There was no day like the first day.
That was the motto etched into the doorway of her first home. For much of her years, she had made that very phrase the backbone of her many decisions.
On occasion, she recited it for herself and others her own age as a means to bolster perseverance. It stood as a well-received saying to those with the patience to understand it Then they would regret taking her advice once they found out that she was raised in a brothel.
Her place of upbringing a mere brick in the wall that the women there built.
Souki, remained the hope of each of the workers that came and went over the years. She stood as a motivation for adults more than double her senior.
They all seemed to find strength in her stubbornness, cheering her on as she took on the soul trial and meeting her at the gate with relief as she returned unharmed.
Her childhood was wrought with memories of being sent outside to wander the city for hours. Her teenage years were spent managing the brothel herself. Even the task of surviving a week beyond the border was met with a fervour of determination that came to her as naturally as breathing.
Within the walls of the central office, all of that headstrong pride seemed to evaporate in the lobby.
With its marble floors and several gilded chandeliers time itself became lost in the distracting furnishings of the Temple. Patience was swallowed up, only excitement remained.
Souki sat there, fingers tapping a frantic rhythm against the metal frame of her chair.
Three months ago, she returned to Remu a certified child of the Astras as they had ensured her survival. Today she was to experience her first official day as the Temple's employee, a dream realised through guidance and gritted teeth.
There was no other Shiear she would rather work under. The stories she heard about the Astran soldiers who had sacrificed themselves to see this city remain in the northern territory. The retellings of Aisha, The Blood River, who took out a titan on her lonesome only twenty years prior.
If one aspired to stamp their names into the history books, Remu was the city to do it.
An hour early she had arrived, her heart racing upon entry. The receptionist had smiled a mask of practiced warmth and pressed onto the back of her left hand a visitors' seal. The singsong in her tone as she informed her that "the Shiear will be available shortly".
The minutes since then had stretched themselves and the lobby remained a stilled canvas. The only moments of movement remained the hands appearing and disappearing in bursts of white.
One hand visited spending the longest period in the lobby. He had done scheduling with reception. With him was a tall human who stood by his side. His feet were shoeless and draped himself in a long brown cloak held together at the front only allowing an opening for his face.
He happened upon Souki while he scanned the room, but before he could establish any meaningful observation, the Hand grabbed him and they both disappeared.
An hour and a half—the sand in the minute glass refusing to drop whenever she looked at them. Was she in the wrong lobby? Had they forgotten her?
The Temple stood the epicenter of every functioning fragment North of the border. The building itself was made up of many branching wings and bridges that lay interlinked all over the city. It was possible that she sat in the wrong office. Being that they dealt with thousands of people daily the chances of her being forgotten were equal to its opposite.
Time in silence had led her to realise that in her past she remained the big fish in a small pond. Here at the heart of magic energy, religious belief and business alike, did there exist a place for a girl born inside the walls of a brothel, to a father who never thought twice of revisiting her.
She locked eyes with the receptionist who had taken it upon herself to glance this direction every twenty-five minutes. This time her smile strained and unsure.
"Just a few more minutes," she said reigniting Souki's racing pulse.
She always wanted to work for The Temple, it was the aspiration of all Rému's youth. There were the hands who, in the eyes of the public, served as law enforcement. Yet, there were never any details on the other mundane tasks of the white garbed bodyguards. Were they charged with the deciphering of scrolls? Were they responsible for categorizing the magical techniques? Were they the ones who discovered new techniques?
Filing, stocking, brewing tea? Who were the ones with that in their job descriptions.
And then—the doors swung open. The Shiear herself, floated through the gaping port. Long black hair tailed her movements, as her embroidered coat clung to her shoulders. Her left arm bandaged from palm to elbow but swung freely at her side. Her bright green eyes were ageless and wise, they met Souki's.
"Child born east of the canal," she said closing her eyes and tilting her head towards the young girl, "your energy is one of great balance, I imagine you could power a whole city with that thing."
Souki rose returning the welcoming gesture, her legs trembling. The lobby had held her captive, but now she could finally accept the embrace of her future.
"Ms. Jabaani ma'am, sir." her words rid themselves of restraint in a manner most efficient for embarrassment, "I'll keep my mouth shut."
The Shiear chuckled placing an arm around the girl and dragging her into the office, "we're family now, so you can say whatever you want.