Free Dark Company by Natale Ghent

Musicians; the wolves chose the Advisors; the doves fluttered to the Carriers. The falcons soared to meet the Healers, who received them with outstretched hands. To the Nightshades, the ravens flew, their dark forms merging seamlessly with the lightless beings. And to the Warriors, the lions came, with flowing manes and fathomless gold eyes.
    Within minutes, each recruit had a totem and was ready for the next challenge. Except Meg. She looked around despondentlyThe cavernous opening in the ground rumbled closed, disappearing without a trace.
    The pewter being hovered nearby, radiating disapproval. “Each recruit must have a totem.” It skimmed through the ranks, searching for a totem that may have lost its way. There were none. “You will have to make do,” it told Meg.
    She wanted to cry. She wanted to fly from the meadow. Then the grass wiggled at her feet. It tickled her toes and she laughed when a small grey mouse appeared, scurried up her robe and sat on her shoulder next to her ear.
    “Excuse my tardiness,” it said. “Darned elephants nearly flattened me.”
    “Are you my totem?” Meg asked.
    “Yes.” The mouse began grooming itself.
    “You’re not a lion.”
    The mouse chuckled. “Not since the last time I checked.”
    The recruits turned as one to stare at the small creature on Meg’s shoulder. She forced a smile and tried to look casual. Before the gossip could start, seven additional pewter beings appeared and signalled for the trumpet to sound the beginning of the next challenge. At the blast of the horn, the recruits and their totems fell into line behind their flag bearers, following their pewter beings to their respective training grounds. Only the Nightshades didn’t go with the rest. They were spirited away to an undisclosed location to train in secret.
    The Warriors glided in formation, their lions trotting beside them. The mouse busily groomed itself on Meg’s shoulder, unaware of their odd pairing.
    “There is value in all things, no matter the size,” it finally said.
    Meg felt guilty. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you with my thoughts.”
    “I was referring to you.”
    “Oh.”
    The mouse rubbed its small pink hands over its whiskers. “In time our purpose will be revealed.”
    “Do you know our purpose?”
    “No.”
    Meg drooped. She’d hoped it could shed some light on the matter. “Does everyone get a totem?” she asked.
    “No. Just those that need them.”
    “So … those with a Frequency need them …”
    “Every being possesses a Frequency,” the mouse said. “Only the Spectral frequencies—the single wavelengths—have totems. It helps to unify you in your purpose.”
    Once again Meg felt confused. Did everything have to be a riddle?
    The mouse fussed with the hairs on the back of her neck. “It’s best if you stop questioning and simply accept,” it advised.
    Meg didn’t care, really, who had a totem and who didn’t. She was just happy to have someone to talk to, even if the mouse was kind of stuffy. “Do you have a name?” she asked.
    “We have no use for names here.”
    Meg sighed. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me. I had a name once … I just can’t remember it.”
    “Attachments are unnecessary and cumbersome,” the mouse said. “Your name is a relic of your former life. It’s time to let it go.”
    “But I want a name. It would make me happy. What am I supposed to call you? And what will you call me?”
    The mouse clucked. “There’s no need for calling. We’ll evolve together, becoming telepathically linked as the bond between us grows. I will feel what you feel. I will see what you see. And vice versa. Names are restrictive.”
    “Names are comforting,” Meg said. She thought about this for a moment. “I’m not sure why, but they are. I really want a name. And you should have one too. How about … Sebastian. That sounds nice. It’s a boy’s name, I think. And you can call me … Skylark.” It was the