The one bad thing about learning to dream is the nightmares that come with them. For the next four nights, I had fitful battles with the images my subconscious mind subjected me to. Syntyche holding me close, but when I looked into his face I saw the face of a cliffhound snarling with dribbles of foam. My family and friends crowding me to the cliff’s edge and forcing me back until I ran out of land, falling into a dark abyssal sea. Buckets of the curious crystal salt poured down my throat until I could no longer voice my desperate pleas. But the worst of them all was the dream I had on the fifth night.

My long dark hair was plaited for the first time and a cream white veil danced playfully before my eyes. It was my wedding, Syntyche held my cool copper hands in his warm olive ones. His smile stretched wide as we stood near the cliff edge. The priest was finishing the vows and I felt the breeze pull at my long white dress. “You, as permitted by the Kumihedin, may now share your first embrace as a married couple.” Syntyche pulled me close, our lips sharing a warm and blissful kiss. Everything felt perfect for a single euphoric moment, and then it all shattered.

The cliff fell away beneath my feet, and I watched in horror as I fell away from Syntyche, his reaching cries for me lost in the sudden torrent that began to pour down on my Clifton paradise. As I fell, my dress tore into weathered yellowed tatters of the gown it had once been and my once neat plaits came loose into a wild wavy mess. A cool hard stone floor quickly came up to meet me and when I looked up I saw a barred skylight glaring down on me.

My arms were bare and I shivered in the dank prison. A shackle hugged my waist and ankles, chaining me to the rough stone wall. A single tear fell down my cheek and soon a river of salty droplets poured from my eyes. I was trapped, my complacent life forever chaining me to misery.

And then suddenly I awoke. I opened my eyes to darkness, cold sweat soaking my hair and thin covers. The darkness retreated as silvery moonlight glinted against our plain wood floor. It was the first time I’d ever awoken before dawn and the darkness brought back the terrors of the dream. I quietly climbed out of bed and pushed open the single window at the far end of the room, drinking in the serenity and silence of the cool night air.

I needed space, I needed to think, so I gathered my robe and a soft pair of leather slippers and silently slinked out of the house. The town was so empty at night. There were no lanterns, no candles, no light. All I had before me was the cool dry earth and the opalescent moonlight that guided my path to the cliff’s edge, watching the crashing waves of the Dark Sea bellow.

My senses relaxed as the swashing of the waves combined in a rhythmic lullaby with the whistling wind. The scent of salt and fish filled my nostrils as the cool night air crawled up the cliffs to caress my arms and ankles. I sighed heavily as the air caused my breath to fog and wisp away with my fear.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

I jumped in surprise as the weathered voice spoke from behind me. I turned to see the cloaked man approach from behind to stand beside me and I wondered how I’d missed his presence with the loud clap of his cloak in the wind.

“Haven’t seen a sky of stars quite like this in a long time.” He smiled as he gazed out at the clear sky. Little lights danced and twinkled in a grand performance around the moon but I pulled away my gaze to glare at the man.

“You’ve ruined me. You’ve ruined my town. Why did you come back?” I pulled my robe closer around me and scowled, my hair pulled back and away with the breeze.

“I had hoped to open your eyes. The townsfolk won’t let us back in after the last time, not while they’re awake anyway, and someone has been shutting me out of your mind. This is not how our land is supposed to work. Life is not meant to be lived without choice.” His eyes softened with concern, his periwinkle irises shimmering in the moonlight.

“We have plenty of choice, you’re the problem and there’s no way that your haphazard way of living before was the right way.”

“Are you sure about that? What choice do you have in this world?”

I hesitated. Had I chosen Syntyche? Had it been my will to join the crystallers? Was I in charge of my destiny?

“I see they haven’t completely stolen your will. You question them.” He came closer and placed a gentle tanned hand on my shoulder. His ancient eyes bored into mine. “You have choice, as you were always meant to. What you do with this knowledge is up to you.”

I stared back at him. Before he and his companion arrived in our town we’d been fine. The Kumihedin’s system worked like clockwork, and yet something in me pulled away, longing for the life I’d seen in my first dream. It was chaotic, yes, but it looked free, real. I took a deep breath of the salty air I loved so much letting the cool mist wash over me and seep into every part of my worried soul.

“I can see you need some time to think. I hope you’ll make the right choice when the time presents itself.” He nodded solemnly then turned and left, walking silently down the path. My eyes were drawn to the stars and I watched them dance and twirl until a single star streaked away, across the sky, and down into the sea on the horizon. A foreboding feeling crept into my stomach and settled like a rock. I walked home and stepped through the door just as the sun prepared to creep into the sky, I yawned bitterly.

I stumbled blearily through the kitchen and prepared bread and eggs for breakfast, nearly singeing my hair twice as I nodded to sleep over the fire. When my brothers came clattering down the stairs they halted on the stairs at the sight of my messy hair and baggy eyes. Their jaws flapped open and shut like a fish’s with indecision as they worked against their purpose. They shared a glance and finally shouted in unison.

“MOOOM!!!!”

“Boys! Whatever is the matter with you!?” Mother came thumping down the stairs and stopped dead when she saw my face.

Her mouth moved as if trying to speak the question we were all thinking, but her voice refused to yield in the battle against fifth morning’s purpose. It was supposed to be a morning with extra fighting and disorder with the twins still figuring out their new rank in their apprenticeships and an egg was supposed to have been lost to the floor in the commotion, but once again the cloaked figures had ruined the routine.

I hid my face in shame and rubbed at my cheeks in the hopes of coaxing out their cooperation. When I looked up again father was staring down at me in shock.

“What in all Kumihedin’s name is happening!!!” It was the one phrase that fit the situation and was still marked in our purpose.

“I-I… Father, please!” I looked at him with tears in my eyes and he turned away sitting at his usual place and proceeding as if nothing had gone wrong. Mother, Sial, and Sarish followed his example and began chewing quietly.

It was the scene that should have followed Sial knocking over the egg pan and sending father’s eggs on the floor. Father would shout, eat his bread and rise from the table. He followed his part and with a calm stern voice said, “Astrayna will stay home and clean up this mess. I expect better behavior tomorrow.” Silently the rest of the family rose, cleared the table and left the house. The phrase had originally been intended for Sial but the undertone imposed that it was now meant for me.

I had broken my purpose and unsettled the morning. I had left the house without speaking to anyone. I had conversed with an outsider. A rock of guilt joined the weight of the foreboding stone in my core. I didn’t know what to do, none of the way the day had gone was in my purpose and I felt lost and unsure.

I pulled my hands through my hair and started to cry. The tears ran down my face in ugly streams and my breath came in hiccuping gasps. Panic coiled around me and I clawed at my arms in panicked shivers. What was happening to me. Why was it all falling apart?

My swirling thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door and with a frightening chill I realized the next purpose that was supposed to play out. Syntyche had come to check on me. I was supposed to be happily cleaning, fully dressed and ready for work. I swallowed hard and ran up the stairs, splashing water on my face and inadvertently up my nose. A second knock.

I tore a brush through my hair and wrestled on a dress, tangling my arms in the sleeves in my rush. A third knock and I bolted down the stairs. The kitchen was tidy but my breathing was coming hard and fast. Sweat beaded on my still wet face and my hands opened and closed in an indecisive panic. Nothing was going to plan, the purpose was broken, I was broken. Another wheezing breath. A fourth knock, hard and desperate.

I bolted out the back door.