Heart and Soul

Four years ago

Iris peered through the brush, watching her camp burn, vision blurred. The wind bit her cheeks and tangled her hair. A man was marched to each tent, leading captives, fueling the fire. Iris ran.

Air flooded her lungs as her eyes shot open. Just a dream. Iris had always dreamt, they always came true. She was a Sinnaturali, prey for the ruthless Lola.

Iris ran to Vic.

“Marie! Saints, you’re alright. I need to talk to you all.”

With the attention of the family, Iris explained and stared in disbelief as the couple discussed this “perfect opportunity.”

Vic went outside, and Iris followed.

“They want me to enlist.”

Lola and her Regiment had tormented the country for years—Sinnaturalis were hunted and killed by soldiers. Camps were erected as safe havens for these people and their allies, but were scarce.

Barra and Marie joined them outside.

“It’s hard, but it's for the best.” Barra wrapped his son in his arms. “We won’t let anything happen.”

“How do you know that?” Vic asked. Moonlight softened his angular face, his anger and sorrow still sharp. “How?”

Barra’s face mirrored his wife’s frustration. “You will join the Regiment, you will help us.” Vic pulled away from his father, looked in his eye. He wouldn’t be disobeyed.

Marie kissed Vic’s forehead and followed Barra inside.

Iris tried to offer solace. “It’s going to be alright.”

Vic turned to her. “How do you know?” His eyes glistened with tears unfallen, the quaver in his voice saying it wouldn’t last.

“Because I didn’t see you burn.” Iris took his hand and squeezed it.

Three years ago

Haven’t heard from Vic. Either he’s in trouble and I’m going to get him out, or he’s dead and I’m going to murder someone. I’ll reach out soon.

-Iris

Vic left roughly a year before. He gathered information and was expected to report on a strict schedule.

A clang rang from Iris’ knives as they struck a tree. She’d sent her message, and was set to head towards the capitol that night.

”Saints, if he’s dead, I’ll hunt you all down.” Iris was never one for prayer, so she settled for threats.

When she woke it was still dark, and by morning she was outside the capitol.

“I’d like to request an audience with the Superialis,” she said, looking in the eye of a soldier guarding the building.

“What for?”

“To enlist.”

Naturalis soldiers underwent testing to ensure Queen Lola’s safety. Sinnaturalis of specific capabilities were captured—some could detect abilities, some were lie detectors—but Vic said they were always locked up.

Soldiers then endured training and assignment. Quick, insightful Vic was a strategist.

Iris left her things in the forest. She tucked a small knife away in her bun—Vic described the way the guards searched incoming soldiers, and the women’s hair was left untouched. Although, most women in Deljot had fine, thin hair that couldn’t conceal a pin.

She was searched and led to a room with a girl about her own age, whose hands and feet were bound.

The guard nodded and the girl laid her hands at Iris’ temples. She was searching for abnormalities that would lead to execution. Iris cleared her mind.

The first thing Iris learned to do was hide. Vic’s parents taught her to empty her mind of guilt, worry, to focus on what brought calm. Iris thought of her knives, practically felt them in her hands.

As the girl brought her hands away, Iris thought of the knife in her hair. The captive’s eyes widened. She understood.

The girl replaced her hands, and Iris remembered the noise of the knives from the night before. She focused on the thunk of the metal when it sunk into the wood.

The girl brought her hands down with an invisible confusion on her face. The guard didn’t notice.

Iris trained, joined the infantry, and was sent to a hall lined with doors. Each branch had their own sector, infantry in one wing off of the main bulk of the capitol building, and strategists in another. Lola’s cabinet, the Superialis, had quarters on the second floor above the center of the building.

As she entered her room, a blond girl sat on a bed. She was sniffling, and Iris saw her shoulders hitch when the door opened.

After a quick introduction, Iris learned the girl, Anji, lost someone in a raid. Iris laughed bitterly, silently. You can shed a tear for her, but not for the thousands you killed?

Iris immediately began looking for Vic. That night, when Anji had gone to sleep and she heard the footsteps cease, she wandered towards the opposite wing. The corridors were dark, lit sparsely by ceiling lights. Iris rounded a corner and stopped. Someone stood silhouetted, watching her. Iris, who was standing under a light, didn’t have the advantage of anonymity.

“Iris?” a low, familiar voice asked.

“Vic?” Iris ran to meet him, and slapped him. “What happened? We thought you were dead!”

“It’s Lola.” he said, rubbing his cheek. “She’s planning something, and has a group of strategists perfecting it. She hasn’t left us alone. I haven’t been able to get word to you—I’m not even supposed to be here. I heard someone arrived who was ‘unnaturally skilled with knives’ and fit your description. I figured it was you.”

“What’s she planning?”

“She’s looking for someone, and she needs them soon.”

Footsteps sounded far down the corridor and they slipped back into their halls.

In her room, Iris opened the window and scaled the building, headed to the meeting point.

Two weeks later, Iris was given instructions to assist a raid on a southern village.

“There are reports of three Sinnaturalis. We aren’t leaving without them.”

Commander Warren gave instructions to stay hidden unless necessary. Iris followed her group into the village and split. As she stalked the houses, she heard voices.

