Chapter 1
“Papa, what does Progredimur mean?”
That was the first question my daughter had ever asked about our religion. I hadn’t expected it, not for another year or so. But she was a smart girl, and I was naive to think I could keep curiosity away. Her native territory is the House of Knowledge, after all. It’s in her nature.
“It’s Latin,” I told her. “Latin for ‘we progress.’”
“Why do you say it so quietly?”
“So the progress god hears me.”
“If you want to be heard, Papa, why not yell?”
“It doesn’t work like that, Karma.”
My brilliant daughter continued to question, and I slowly began to wonder how a simpleton such as I would ever be able to raise her properly. I already received stares from the pastors, but the Grand Priest allowed it. There are six territories that people are born into. Each Territory, or “House” was established on the basis of virtues, and the story of the Virtue Gods has long since been passed down for many generations.
Valor, kindness, truth, Justice, knowledge, and… Progress, my place of origin.
I had been living under the wing of Father Devaki, the Grand Priest, since I was five years old. I remember, distinctly, my parents leaving to go on a business trip to the church. We waited a day, then two, and then a week. I’ve never seen them since, and overtime, I started losing their faces in my memory.
Brother Devaki never forced me to study the religion of Progredimur, our progression god, but he admitted that if I chose not to, I’d have to stay in one of the common motels near the walls of our town. I had a trust fund, provided by his generosity, but from then to my 28th birthday, I’ve been living on my own. My only friends were the old baker, Madame Hugu, and… my daughter, Karma.
Karma was born in the Knowledge Territory, and with each territory possessing some kind of special ability at birth, I had always felt out of place as her father. She knew more, and questioned more, than most other four-year-olds. The House of Knowledge was known for people being born able to control grimoires, or the “sugar book,” as Karma called them. Not only that, but her brain development far exceeded most teens, and I grew worried that the simple ways of my life will hold her back.
The Progression Territory is the only territory whose citizens show no special ability. For that exact reason, we have landed ourselves at the bottom of the social hierarchy. Most work as farmers, indentured servants, factory workers, and miners. However, I found myself lucky, landing a job at the local newspaper business, House Studies. Even with my trust fund, I needed to provide for Karma.
I bought her novels, research papers, and even old textbooks that the prestigious school near the church threw out. No matter what I gave her, she enjoyed reading them. I was grateful when she poked her nose at me, thanking me.
“You’re the best Papa,” she would say. Her cheeks would radiate innocence that I hope would last forever.
“No, sweetheart, you are.”
We sat at the dinner table, munching on scrambled eggs I had made ten minutes prior. She swung her legs under the table, making incomprehensible sounds of joy as she sunk her nose into a biology textbook. Sometimes, she would look up at me and ask what a certain word meant. Selfishly, I enjoyed being able to steal a bit of the spotlight and teach her things, knowing full well that she could teach herself if she wanted.
It had been a year since I adopted her. A year since Father Devaki gave me his graces to take care of her. Her birthday was in a week, and I was shaking with excitement. I had planned for a month to purchase a small cake with beautiful pink frosting and roses on it, as well as two vanilla cake pops. Those were the favorites, and she had been asking if we could get some for the entirety of the month. It pained me to see her face fall when I denied her request, but I knew… It was all for the best. All for this great moment of her fifth birthday. The first year, I will celebrate my daughter’s birthday.
“Papa, my birthday is next week. You didn’t forget, did you, pater?”
I taught her “father’ in Latin a month ago. It always made me proud hearing her use the language. Latin wasn’t as common in the other territories, but it was an easy and simple language for the brokies of the Progression Territory to learn.
“I will never forget, filia. I have some fun things planned.”
“Will we get cake pops, Papa?”
“I’m afraid not, sunflower. You know those aren’t good for you.”
“Aww, but Papa!”
“Don’t aww me, little missy,” I giggled, standing up to put my hands on her waist. I twirled myself around, letting her legs push against the air as she giggled that sadness away.
“P–papa! Aha, the wind tickles!”
I placed my daughter back in the chair, taking the crinkled parts of her dress and straightening it. Her curly, brown hair bounced as she giggled some more, and I could only smile at those beaming, green eyes of hers.
