CHAPTER ONE

Somewhere in the distance of a bustling city, conversation, torrents, and waves of it, spilled over everything else. There were layers built into this city, which the bucketfuls of conversation were pouring over. This conversation tumbled endlessly like a waterfall. People shared thoughts and prayers, but nothing else, wallowed in their own cocoons of greed. It started in black obsidian, ebony, and raven black - the buildings, roads, and clothes of the people were all black, black as stars, black as charcoal. Above the layers, it was fading to a grey — greys of pigeons, greys of sheep, greys of stone. The hats, chimney pipes, and roof tiles of these layers of houses were all grey, like thunderclouds. Above, high white glimmering skyscrapers, a world of white, white as steel, white as roses, white as cotton, almost angelic, rose into the horizon.

If you can't tell by now, the entire city is in grayscale. Cheers to that. 

A small child, 13, was standing at the edge of the black road, black as a deep pool, surrounded by people. Her hair was short and white, and her eyes were a grey hue. A sort of chilling, dead grey, like moldy leaves or lifeless, cobblestone grey. Enough to give anyone chills - filled with a sea of emptiness. Someone in front of her - the village elder - shrouded by a dark hood - was holding a black, tall, waxy candle that blended in with everything else. The only distinguishable fact about them was the candle. the rest of them, somehow forgettable, your gaze seemed to slip off the loose robe. But the child wasn't looking at the candle or the elder. she was looking at the flame, as was everyone else. 

"It's so black," Heli said, in surprise, and all 50 people in the gathering stared at her. 

"Wait. No. Sorry. That sounded wrong. Lemme try again." She cleared her throat and started over.

"I didn't expect it to be that color!"

Even worse. Heli nervously scratched her short locks of white hair with her free hand, embarrassed. The other one was outstretched and resting with the hand of the village elder. Her grey eyes drifted to a long string of yarn drifting out of her wrist, like a forbidden string of twizzlers. It was coming out from her wrist like an IV tube, and the end of it was reaching floating, towards the sky, almost like a balloon, like it was waiting to be carried away. 

It was the darkest black she'd ever seen. 

Darker than the night, darker than black paint, to the point where it startled her. 

It was scary. 

Everyone in the clearing was dead silent. 

"Child. Do you know what this means?" The voice of the person holding a candle said. Their voice was cold, serious, and dark - dark like the city. Heli swallowed. 

"It's… the color of my soul…" she whispered hesitantly. Her voice was soft, soft like morning rains, soft like a hesitant mist as it crept up forests. Her voice shattered the silence like glass breaking on bricks, nails scraping on tile.

"And it decides where you live. Up there -" The person said, pointing a single finger at the glimmering white skyscrapers above, smirking in superiority - "Or down there." She said, now lowering her fingers to point at the black layers, where trash and smoke alike were black, huddled together, wilting under the white stares. "That, my child, is for those who got almost black. Everyone has just a bit of good in them." The elder said, the candle flickering, whose tip was also as black as the string floating out of Heli's skin. 

"You have no good in you." 

Heli looked at her feet, suddenly fascinated by her toes. 

"You're a monster." The elder said. Her voice was murky, clouded. It sent chills fleeing down the child's spine. Heli stared at her feet. Her hand was still outstretched, and the string was now flickering in the wind as it howled, ruthlessly, climbing and screaming through the black buildings, roofs, and roads. 

The string was being violently shoved around, waving in the wind, up and down and up again. 

Suddenly, a hand grabbed Heli's. Heli looked up to see the village elder, her hand tight on Heli's wrist. It was white with pressure, and Heli's wrist was clutched tightly. It hurt. 

"Everyone. Please go." The person said tightly. Her voice was strained. The candle flickered once. For a minute, the flame went out. Once the elder tapped it lightly, it spluttered back to life. The child watched, entranced, as the flame became bigger and bigger, grasping, clawing, at the air. Now Heli's blood went cold. The fire was reaching towards her face. 

Heli struggled desperately against the wrist of the elder, but it was useless. Sharp stone hands grabbed her wrist, trapping, caging her. 

The flames reached towards her face. They were hot and burning, like an oven, like the sun, like a match. 

She screamed.