ASMEEN'S entire life hinged on this one moment. And all she could do was sit. And pray. 

She watched Dara Segast and Osoric Beor stand at the front of the field, scrolls loosely clutched in their fingers, and shivered, hardly noticing wetness from the damp ground seeping into the bottom of her dress, her fingers pulling at blades of grass tightly, nearly ripping them from their roots.

She tore her eyes away from Dara and glanced to her right. Her sisters were sitting beside her, both their eyes fixed on the night-haired woman. While Wylla looked as nervous as she herself felt, Elyn's face was as blank as always, mist hiding the storm.

Wylla, maybe feeling the weight of Asmeen's gaze, turned her head and gave her a smile, her trembling lips failing to live up to their usual cheeriness. Asmeen returned the smile to the best of her ability and glanced back at the two leaders.

"Bjóll's blessings be upon us this fine day!" Dara intoned, her voice audible throughout the field, as if carried by the winds.

"And Lelitë's!" Osoric Beor added, giving her a pointed look.

Dara inclined her head at him before turning back to them. Her eyes scanned the crowd—the row of children, some so young they'd barely had their fifteenth, and some who were nearly to their twentieth. Asmeen was one of the oldest ones. So were her sisters. How she envied the younger ones, who'd gotten so far at their age.

She could only have dreamed of doing such on her fifteenth.

Now it was almost too late. And all she could do was fix her eyes upon Dara Segast and pray to Bjóll with all her might.

"You have all worked incredibly hard to be here today," Dara said, glancing at both sides of the field.

"Whatever happens, let it not discourage you from pursuing your dreams in the future," Osoric Beor added.

Asmeen sighed. She'd heard this speech too many times. After every round they said it. Usually it was meant for people like her. The people who failed.

"I'm sure Bjóll—and Lelitë—" Dara said, giving Osoric a pointed look— "Are incredibly proud of what you have already accomplished."

"But," said Osoric, almost smiling, "I'm sure you're all very eager to know who has made it into the final round, so without further ado, we will begin listing the names."

This was it.

Asmeen's back straightened as much as it possibly could as she waited. They always called the younger ones first.

Gasps and murmured congratulations rustled through the field as Dara and Osoric alternated in calling out names. The children barely past their fifteenth. A year after that. Two years. Three.

And then it was them.

Asmeen felt a clammy, cold hand grasp hers, and she turned to see Wylla staring at Dara, her gaze almost as hard as the way she was squeezing Asmeen's hand. Asmeen squeezed back and turned her attention to Dara.

"Elyn Bamaris!"

Asmeen and Wylla inhaled in unison, a sharp, quick sound as they turned to Elyn. Their oldest sister's expression faltered, just for a moment, before she composed herself and turned to face them. Asmeen knew that she was happy—but the two of them were still left.

Osoric called out the next name, and then Dara called out another, then Osoric again, then—

"Wylla Bamaris!"

Wylla gasped, her fingers loosening for a moment before she glanced at Asmeen. Asmeen gave her widest smile she could manage. Wylla gave her a similar smile and squeezed her hand again.

Osoric called out another name. There was a faint noise from the other side of the field.

"Asmeen Dasterian!"

Wylla gasped even louder, her eyes flying to Asmeen. Asmeen could only stare at Dara—was it her name that was called?

She glanced at her sisters beside her, her fingers shaking in Wylla's. Elyn nodded. Wylla was smiling, nearly all her teeth showing.

"You made it," Wylla whispered, her eyes shining. "We all made it!"

Asmeen could only nod. She was still shaking. She could barely hear Dara and Osoric talking, barely register them wrapping up and walking out.

As soon as they left the field, though, the noise that erupted was enough to shock her out of her daze.

Wylla shrieked and jumped up, pulling Asmeen up as well and threw her hands around her, hugging her so tightly that whatever breath left in her body was expelled as well. Elyn stood beside them, her arms crossed, but a definite upturn to her lips.

"We made it!" Wylla exclaimed, finally letting go of Asmeen.

Asmeen grinning weakly. "We did." She put a hand to her chest, trying to calm her breathing. Why was she still shaking? It was over—she was in. She was in the final round. After four years of trying.

"Wylla. Asmeen," Elyn said, getting their attention. "Let's go home." She glanced around the field once.

There had been more people selected this year than the last, but so many hadn't made it. The three sisters themselves were the recipients of plenty of hurt and angry looks. Others had already started leaving in dejected clumps. Asmeen had been one of them in all the years prior.

Wylla looked around as well and nodded, brushing her burnt-sienna hair out of her face. "Let's go." She took their hands, forming a chain of three, and they walked back.

They wove through the towering trees, finally coming out of the woods and into their little town. Parents were waiting at their doorsteps for their children. Asmeen averted her eyes, not wanting to see the joy or, more likely, disappointment on their faces.

They walked through the streets, the houses growing larger and more ornate, and finally they reached theirs. They paused at the gate, Asmeen glancing at Wylla. Elyn finally broke away and walked forward to open the gate.

Letting out a breath, Asmeen let go of Wylla and followed her. She could hear Wylla's footsteps behind her. Elyn knocked on the door, and they waited together. Asmeen rubbed her palms on her dress to wipe off the sweat. She wasn't sure it had worked.

The door opened.

"Papa," Wylla said, taking a step forward.

Wylla had taken her dark hair and darker skin from her father—Elyn looked nothing like him. Asmeen had heard that Elyn, lighter in hair and skin, took her looks from her late mother. She'd never asked for more information.

"Girls," Azol Bamaris said, arching a coppery eyebrow.

"We made it!" Wylla exclaimed. "All three of us!"

Azol blinked, his eyes flickering over the twins and then Asmeen. "All of you?"

Asmeen winced internally. Azol had married into the family much after her own mother had passed on, bringing the twins with him. Still, they'd come in time to witness her yearly humiliation. She couldn't even blame him for his disbelief.

"Yes," Elyn said simply, in a way that made it seem final. "Can we come in?"

Azol moved aside, a slow smile spreading across his face. Asmeen caught Wylla's eye as they walked in, and Wylla gave her a reassuring smile.

They entered the main hall, and Asmeen stopped as Elyn closed the door behind them.

Her father stoodthere, arms crossed and lips pursed, his face already full of disappointment. His eyes glanced over her, landing on the twins. "Well? Has anyone in our family made it, or will we be a laughingstock in the neighborhood?"

Wylla gave him a smile, and Asmeen could see the undercurrents of both victory and viciousness. 

"We all made it, Father."

Whoa, first chapter. I'm structuring the chapters as well as writing, which is fun. I should update every day or three XD.

So, how was it? This is only the first chapter, so anything confusing will hopefully be explained later. I hoped you liked it!

See you next chapter :)