“My brilliant sunflower, I promise your birthday will be full of fun. Just trust your pater, okay?”
“Yes, Papa,” she smiled widely. She continued kicking her legs underneath the space of the chair.
I let out a sigh of relief. I felt my daughter reach for my almond-colored fingers and interlock her tiny ones into my own. I loved her so much. I wanted the world to let her in, and provide her everything she could ever need. But reality was never so kind, was it? For one reason or another, she was stuck with me. I was the one holding her back. I could only wonder if she would hate me once she realizes I’m not the brave, stunning father she believes I am now.
“Papa…?”
“Yes, dear?”
“You look sad, Papa. Who do I need to beat up?”
Despite her attempts to be threatening, Karma’s cheeks puffed up, only making her green eyes glow even more. She is too adorable to be frightening, I thought.
“You needn’t beat up anyone, Karma. All I require for you to do is be yourself and be safe. Remember what I said about fighting people?”
“No fighting unless you tell me…”
“Exactly.”
I ruffled the curls along the top of her head and chuckled. After we finished breakfast, I cleaned up our plates and placed them along the dish rack. I had finished my work the previous night, just so I could have the opportunity to take Karma to the park. She had been waiting patiently for the past few days, and I believed she should be rewarded for how understanding she’s been.
My deadlines for editing ten articles had been finished with one week left to spare. My employer, Mr. Harvey, had been on my neck since I missed the previous deadline. In my defense, however, I came down with the flu and I could barely get myself out of bed. Karma threatened to beat up Mr. Harvey too, and I had half a mind to let her do it. After realizing I missed my deadline, he showed up at my door and started to yell. He was fortunate Karma was outside playing with friends, or else I would’ve had to explain to the authorities why he had a chipped tooth.
At least his wife, Mrs. Harvey, was nice enough to make him come back ten minutes later to apologize. She would watch Karma if I had errands to run, so it baffled me how Mr. Harvey could be so harsh when he knows I’m a single parent. If I didn’t know any better, he was probably jealous of the attention Mrs. Harvey showed it to me when I was sick. No, that was ridiculous. What am I thinking?
“Papa,” Karma called, tugging on the sleeve of my coat. “Can I get a juice box from the fridge, please? I get thirsty outside.”
“Of course, dear.”
My daughter trailed behind my shadow as I turned the corner to reach the fridge. At first, I thought we didn’t have any juice boxes, and I was fully prepared to let her down before offering something else for her to drink. But, much to my surprise, there was a fruit punch flavored juice box in the back of the fridge. I grabbed it and snapped the plastic covered straw from the face of the box. It took me only a few seconds to hand Karma the juice box, and I was rewarded with a warm smile.
“Thank you, Papa!”
“You’re welcome, Karma.”
My daughter grabbed a hold of my hand and began dragging me out to the open front door. I was a big man by any means, but there was a little pudge on me. I don’t think Karma could have dragged me an inch if I didn’t let her. It was fun to watch and play along, I wanted her to feel powerful and strong. Confidence breeds excellence, is what Father Devaki told me when I was young, and I hoped to teach that same lesson to Karma.
Growing up in the lowest-rated territory wouldn’t be all sunshine and rainbows, but as kind as she was, I don’t think there’s much for me to worry about. As long as I was around, I wouldn’t allow anyone to mess with her. She was my daughter and I was her father.
“Papa, look!”
“What is it, Hun?”
“It’s Lucky! Can I pet him, Papa?”
I sighed, taking a glance over at the deli owner, Ms. Dunn, sweeping away at the area near her shop. Her golden retriever, Lucky, jumped round and chased his tail like a cat was latched onto it. Lucky was a gentle dog, which was the only reason why he even considered letting Karma pet him the first time. Though, it appears once was not enough.
“Mr. Sears, welcome,” Ms. Dunn smiled. Her pearly blue eyes glistened in the sunlight. I could see the sweat perched on her brow, but I bowed and gave a wave.
“Thank you, ma’am. Karma wanted to see Lucky again.”
