Saoirse

‘Reject’ wasn’t the word Samantha would use to describe herself. Was it gifted? Special? Part of the 1%?

Whatever the title, she knew that being who she was earned her a direct spot in the Dragonfly Reform for the Gifted. A long name; where she was from; the DRG; or just Dragonfly.

Clever, she thought to herself, watching as the carriage rocked back and forth. Outside, two of her family’s prized stallions dragged her to her doom. Dragonflies did signify change—was it to tell girls who are forced to come in that they’re here to be whipped into society’s perfect female stereotype?

Her family, consisting of just her mother and father, recently discovered she was different by accident.

They weren’t supposed to see anything.

Samantha has loved nature since she was little. Born and raised in the greenest part of Ireland, the woods behind her parents’ estate were her escape from reality. There, she found her love for wildlife.

She continued to go deeper into the woods as time passed, looking for the creatures she had become attached to. She had picked an apple from a tree, spotting a red deer soon after. As she approached it, she felt as though she was being drawn to it. The doe approached her, and Samantha petted the animal, feeling waves of emotions as soon as she came into physical contact with the doe. The doe felt comfortable at the time. Samantha tried to step closer, but a branch startled the deer, causing the animal’s panic to travel through Samantha. She drew her hand back and looked at it curiously as the deer bolted off.

A large, aged castle came into view, its large, green front yard littered with all kinds of flowers staring back at her. The road to reach the large doors seemed to last for ages; Samantha began to bounce her leg, the pastel green fabric of her gown bouncing along with it.

Understanding animals wasn’t the only thing she was “gifted” with.

The ginger grew up with dreams that were so metaphorical that she often woke up with a migraine. Animals, weather, and even weird occurrences She knew from the books her older sister had lent her that all dreams meant something. Losing teeth, falling, and even growing extra fingers. She’s grown fingers in her dreams plenty of times; on those days, she’d wake up so sick she couldn’t move.

Her parents had had enough when Samantha began showing expertise in the arts, sketching a distant relative she didn’t know personally but who, according to the Elder DeRoses, was Samantha’s deceased granduncle. She sang melodies from hundreds of years ago without ever hearing them. Even worse for her parents, any musical instruments she picked up, she mastered in a day.

As a result, they sent a letter to the headmaster of Dragonfly, pleading with him to help. As a response, they asked for the three of them to come in with the intention of leaving Samantha there.

Just thinking back on the arrival of the letter made her sick.

The headmaster had expressed his ‘condolences for Samantha’s irregularities’. He mentioned that Dragonfly had top-notch strategies to turn any unwillingly gifted person into a norm.

Norm was the world’s term for the ordinary people who didn’t wield the abilities she did. People like her were the outsiders; to put it nicely, everyone calls people like her “gifted.” Contrary to the meaning of that word, they were locked up until they knew how to suppress their abilities. Whether it be physically or mentally, the end goal was to create another mindless slave with the manners of a strict princess for the world. It was tiresome.

The headmaster told her parents to ensure Samantha brought bags with her. Forcing it at this point, all but one DeRose willingly loaded the carriage to take off that morning.

For the entirety of the ride, Samantha remained silent. She considered it to be a silent protest, giving her parents the cold shoulder as she watched outside the window for hours. And yet, there was no trace of pity or remorse in their voices as they spoke amongst themselves. Not to mention the rude comments about the commoners they passed.

Finally, the chariot slowed to a halt in front of the doors.

Samantha swallowed.

“Well?” her father spoke, his voice raspy. “It can’t be too bad. Nice place. Let’s give it a lash, eh?”

And with that, they headed inside.

They walked through a long corridor with large stones lining the walls. There were several worn and uneven stairs, causing Samantha to trip on her dress many times. Behind her, her mother huffed in annoyance. She tensed and swiftly picked up the skirts of her dress, picking up her pace. When they finally trudged up the endless flights of death stairs, they went for the door on the far side of the hall, labeled ‘Headmaster Jones’. Samantha felt the waves of anxiety fizzle up inside her. It wouldn’t be too difficult to turn and run, right?

Should she even risk the effort?

Instead, her light green eyes locked onto the nearby window. Only the front yard seemed to be green; the backyard looked dehydrated and barren.

“Tá sé seo dr,” is all she mumbled. Her mother snapped her lapis eyes to her daughter. Samantha huffed softly, but her mother kept quiet.

Samantha’s father knocked three times, waiting for the grunt that allowed them to walk inside.

The headmaster had dark hair and bright blue eyes. He looked to be in his 40s, with gray mixing with his dark beard. He was dressed in a well-pressed suit, and his desk was neat. Like he deep cleaned his house knowing who was going to enter his doors today.

“Ah. “Welcome, Your Highnesses.”

And there it was.

The reason the Headmaster obliged everything her parents said was because of their title. They were royalty, as most of the aristocrats were. However, they were part of the most powerful council in the world: Blood Moon.

Not much is said to be known, as the four main families keep their lives private. The DeRoses, being at the top of that status, were rumored to be the most dangerous. They only had two girls and no heir to the throne. Their eldest ran off, leaving the pressure of how to become queen when the time came to little Samantha.

Samantha grimaced. They weren’t exactly dangerous; it was more like her parents had no sympathy for the ones below them, which was pretty much anyone. If you were a mere peasant, one wrong look towards the king and queen led to a golden ticket to the guillotine.

And they owned many.