills the small space, illuminating the leaves and flower buds on the vines of my cocoon. I raise my forearm to my eyes, squinting in the bright morning glow, making out the shape of a tall figure reaching out to me. Have I been saved? Blinking slowly, I fall onto my hands and knees, crawling closer to my rescuer, allowing my vines to slither back into the ground and the copse of trees around me to thin. I’m safe, I’m free, the smoke and noise is gone. But then I notice the dark uniform, the slicked back hair, the jeering grin.

“Hello, little Brightling.”

I leap back, nearly tripping and tumbling onto the mossy ground. A Nightling! How did he find me, and how did he know what I was? I stumble further into the forest, tugging at my Essence to protect me once more. But nothing comes, save for a sapling and a row of brambles. My eyes widen, and I pivot, hearing the heavy footsteps of him behind me. Without a second glance, I sprint into the thicket, past the thorns and violets and into the shaded undergrowth of the pines, my tracker following close behind.

My heart thunders in my chest as I leap over bushes and swing on the branches overhead, blood rushing in my ears and twigs cracking beneath my feet. I try to call my Essence again, but it refuses, only sprouting a small patch of daisies in my wake. My feet pound against the matted grass, a constant drum spurring me forward.

I dash to the right, dipping around the rough trunk of a tall spruce wood, and burst back into the sunlight. A ring of pines surrounds me, and wildflowers pop up between the cracks in the earth. The clouds have parted, allowing the sun to shine and warm the world as it begins its descent. The sky is tinged with pink and orange, a watercolor overhead. 

But I’m not safe yet. The crack of a fallen branch reverberates through my ears, and I whip around towards the forest as the limbs of the trees bend and twist. I don’t have much time. I close my eyes, blocking off my senses one by one, and reach down inside. But there’s nothing. I grope for the familiar glow of my Essence, but my fingers find no hold. The sound grows louder, stronger, the crackling of branches and swish-swash of the leaves. My attacker has arrived.

“Come here, little Brightling. Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you.” The look on his face tells me otherwise, and I scramble back, putting my arms in front of my face. There’s nothing I can do, I’m done for. I’m dead, I’m—there.

A glimmer of forest green. A tingle in my finger tips. A spot of flame, growing deep inside. And that ember becomes a roar, and my Essence explodes to life, ready at my command. 

Pines and Birch explode out of the new spring ground, reaching for the tree tops and blocking the Nightling from view. Vines spotted with pastel blossoms weave around the trunks, filling every space with color and safety. Brambles line the edges of the circle, sharp and unforgiving, as my Spirit Flame flows up to the sky, green as the undergrove. 

My breaths heave in and out, and I let myself lower to the ground. The Nightling is gone, and I’m safe … really, truly, safe. I tilt my head towards the sky as the stars wink into existence one by one and the sun fades below the horizon. The birds sing their evening song from high above, and I nestle among the asters and the goldenrod. The golden light surrounds me, and the breeze tickles my hair. But sleep has other plans, and my eyes finally close.

♦ ♦ ♦

I wake with a sore on my wrists and a pain in my head, and gray fills my vision as my eyes blink open. Where am I? What am I doing? And why does my leg hurt so badly?

Suddenly, the memories of last night flood my head. The Nightling, the chase! But I’m not in a meadow anymore. I don’t know where I am anymore!

I twist around, looking at my surroundings. Four steel walls rise up next to me, and a roof blocks the sky. I can’t hear anything, not the whistle of wind, nor the chatter of robins. I try to reach out with my Essence, searching for the smallest sound, but there’s nothing except for a sharp pain in my fingers. I peer down at my hands, and startle when I see a pair of purple bracelets crackling with energy. Essence cuffs.

But why? Essence cuffs are only used by Nightlings bringing back Salvage…

A sharp bump jostles me out of my thoughts and back into the moment. What’s going on? I hug my knees close to my chest, and rock myself side to side. I just have to wait it out. Then I’ll be safe. I slump to my side, the cool metal a small relief. Darkness begins to crowd my head, the anticipation of the unknown too great to bear. I push them out, but it’s no use. They just keep coming.

♦ ♦ ♦

It’s impossible to tell how much time passed until we stopped. I sit up at the change in speed, trying to push out my Essence once more. But the pain only grows. Sighing, I examine my sparse surroundings for what must be the eighth time, finding nothing new. I slowly return to my position, but then something catches my eye.

A sliver of light between two panels shines back at me, begging to be released and flood the world with warmth, and I can’t help but oblige. I crawl towards the opening on my hands and knees, and jam my shoulder against the steel. Nothing comes loose, but I can’t give up. This could be my key to freedom. I pull back, readying myself to rush again. One…two…three! 

