Sworn duty... protect with walls... My mind swirled with the sound of my mother's words, mixed with other unfamiliar voices as I laid the dishes on the table. Out beyond the walls--What is beyond The Wall?
I blinked and shook my head as a memory of seeing The Wall came up in my mind again. I could picture it clearly and recall exactly how I had felt, standing in the road and looking at it, but at the same time, I also remembered standing in that very same spot, back when there was no wall there... The day I played with Terra in her little yellow dress.
"What are you thinking about, Callista?" Mother asked, coming to set the sizzling, steaming bowl of roasted squash upon the table.
I shrugged. "I was trying to remember when they built The Wall."
Mother set the bowl on the table and searched my face with a worried crease on her brow. "You were so young--I don't think you ever made it that far through town. It's not a very nice place for children." She waved me quiet as Father walked in.
[...]
"And what about you, Callista?" he asked. "Are you looking forward to completing your training and becoming a Tutor?"
I shrugged. "I'm not sure how I feel about it," I answered. "Part of me acknowledges that yes, this would be the next logical step in my educational pathway, but another part of me wonders if I couldn't just compete the same course of study here at Mirrorvale's Academy--why go to a Finishing School at all, if that's the case?"
Father tilted his head back and gave a short laugh. "That's my practical, conscientious girl! I don't think you need to be so nervous about leaving Mirrorvale--it's not as if no one ever does it. People come and go at will all the time! Your mother and I even visited a Factory Market way out in Yondar once, when you were just a baby. You have nothing to fear as long as you stay around people who can protect you."
"That's just what I said!" Mother chimed in.
Nothing to fear... Fear builds walls... Who built The Wall? Whispered a voice in my ear, as soon as Father finished speaking. I braced myself--would I really slip into a vision right here in front of my parents? Who built The Wall? Why is there fear? Fear the Wall--who built The Wall?
Louder the questions came, and more insistent. I opened my mouth to change the subject--maybe I could ask if the charges against Terra's parents had been lifted. Instead, I heard myself ask, "Why did we build The Wall?"
Father set aside his fork as Mother gave a little splutter in the midst of drinking.
"The Wall?" he echoed. "Hmm, I believe it was built for our protection."
"But why is it only protecting one area?" I pressed. Why did my parents speak as if they had something to hide from me? The Scholars, I could understand; they were responsible for what and how we learned, and they could not deviate from the established material, or they would risk losing their jobs. My parents, however, should have no such fear hanging over them--it wasn't as if I would report them to the authorities for things said in a private conversation in our home. Was there something more than Wordspinners that threatened the safety of Gramble?
The tension on my father's face relaxed, and he shrugged, nursing his mug of hot cider. Mother left the table to heat some water for tea. "Beats me," he said in answer to my question. "I would have thought the Academy might tell you more about The Wall, in the lessons about Mirrorvale's history. Why do you expect us to know about it?"
I wagged my head and began clearing the dishes from the table. "That's the thing: in all of our History lessons, the lectures are all about Gramble as a whole, or about the bigger cities. It's not Mirrorvale's history, it's Gramble's. I don't know if they discuss Mirrorvale in greater detail in any of the Economics or Business classes, but I know that all I've learned about Mirrorvale has been explained within the context of other municipalities, never Mirrorvale alone."
[...]
Father eyed me closely. "I've definitely seen walls in other towns our size," he remarked. "I suppose when they started the building The Wall, some people assumed the masons would continue stretching it all the way around, even though it wasn't like we were in any danger, being so far removed from any other town. When they built it up in only that one spot, though, I guess you can say that people understood finally why it had to be built, and they stopped asking questions."
[...]
Mother stared staring at me with a gentle smile on her face.
"What is it?" I asked, fighting the sudden urge to squirm in my seat.
"You were always such an inquisitive girl, always wondering things, asking questions, and learning as much as you could about any little thing you heard, saw, tasted, smelt, or touched. Anything you encountered, you wanted to know more about, as if taking things at face value wasn't enough." She reached out and clasped my hand. "That's what I always admired about this sweet, gentle girl I raised." Her smile dimmed a little. "But now that you're faced with the potential of going out on your own," she continued, "I need to warn you: don't let your curiosity take you away from the things you know and the beliefs you've built up here."
I squinted. "What do you mean, take me away?"
Mother inhaled slowly through her nose. "What I mean to say is, Callista, if you give into these inclinations too much, I fear that you could fall prey to bad influences without even realizing it."
"Bad influences?" I echoed. "Falling prey? Mother, I am practically an adult of marriageable age! What sort of blind ninny do you think I am?"
"I don't think you're blind at all, nor a ninny!" Mother protested. "I just know from experience how danger can crop up in all sorts of ways, and evil lurks to lure you off of the proven path, the one that others have tested and tried. Here in Mirrorvale, your elders have taken the initiative to guard the next generation against negative influences, so you may not have encountered them at all, not really--but out there, you won't be so sheltered."
