It was midnight, the time when everyone was awake…and also the time when the most crimes took place.
I was lying on my back, staring at the wooden ceiling above me, half-asleep and half-aware of the world outside.
It was always during the time of these trials that I would start feeling uneasy, almost as if I was missing a part of myself. Not only this but I had long noticed that people were unable to sense me more during this period.
The noise from the market never really stopped. It only changed. Daytime shouting turned into nighttime murmurs, deals, whispers, quiet arguments that didn't want attention. It was easier to get away with things at night, but no one could completely disappear like me.
My stomach didn't hurt as much anymore. The insects I'd eaten earlier sat heavy inside me, and I assumed that I'd be full for another half a day before I feel like eating anything.
I adjusted myself slightly on the mat, pulling one arm under my head as my eyes were closing again, sleepy.
A loud, deep sound tore through the air, vibrating through the wood of my house and straight into my chest as I jolted awake.
It wasn't like the usual noise, no. This wasn't people.
This was something else.
My eyes snapped open, as I clutched my rough black hair to the piercing noise ringing in my ears.
"…shit."
The bell rang again, softer this time as I pushed myself up immediately, whatever sleep I had was gone in an instant. My body tensed on its own.
After all, everybody knew that sound.
The sound of the arrival of the internal convoy.
I clicked my tongue in annoyance, getting to my feet. "Just my luck…"
Another bell echoed through Haven, and with it, the noise outside shifted.
People started obediently walking outside, almost as if they were scared of any kind of punishment. Doors opened and footsteps filled the narrow paths between the makeshift homes.
It was compulsory, it didn't matter who you were or what you were doing.
When they came, you showed up.
I grabbed the loose t-shirt lying beside me and pulled it over my head, not bothering to fix it properly.
My rucksack stayed where it was. No one would dare steal tonight. Not when 'they' were here.
Stepping outside, the cold air hit me lightly. The sky was a duller shade of orange and purple, darker now but never fully night. It hadn't been properly dark in years.
People were already moving towards the main market.
No one wanted to be late, after all.
I joined them, keeping my head low like always, slipping into the flow without drawing too much attention.
It was not like no one knew me here, just that I hadn't gotten any chance to meet them since morning.
No one spoke much, except in hushed tones.
"They came early this time…"
"…must be because of the trial."
"Haven't a lot of people been selected for the trial this year?"
"Must be because its this first time the trial has been taking place this year-"
It didn't take long for me to find a familiar face, "Where's Sam?" I asked the blue haired lady in front of me with confusion and foreboding as Myra told me exactly what I was fearing I would hear.
"He's been selected for the trial this year—" She said, with much more excitement than me.
Not wanting to wash down her mood with my pessimism, I gave Sam's mom a pat in the back as I walked past her.
Although there was no visible difference outside, if one would notice the dark look on my face, they would understand my emotions right now.
Sam and I was of the same age, we were 19 years old.
It was also people of this age who were chosen the most for the trials because of the abundant energy and potential in us.
I had feared this day would come for months, that my best friend would have to go through such a tough and hard phase for no reason at all.
Although people called trials a blessings, no one talked about the number of people who died inside.
Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if the mortality rate was almost 40 percent!
Maybe it was the fact that I had this ability to decrease my perception of others but I never felt the need or desire to stand out.
In fact, almost 9 out of 10 times I'd rather run away than do something.
People might call me a coward but I've seen more deaths by seeking braver than deaths by cowardice.
Ignoring my social dilemma, I tried to convince myself that I just needed to stand there, listen, and leave.
That's it.
The main market was already crowded by the time I got there. People packed together, forming a loose circle around the center as I stayed near the back.
A luxurious carriage appeared in front of our eyes as the blackened gates to the city of Haven groaned, opening just enough for the carriage to leave.
Even from a distance, it stood out. Polished wood, smooth and clean, not a crack or stain in sight like it didn't belong here. Nothing that perfect should exist in a place like this.
Two large beasts pulled it, their bodies armored lightly, breaths visible in the cool air. They looked strong and well-fed.
Unlike the rest of us.
The carriage came to a slow stop at the center as everyone turned silent.
Then the doors opened and two men stepped out of it.