I brace for impact against the cold, metal wall, but it never comes. Instead, I feel the ground disappear from underneath me and find myself sprawled against a road of asphalt, my cheeks burning.

I spring up, my breathing quick and my eyes darting around my new environment. Trucks line the walls, and figures carry heavy boxes to a metal staircase. I gasp. What am I?

A finger lightly taps on my shoulder, and I whip around, unable to stop my eyes from widening. A man in a dark uniform stares back at me, a smirk playing across his face. But I’ve seen that face…it’s the Nightling! Before I can say anything, his hand flies out, grabbing my wrist.

“What are you doing?!” My heart beats faster in my chest as the Nightling pivots and begins to drag me to the metal staircase along the wall. “Let me go! What’s going on?!”

He stops, and turns to face me. “Listen, young lady,” he says, his tone serious and condescending, “the way I see it, you have two choices.” Smiling, he holds up a finger. “One, you die. Right here. Right now.” My mouth drops open, and he sneers. “Or you come with me. Your choice.” 

But there is no choice, is there? I look up to face him, but I can’t keep the despair from showing in my eyes. He already knows my answer.

And so we continue, up the stairs and through winding hallways lined with flickering lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. The stark white trim blurs in my vision, and I trip over my feet when the Nightling finally stops. 

In front of me lies a space unlike any I’ve ever seen: adults and children alike dressed in colorful jumpsuits mill about, eating and talking. It would’ve been a welcome sight, if not for the barred rooms lining the walls and the dark Nightlings watching over the procession. I look closer at the children, and what I see makes my blood run cold.

Each child is equipped with an Essence Cuff.

“I trust that you’ll fit right in. Won’t you…?” He gazes at me expectantly, head tilted to the side.

“Sage.”

“Well, in any case, Sage,” he says, mimicking my meek voice, “welcome to your new home.”

♦ ♦ ♦

I grunt, lifting the sack of rice over my shoulder as sweat beads on my brow. It’s only been two weeks here, but I’ve already been put to work. From my first day in The Drain, I’ve been rushed from task to task, my only break in the middle of the night. The night that now holds no stars and no cicadas in the wind. But I have no time to focus on my former world. I need to survive.

I carefully set my cargo down, wiping my face with the sleeve of my pale violet jumpsuit. Sighing, I reach into my pocket, pulling out a crinkled piece of paper lined with instructions and commands, and check off my final task. Finally, I’m done. 

I return the list to its rightful place, and pull my now-short hair into a tight bun, ready to set off towards the cafeteria. I stroll past the stark cells, the water stations, the crowds of Gifted and the occasional Nightlings who’ve now become a familiar sight. Shoves and jabs don’t come as a surprise anymore, and neither does the muted noise that floods my ears, a constant reminder of who I am. I rub my Essence cuffs, but slowly bring my hands back to my sides. There’s nothing I can do.

Suddenly, the tall walls of the cafeteria loom overhead, and I slide through the doors, pulling out my task list as I approach the Nightling standing guard. I timidly hold it out to them, and they snatch it from my hands. They bring it under the low light of their desk before stashing it inside a drawer.

“Carry on, kid,” they drawl, bored, and motion to the next in line to come forward. I step towards the stone countertops, and pick up the nearest portion, inspecting my dinner. A small pile of mashed potatoes with chicken scraps. Not enough to keep us in good health, but enough to keep us alive.

Sighing, I begin the long trek back to my cell, weaving through the crowd of Gifted hoping to get a quick evening meal. But then I hear the screaming. 

“Dirty Essenced!” I spin around on my heel, spying a cursing Nightling clutching her bleeding forearm with a murderous glare in her eyes. “Let this be a lesson to the rest of you Gifted,” she spits. The Nightling wraps her gloved hands around the offender’s limp leg. “Those who dare defy us will be met with a quick punishment, and a quicker death.” She hauls the Gifteds’ body through the whispering crowd and around the corner, and even without my Essence of Sound, I can still hear her yells and shouts. I gulp, but there’s nothing I can do.

I slowly make my way back to my cell, typing in the lock code and flopping face down on my cot, letting my mind drift. How did I get here? Only two weeks ago, I was swinging between the trees and weaving through the undergrowth, free. But now… I hold back a scream, smashing my face into the tiny pillow that rests at the top of the bed. I may as well volunteer to go to the Lab for all the good this life of waiting has to offer. Because what’s a life without the sun? Without the wind? The birds and the squirrels, and the sounds and life of the world?

I groan, releasing my pent up breath. My memories plague me, too painful to remember but too treasured to let go. I’m so deep in the past that I almost don’t hear Ember come in. Almost.