My tea had gone cold. I left the table to pour it out. "What are you saying, Mother? That you just want me to accept what my elders tell me without question?"
"Callista, please stop trying to twist my words." She stood to join me in the kitchen. I didn't look at her for a while, but Mother wrapped her arms around me and drew me close.
"I'm trying to say that if you stray too far in this path of indulging your whims of curiosity, you will find only doubt and uncertainty, which are dangerous for your mental stability. The best way to avoid that is to follow the proven and tried methods that other people have already laid out."
I heaved a deep sigh. Why did I get the feeling that my parents were just feeding me answers to get me to stop searching and questioning? "I just want to be certain of the truth," I muttered.
Mother stroked my hair as we stood together in the kitchen. "I know, child, I know. You've never coped well with the least amount of confusion, even when it's just a matter of abnormal hypotheticals. That is what you must learn to control, if you want to be successful in presenting as a competent individual. Doubt makes you susceptible to lies."
I pulled back from her. "But--"
"Callista, listen to me." Mother took my shoulders and stared me straight in the eyes. "Waywardness doesn't have to look like outright rebellion, like starting a fight or arguing with your superiors. Evil can take a subtle form sometimes, one that appears to give you all the answers you've been looking for... But that is just to trick you into thinking that such deviation is worth pursuing, worth abandoning the safety and protection built around you." She paused as I cast a glance around the house, thinking of The Wall again.
When my gaze returned to her face, Mother begged me, "Callista, you must not give in to that, because as soon as you compromise once, the evil takes hold and destroys you from the inside, spreading its effects to everything around you. By the time you realize it's there, it's too late and you've gone too far to ever return things to the way they were."
[...]
I couldn't help it. That tight, choking feeling, like swallowing campfire smoke, wrapped itself around my throat.
Evil drags you away... whispered the voice in my head. Subtle... believe the truth... truth is subtle... dressed in lies... questions are lies... being lied to...
"All right!" I snapped, rubbing my temples. "I won't ask too many questions, and I'll do my best to comply with directions from here on out."
Mother nodded. "It's for the best, I hope you know that, Callista."
I picked my cape up off the handle of my bedroom door. "Good night, Mother."
"Good night, Callista."
Standing in my bedroom, I again felt the lateness of the night weigh on me. I tossed my cape into the wardrobe and barely swapped my day clothes for my sleeping shift before I fell into bed and went right to sleep.
I immersed into another memory. I was young. The light from the fire in the hearth spilled through my partially-open door. Someone knocked at our front door. I could hear many voices outside my window, and metal clashing, and I smelled burning pitch that wasn't our firewood. The sound of Father's voice brought me out of bed and over to my door.
"Rubin! Rubin, come out here with us!"
"Eidan," my father replied. "What is the matter? It is well after curfew. What are you doing so late?"
"Curfew is waived when the matter is urgent!" Eidan Juntep groused. The sound of Mother's footsteps drowned out part of his next words. "Too late... should have done seasons ago, then maybe she wouldn't have been able to--"
Mother opened her door and caught me listening.
"Callista!" she hissed.
Father and Eidan turned as I scurried across the corner and into my mother's arms. "How dare you impose upon us like this!" She scolded the big man on our porch. "You've awakened our daughter!"
Father waved us back. "Take her into the bed with you and close the door, Vena," he instructed. "I'll handle this."
Mother laid a hand on his arm as I clung to her shoulder. "Don't do anything we'll both regret, Rubin."
He kissed her forehead. "I will just learn what the trouble is, and then I'm coming right back. I promise not to get involved."
Mother carried me back into her room, and we lay there under the blankets, together in the dark. I tried to relax, tried to close my eyes and feel safe in my mother's arms, but there was too much shouting, too much burning. Were they setting fire to the houses?
I was almost asleep when I heard Father come in. He and Mother whispered over me.
"Is she asleep?"
"I think she finally dozed off, poor thing. What is the meaning of such a rabble after dark?"
"It's the Weaver's fault."
Mother gasped. "What, the Wordspinner on the hill? No one has bothered her or solicited her services in many seasons--what can they possibly have against her all of a sudden?"
"Eidan says that word has got around, she's been luring the children away from their Academy lessons, filling their heads with nonsense that they don't need a proper education. No one can work out how she's done it, but she's somehow turned neighbors against one another, and many have decided that this isn't good for the community morale."
"Oh dear! I had no idea! What are they going to do?"
Suddenly, the clamor outside stopped, and I could clearly hear Father's hushed reply.
"They're driving her out tonight. She won't cause us any more trouble."
In the quiet, I heard a voice: strong, powerful, and sweet. I fell asleep before I could figure out what it said, but at least my present-day psyche concluded one thing: I didn't have to ask my parents or anybody about the reason the authorities built The Wall anymore. I already knew why.
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