“Aww, of course! You know she’s welcome anytime! Lucky loves her scent,”
The two of us turned to see Karma on her knees with Lucky licking her face all over. When he noticed that Karma was giving him a hug around his neck, he leaned in further, letting out a small bark of excitement. His tail wagged back and forth, and the sight made me feel joy. Karma was happy, and as long as she was, I was happy too.
“She’s grown quite a bit in a year, don’t you think?”
“Of course,” I said, turning back to Ms. Dunn. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Sometimes I wonder if I can keep up.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job. You’re a single parent, aren’t you? And isn’t she from the Knowledge Territory?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well!” Ms. Dunn clapped her hands together. “You shouldn’t speak down on yourself at all, young man. Being a single father with a child who differs so heavily from you is no simple task. But look at her, she’s happy, isn’t she?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I repeated with a flushed face.
“Then that’s all that matters, yes?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ms. Dunn smacked me lightly on my arm, giving a hearty laugh. I couldn’t help but rub the back of my neck in embarrassment. Suddenly, I felt a tug on my coat again.
“Papa, can we go to the park, now?”
“Yes, filia,” I smiled, before turning back to Ms. Dunn. “Thank you for your time and words, you know not of the relief it gives me.”
“Anytime, dear. You two have a fun day!”
As we walked away, Lucky started to follow. Karma let out a giggle once she heard Ms. Dunn whistle, causing Lucky to loop back around to his owner.
“Papa, I like Ms. Dunn!”
“Me too, Karma, me too.”
We walked along the concrete path together, stopping now and then to greet anyone we knew. It was a beautiful day outside, and no dark clouds could be seen for miles upon miles. I assumed Karma would have at least a couple of hours to play before we’d need to go back home for lunch. But I hoped we wouldn’t run into another one of those older kids who insist on giving dirty looks to us as if we were committing a crime.
As many good parents and children there are in the territory, there were a few bad apples among the bunch. One of which being very well-known and disliked. Mr. Simole and his son, Yurell. Yurell was a thirteen-year-old boy who went to the only school in town. It was an expensive school, and Mr. Simole made it his life mission to make it known that he has a good amount of wealth at his disposal. Though, as big and bad as he acts, I knew it was all a facade. He had money, yes, but he had no status other than that. No notable achievements, no education, and certainly no job. He managed to get lucky, having his parents decree all of their wealth to him once they died early.
I felt for the man, knowing he was hurt inside, but I couldn’t forgive how he was raising his son to look down on people, especially those who are different. The other territories already look down upon the Progression Territory for not having any special abilities. He and his son’s attitude toward them doesn’t help our case.
“Look at that freak, dad,” Yurell had said.
“Yes, I know, but keep your voice down,” his father replied.
Sometimes I wish I could punch someone without getting arrested.
“Papa, why do they hate us?”
“Because they were not taught compassion. Do not pay those type of people any mind, Karma. They only mean to make you feel bad about yourself. Don’t let them do that, okay?”
“Oh… Okay, Papa.”
Ever since then, Karma never seemed to care what other people thought or had to say. All she would do is look at me and laugh, even point and tell me how “silly” people would be. She called them silly when she created her first grimoire too. It was a tiny book, only about as large as my palm, but since Karma didn’t know any spells, it was effectively useless. Still, she found delight levitating the book around, laughing at Yurell, who would call her a freak yet run away whenever the book started moving towards him. Times like those made me extra proud of being her father. I don’t condone violence, but what’s the matter with teasing a bit?
“Papa,” Karma yelled from atop the monkey bars. “Can you hold my sugar book for me?”
“Of course, dear, just throw it to me!”
She did exactly what I asked, but I greatly underestimated the power she wielded. The book immediately threw itself into my chest, nearly sending me and the bench down to the earth below. Karma covered her mouth and yelled an apology to me. All I could do amidst the pain was flash a thumbs up before letting my arm collapse back to my side.
“Pater, you’re so silly!”
“I know, Karma. You tell me all the time.”
This was the best thing a father could ever ask for. No amount of money, power, or fame could ever cause me to give up Karma. None.