“Some say they’re blessed by Saints. I say they’re not human.”Agreements murmured. Enraged, Iris climbed the window and observed. Three men sat around a table. They stopped their conversation and looked at her.

Three knives, three hearts pierced. She left the house and ran into Commander Warren.

“What happened?” he whispered. “You’re supposed to hold until they’re tested.”

“One of the Sinnaturalis was there. He tried to stop my heart, but I beat him to it. I don’t know about the other two, but I figured it was better safe than sorry.”

“Three men? In that time? All Saints, what are you?”

Iris stilled at the question, relaxing when a grin split his face.

“We’re lucky to have you,” he said.

One month ago

Iris sat across the table from Lola. Her face was stone, not showing any enjoyment. Iris was in trouble. She stood and walked towards the queen, then seated herself at her right hand. Lola’s face melted into contentment.

Iris’ dreams became fluid, controllable. She started changing small details, seeing if they stuck. They did.

When she dreamt of the queen , Iris knew she had to change the course of events. She couldn’t afford to be exposed now, so she gained the queen’s favor and waited to see what happened.

Iris received orders a few months after finding Vic to keep all Sinnaturalis alive until they could be tested. Though the information wasn’t made public, Vic said she was looking for a powerful Sinnaturalis who could be useful. Soon after, Vic was relieved of his duties and returned to ordinary strategist tasks.

Iris didn’t mind the orders. She’d never taken the life of her own people, only people who’d kill her first.

Attacks were planned, and Iris was sent on yet another one. She tied back her hair, hid her knife, and armed herself.

Amidst the violence, Iris watched. With the Sinnaturalis who conducted tests and their guards walked someone who carried a pendant shaped like an anatomical heart--the symbol of Deljot’s royalty. Iris followed.

As the group entered the home of a presumed Sinnaturali, Iris watched from the window. Inside stood a woman. The guards moved her aside and a child appeared. The Examiner placed his hands beside his head and nodded.

Iris knew what came next and looked away. When Iris turned back, not only did she see what she expected--a dead boy, a hostage, and three monsters--she saw his soul. A light was being pulled from his body, into the pendant. Run.

In her room, a letter sat on her bed. To celebrate her excellent service to Deljot, a dinner would be held with the audience of the queen to witness another promotion. The last thing she wanted was to be in a room with Lola, but she couldn’t refuse.

At breakfast, Iris sought Vic and relayed everything. He was silent for a beat before replying, “How did it come to this?”

“I don’t know.”

“What made her angry, do you know?”

“No. I don’t think it happened. When the dream changed, it changed the course of events too.”

“You’re exactly who she’s looking for.”

A shout signaled the end of the meal. Vic took Iris’ hand and gently squeezed it.

Now

“Iris Freid, stand to accept your recognition,”a man boomed. The room was stuffy, her heavy uniform not helping. A scattered applause sounded, and Iris sat.

An elaborate meal was set on the table for six, Lola seated at the head. Her right sat empty. Iris knew it was for her, but immediately taking the position would signal immense disrespect. She sat on the left side of the table, farthest from Lola. Directly across from Lola sat a new pendant-wearer, and to her side, the Examiner. One guard sat, but the other stood.

“Iris, please, take the seat to my right.”

Iris bowed her head. “The honor is all mine.” She kept her head low as she took her seat.

The dinner went as smooth as Iris could’ve hoped. Only when it ended did Iris curse the Saints.

“Iris, I’d like you to stay.” Lola waved the people out. She walked over to Iris, full of easy confidence earned by everyone’s love.

“Yes, how can I serve you?” Iris kept her voice steady.

“I know who you are.”

Iris stilled. “I don't know what you mean.”

“You’re a Seer. And you want to know something? I am too.”

Her heart pounded. “Surely you are mistaken. I’d kill myself if I were. And you can’t be one—you wouldn’t speak this weakness.”

“Well, I’m not a Seer. I influence thoughts. How else would everyone like me?”

Iris could feel a pull on her mind, a voice urging her to admit it. She resisted.

“A normal person would've given into my voice,” she mused.

“Why not just kill me?” The queen returned to her seat, offered Iris a chair. Iris stood.

“Because you’re useful.” Lola pulled out the pendant. “This keeps me alive, the souls. But to store them, a quadrant needs to be opened. And when the space fills up, I need to open the next one. You’re going to open it for me.”

“Why can’t you open it?”

“To open it, you need to die. I could do it myself, but I’d rather not,” Lola explained.

An idea formed in Iris’ mind. If she could alter reality in a dream, could she do it awake?

Lola gives me the locket. Lola--

“I can feel what you’re doing. It won’t work.”

But Iris could see the Queen struggle.

Lola slowly stood up. Iris’ breath grew ragged, and she leaned onto the table. The battle of will commenced.

“You never knew what it’s like to fight,” Iris said, teeth clenched.

Iris stood up straight, breathed, and thought.

Crush the locket.

The change in command caught the queen off guard, and her hand clenched. She screamed, the crystals cracked. Light bloomed from it, brightening the same way Lola’s eyes dimmed. She collapsed, gasping. Then her chest stilled completely.

The queen was dead by her own hand, her victims free.