My red-headed roommate jumps onto her cot, and pulls out her meal kit. She tears off the flimsy plastic wrapping, and scoops a spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth, before looking at me expectantly, a smile dancing across her face. “Aren’t you gonna join me?”

I can’t help but return her grin, pulling out my dinner. I can still remember Ember on our first day at The Drain, her fiery personality so different from my own. But when we were assigned to the same cell, we became fast friends, bonding over our shared hardships and stories. 

“Have you changed your mind?” I look up, startled at the sound of her voice, and it takes me a moment to remember what she means. “We could escape…rally up the others and fight our way through…” she trails off, but I know what comes next.

“You know I can’t,” I say, tearing my gaze away. I can’t let her see me like this…vulnerable, raw, unsure.

Ember leans forward. “But why?”

“I—”

My response is cut off by a sharp crackle from overhead. I search for the source of the sound, and it doesn’t take long to find. “Hello, Essenced.” The small speaker in the corner of our cell carries a message, and we freeze. This can’t be good. “Due to recent numbers and salvage, we have reached the decision to double the Takings. If you do not comply, you will be met with physical force. Thank you. That is all.”

Silence fills the space between us as the message sets in. Double the Takings? Double the number of Gifted kidnapped and brought to the Lab? This…this can’t be happening. 

Suddenly, my dinner doesn’t seem so appetizing. I return my gaze to meet Embers, but there’s something new—something dark—in her eyes. Fear. And I don’t have to speak to know what she’s thinking. Escaping is our only option.

♦ ♦ ♦

It’s the middle of the night when the hands wrap around my arms. I don’t have time to gasp before I’m pulled away from my cot and whisked out of my cell. What’s happening? My eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, and my heart begins to thunder in my chest. I’m surrounded by Nightlings, my hands bound and a gag around my mouth. 

I’m rushed through the empty hallways, past the sleeping cells and silent stations, lefts and rights under low flickering light, until finally, the movement stops. A fan whirrs to life, and I’m lowered to the ground, the faint darkness closing in. I can barely feel the gloved hands of the Nightlings as I’m positioned in a chair. I hardly notice when the heavy chains are wrapped around my legs and arms. I scarcely care when the Nightlings leave me to sit alone in the dying light. Only one thought goes through my head: What just happened?

An hour passes, maybe two—I can’t tell—when I hear the faint patter of footsteps on stone, coming closer. Hushed voices reach my ears, and figures round the corner, coming into sight. “You sure this is the right one? Seems a bit scrawny,” one whispers, his voice rough and hurried. 

“Yes, sir,” the other responds. “A Brightling of Vine and Sound.”

The first Nightling chuckles, and steps forward in front of me, before turning his head towards his partner. “S’pose we’ll see about that, won’t we?” He faces me again, a grin on his face, and steps back. After an agonizing moment, the pair walks away, and I release a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. 

So that’s where I’d be going. The Lab. The place where Gifted were sent to be studied and killed for their Essence. And now, I’d join them. I have no choice, do I?

I close my eyes. I can’t do anything else. I have to let go. But a single voice fights back.

Why resign myself to this dead-ended future? Why not rise up? Why not forge my own path? I slowly open my eyes. Why relinquish my will to someone who doesn’t care? I have a choice! I can fight back! But I can’t do it alone.

I reach deep inside me for the first time in weeks, searching for the glimmer of light that I know lies within. Pain sears my fingertips, but I grit my teeth, shutting it out. Determination flows through my blood, and I can find it, I will. And I do. I tug with all my might at the small seed of power within me, urging it to grow big and strong. And it follows.

Before I realize what’s happening, my Essence cuffs click open, and my power surges to my fingers. I reach below the surface of the ground, pulling at the seeds and coaxing them out. And one by one, they burst through the stone floor, big and strong. My vines twist around my chains, breaking me free, and I leap to my feet. I admire the roots and the blossoms around me, a thing of beauty in a place filled only with despair.

But there’s no time to lose.

I fly towards the main cells, sending my vines and branches to pick the locks and tear off the cuffs, to wake the prisoners and tell them that it’s time to be free. And suddenly, I’m back at Cell 1942. I unlock the door a final time, slipping towards Ember’s cot and gently shaking her awake. 

My friend’s eyes blink open, and she looks at me quizzically. I only smile. “It’s time to fight back.”

♦ ♦ ♦

The moon shines overhead and the stars twinkle in the dawn sky. The soft chirps of the birds break the silence that would have been. Instead, hundreds of Gifted crowd a small meadow of a forest, surrounded by trees and vines and thickets and safe from the world who dreams of their power. 

In the center of the crowd stands a young girl with a bandaged leg and short brown hair. And as she looks over the celebrating people all around her, she smiles to herself.

“Now, we’re free.”