Silver armor covered their bodies, reflecting what little light there was. It wasn't scratched, not even slightly. Their posture was straight, and their movements controlled.
They didn't look like us, I realized.
They had taller bodies, more muscles than we could count and perhaps so much food that it would put the entire market to shame.
One of them stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. I lowered my head slightly, avoiding eye contact.
"People of Haven," he began, his voice calm but carrying easily across the entire market.
No one interrupted or moved.
"You are aware of the trial that has begun."
A murmur passed through the crowd.
Various emotions morphed on everyone's faces such as excitement, frustration, hope, as well as fear.
'Pathetic.' I thought, shaking my head.
"These trials," the man continued, "are not a curse. They are a gift."
I almost scoffed.
A gift?
Right, like everyone wishes to put their lives on stakes for some sense of purpose in life.
"Bestowed upon us by the Divine's, the beings who watch over this world."
The other man stood silently behind him, his eyes scanning the crowd more carefully.
"Those who are chosen are given an opportunity. A chance to become more than what they are. To rise above this existence."
Some people looked almost too eager, as if it was them who had been chosen instead.
I didn't understand it.
"Each who enters a trial receives a gift," he said. "And a curse. Power, in exchange for burden. Strength, in exchange for sacrifice.
Apostles.
That's what they called them.
The ones who come back stronger, gaining victory against any hurdle that is placed in front of them!
In fact, it was better to say that the people who come back are not human anymore.
"The weak remain," the soldier added, his tone unchanged. "While the chosen evolve."
My jaw tightened slightly as I looked away.
"In one week," the other soldier continued, "this trial will conclude and a second convoy will arrive to welcome the newly awakened Apostles into the inner walls of Haven."
"Inner walls…" A lady started whispering, her eyes shining. Similar reactions appeared throughout the crowd as I remained silent.
I'd heard it before.
The promise of something better.
It didn't mean anything.
Not to me, atleast.
I'd rather rather run and be alive than seek for some power just to gain death—
The man paused for a moment before speaking again.
"There is another matter." The tone of the soldier shifted slightly, colder and sharper.
"The matter of the so-called 'Ghost.'" My body went still as I slowly and carefully looked at everyone around me.
"We have received multiple complaints regarding theft within the outskirts," he said. "Repeated incidents, and untraceable movements. A pattern of behavior that suggests thievery."
A few people around me shifted uncomfortably.
Some looked annoyed, some angry.
'Good,' I thought, blame someone else.
"This will be investigated," the man continued. "Such actions will not be tolerated."
My grip tightened slightly at my side, just a little.
"Those responsible," he added, "will be found."
Silence followed as the man let the words settle in.
I exhaled slowly through my nose.
'Calm, stay calm.' I tried convincing myself.
They don't know.
They can't know.
The man stepped back slightly, signaling the end of his speech.
"For now," he said, "prepare yourselves. Whether chosen or not… your actions will determine your place in what is to come."
With that, he turned back to the carriage along with the other soldier as the doors to the carriage closed.
The crowd stayed still for a few seconds before everything broke.
Voices rose, questions and arguments continued.
Same as always.
I didn't stay, turning and starting to walk back, blending into the moving crowd, as I kept my head low.
"Ghost, huh…" I closed my eyes as I thought about all the times I'd get those weird dreams and wake up to feeling as if my shadow was moving.
I kept walking, faster now as I just wished this trial passed without any problems just like the other times.
Along with the fact that Sam stays safe and comes back alive.
I reached my house quickly, slipping inside and shutting the door behind me.
The noise outside had dulled again.
I stood there for a moment, thinking about everything that just happened.
Then I shook my head.
"…doesn't matter." They didn't know anything.
I was always careful with all my stealings, going as far as trying to change my perception of others.
No one had ever caught me.
I moved towards my rucksack, crouching down slightly as I opened it. The food was still there, untouched.
Everything was fine, just like any other night.
I leaned back against the wall again, letting my body relax slightly.
When a soft sound made my ears twitch.
I was scared to look back because I heard it right behind me, inside the house as my body froze.
Slowly, I turned my head.
There was nothing there, except a wooden wall.
It was the same wall I had been staring into for the past 11 years.
But my shadow…
It wasn't on the floor anymore.
It was on the wall.
And it was moving…without me.
***