Eternal: Chapter Eleven, Part 3

“I would like to begin by expressing my deepest and sincerest thanks for your presence here today.” Standing on the raised platform, news crews stalking along the base, the crowd of participants stretching along either side of the reflecting pool, I felt calm. Sure, there were a lot more people here than I had thought—it seemed we surrounded the entire length of the pool—but they were here because they wanted to be, because they were making a choice to listen and act. “Without you, all of you, none of this is possible. So thank you.”

Wild applause. Okay, so not so wild, but it was there and reassuring. At least I wasn’t losing them and just spouting off to myself.

When they quieted down again enough most could hear me, I continued; “I believe you’re here today, because you’ve seen the ads, read the available information, viewed or attended one of the local orations, and, most of all, because you care. Because you believed what you saw, what you witnessed, and you’ve made the decision to care.” Looking out at everyone, people were nodding, smiling, holding hands with their friends, some people looked to be tearing up even. “Elementals, as you have probably heard a lot in the past two years, are oppressed, are stripped of their rights as citizens, and are in hiding. Until now. We have been quiet too long, and now we’re strong enough to speak, and stand up; and with everyone here, elemental or not, we can make a difference.”

I stopped a moment, reminding myself to breath, relax, that I wasn’t going to cry. But it wasn’t easy. Speaking now, in front of everyone, where it really mattered, every reason I was doing this came flooding back to me, with every successful baby step we had already made. It was inexplicably satisfying, to say the least, to be standing there after so long, after having had sacrificed so much. After everyone had sacrificed so much.

“Any elemental, here with us, or watching at home, who would like to keep their secret, can,” I said, remembering Justin. No one was going to be forced into this if it wasn’t what they wanted, but I hoped they would be persuaded. “We won’t find you out. It’s your decision, just like being here today is your decision. A decision we—I am glad you made. But we would not be here without the help of my close friends and their willingness to step out with me.”

Sweeping a hand out to my right, I introduced, “Mikael and Kora, representing earth.” As Ian had instructed them, they stood in the grass and together—mostly Kora, though Mikael did what he could—they coaxed three trees into full height, intertwining into each other. Then they climbed up to one of the branches and waved in response to the awed applause.

 “Jake and Xenia, representing water.” Together, they shaped the water in the reflecting pool into a tall, thin sculpture of an angel, freezing her in place. They raised themselves on two small, frozen pedestals at either side, also waving as they were applauded. “Caroline—”

“And Justin,” he added, jumping onto the platform beside her, seeming to shock even himself.

“And Justin;” I smiled. So he had come through after all. “Representing fire.” Caroline whispered in his ear before they crafted a tower of fire skyward that transformed into a phoenix, flying a moment out over the crowd and greeted with dropped jaws and wide eyes. When the phoenix died away into smoke, everyone literally went crazy with praise, whistling and shouting at the top of their lungs. Angeline, I noticed, was one of the loudest and most enthusiastic. “Ian—”

“And Leirba,” Ian said, as was planned, both of us gesturing to each other.

“Representing air.”

Together we whisked the cherry blossoms Ian had gathered into a thin cyclone, changing it into the form of a woman, opening her arms and leaning out over them. Then the cherry blossoms separated, and we treated them much like butterflies dispersing amongst the crowd. A few children nearby I saw chase some, and gingerly held their prizes, excitedly showing their parents.

Though I wanted to introduce Drei’s part in this, I knew that would put me in a whole new set of trouble—considering this turnout should have won us our forgiveness from the Council. As for Nick, I had asked, and he insisted he didn’t want to be introduced, despite persisting he would be on stage with me. It was for my safety, he insisted.

“We represent each element, and are the first elementals to risk exposure. Some of you might ask why, after we’ve been in hiding so long and none of you probably knew we even existed, or that many others like you existed. The truth is, hiding doesn’t work,” I stressed, trying to strike a balance between demanding and understanding. “I grew up without my mom because she was found, and she had been in hiding. Jake lost his mother to the government, and she was in hiding. Xenia was forced to find other ways to express herself so she could stay hiding. Mikael was left by both of his parents due to hiding. Hiding doesn’t work—not for long,” I added, trying to hold eye contact with as many people as possible. “It leads to repression, depression, other unhealthy outcries, and lies. No relationship can be founded on lies or omissions.

“But this is what we are forced to do. Live every day lying to ourselves because it’s safer. But it isn’t, really.  It just delays the inevitable. Worse than that, though, it hurts. Not just us, but everyone we know.” I was treading into deep water, and I felt it; I had to remind myself I was strong, that I could talk about this without falling apart. I had to.

“When my mom was taken, she left behind my dad. He missed her immeasurably, because, do you know what the government says happens to those they take? The loved ones issue a missing persons report, and a year or so later, the government sends the order to officially claim the person deceased.” Breathe, I reminded myself. “And my mom isn’t dead, because I’ve seen her; I actually shared a cell with her for a month and saw firsthand what their…“tinkering” does. How it corrodes the brain and sends many of their prisoners into an irreversible state of insanity.

“I was lucky, though. Not because they let me go, but because I knew people who would find me, so that today, I could be standing here before you, working to end what’s happening.”

“But they can’t just make people disappear,” one of the reporters at my feet said into his microphone, reaching it up at me.

I opened my mouth to respond when someone from the audience stepped forward, saying, “They did it to my husband, and my father.” It was the woman who had approached me earlier that morning.

“And my sister,” someone else shouted.

“And my fiancé,” another voice called out. Before I knew it, it seemed half the audience was claiming a lost relative or loved one, some of them children or distant relations, others friends and parents. Many of those speaking up also admitted to having an elemental ability; my team gestured for each person to join their respective group, welcoming them with hugs and condolences. The reporter who had complained seemed to be shrinking under everyone who contradicted him. Even his fellow reporters were stepping away.

“What’s worse than taking people we love and telling us they’re dead, is what they do to them in there. What makes them go insane and eats away at their brain,” I began again, a quiet washing over my audience. “At first, they wanted to figure out a way to force elementals to use their gifts as weapons in warfare. But after more research, they discovered that every elemental has a direct connection to their element, an entity more powerful than all of us combined. And thus, they began looking for how to tap that entity, whether it killed us or not. They didn’t care…they don’t care. To them, we don’t exist, because most people don’t know about us. But we exist,” I asserted, restraining myself from yelling. “And we have the same right, as every other citizen, to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

It wasn’t just the elementals in the crowd who were cheering me on, supporting me, giving me strength to say what so desperately needed to be said. It was everyone, and it felt so right to be there, for them to be there, for this to be happening at that moment.

“We are people. We are citizens. We are entitled to our equality. And we will not be silenced.”

BANG!