Grastella

"Get your ass down here we are going to be late...again"

Just like the morning before and probably like tomorrow morning I just can't seem to get myself up on time, the only reason I ever make it to work is because of the slightly shrill cries of my best friend Eric.

"Hold on, hold on let me get ready- give me like 5 minutes alright"

With little remorse for the consequential pain I hurled my skinny body out of the second-floor window, shirt half-buttoned, tumbling towards the soft bed of leaves below.

Much like the perfectly placed foliage beneath the sill and my infuriating ineptitude concerning arising in the morning, the weather in Grastella seemed suspiciously stagnant, as if change were a foreign concept that nature had long forsaken. The still, azure backdrop littered carelessly with a few insubstantial clouds, the mild sun that never scorched the soil nor allowed the intrusion of hail or snow. This was my home.

"C'mon, get moving or we can expect another round of beatings and honestly, they aren't my favourite"

Eric's tone was almost always a joking one, facing the callous reality of violence with humour as ever. These "beatings" were commonplace for people like us, 'novice' rank refractors who could barely summon the light let alone manipulating it.

Grastella was the realms punching bag of nation, with even the most advanced refractors who had toiled endlessly to break through to the 'elite' rank failing to produce offensive, attack-oriented light. The green-wave refractions focussed on healing and light restoration; the only blessing granted to our people was the ability to support and sustain others. Pathetic.

"Wanna practice with some meditation again later? I have heard some of the other guys are at the brim of breaking into the 'adept' rank, pretty cool right?"

Within all his physical might and positive demeanour, it was clear to me that Eric hadn't grasped just how pointless our refractions were.

"Honestly, we should just give up on all this light rubbish. We aren't getting anywhere and wont anytime soon. We aren't cut out for it, but you are strong and dependable so holding down another position in the mine would be easy for you Eric, why dont you go for that."

His face seemed to turn a bright hue of red, an odd combination of anger and resentment, likely at the thought of another laborious and demanding mining job.

"That stupid attitude of yours, its what getting you nowhere not the light. We wake up every day and work for what, to pay for our days food and await our pending beatings. The thought of being so much more, a refractor with the potential to change things. Thats what excites me"

This outburst somehow instilled a sense of guilt within me, as if my nihilism was a corrosive force eating away at everything around me, regardless of how hard I tried to suppress it.

The rest of the dusty, unpaved trail to the mine felt an endless journey with the thought of this ridiculous optimism, this incessant and unrealistic desire to bring about 'change' looming in my thoughts. The reality of weakness, the inability to change my life with some inaccessible and intangible force, the thought of all the beatings- they resonated through my throat-

"If change is possible then let it happen because I cannot live like this"