I waded through a sea of shallow graves, knee deep in water that seemed to stretch forever. We called it the garden.

  On its surface, warped images of the city above bobbed with the ripples of the water, like dancers performing for an audience of corpses.

  The city was easiest to see this time of day. Normally, I’d let myself stare, but today, I couldn’t.

  Around me, women chattered their gossip as I worked, scanning the surface for flowers.

  I waded towards a patch where they glowed brighter than the rest. Their petals seemed to breathe, as azure light moved into them from the stems beneath the water. A recent burial.

  Mareth...Corren...Fenric...?

  I gave up, too many had died in the last week alone, and we weren’t allowed to mark the graves. That was to discourage any visitors that might trample the delicate network of vines beneath the surface of the water. Only Ashands were permitted to wade the shallow waters of the garden, collecting the souls that bloomed there.

  I always felt hollow when I imagined the strangers resting below, but I was never sure why. It wasn’t as if I knew them, and according to the Sanctari they weren’t dead at all, just empty vessels. Unbound from bone and breath, or however the psalm went.

  Like many of the Sanctari’s teachings, that one didn't make sense...At least not to me. If the flowers were our souls, then why did so many grow from a single corpse? Were each of them a piece of a soul? Or did a single person have many souls? I sighed, knowing the sickness would take me before I ever got an answer. Even asking would do little more than earn me a beating from one of the elder Ashands. The thought of that upset me more.

  Why didn’t they want to know? Why didn’t anyone else ever THINK about anything?

  My palm stung as I clenched my fist, a palm I’d accidentally sliced on glass the night before. I reminded myself I needed to hurry as I gathered the vines, cutting away the flowers in one neat stroke before placing them atop the pile in my basket.

  My stomach dropped when I noticed the other Ashands had already left for the temple.

  They’ll come for me soon.

  My shoulders tensed at the sound of footsteps slopping behind me. I turned just as something blunt struck the back of my head, sending me stumbling.

  The world spun as hands grasped my rubber suit, thrusting me on my back to land under the water. I knew I couldn’t fight all four of them. Instead, I kept my head and body submerged, letting the water soften their kicks as they drove their feet into me. Knowing it would tire them out.

  The valve in my helmet slid shut as they surrounded me. It’d keep the water out, but it also meant the only air I had was inside my helmet. I held my breath, waiting for it to end, for an opportunity to do something.

  I didn’t even need to see them to know it was Ada and her shadows. They’d come to take my harvest again.

  How had I earned this? I thought, as they glared at me like an animal. Like I wasn’t one of them. Snarls painted across their faces as they pummeled me through the water, their fists battering against the visor of my helmet.

  A pit opened in my stomach, giving way to dread. I swallowed it, remembering how little food we had left.

  Today was ration day. More harvest meant more rations, and they aren’t taking my fucking rations. Not this time.

  One by one, they each hurled a final blow before wading toward my basket. I glanced at the counter in my helmet. Still 20 minutes till turn in.

  Gritting my teeth, I waited for the odds to even, springing from the water when only one stood over me.

  I gripped at the last girl’s leg, thrusting her backward. She flailed her arms, splashing under the surface as I stood, gasping for air. They huddled over my basket, backs turned as they divided its contents into their own. My breath caught as one of them held a bloom toward the sun, inspecting the shimmer as they twirled it in their fingers. Marta, I recognized, as she turned, reacting to the splash.

  Time slowed as she opened her mouth to warn the others. My heart rattled inside my chest.

  I had half a second to catch the other two off guard...to grab a basket and run, it had to be one of theirs since they'd nearly finished emptying mine. I barreled forward, thudding a knee off Marta's face as I gripped the handle of her basket. The others stood, clawing at me, and missing as I lurched backward, pushing off the mud beneath the water with my other leg.

  My hands trembled from conflicting jolts of fear and exhilaration as I clutched the stolen basket to my chest, breaking into a run. If I can make it into town, that would be better. They won’t be able to touch me...not in front of the guards.

  All my confidence sank away as my foot caught on a vine. I stumbled forward, landing on one knee, a hand outstretched to break my fall as the other clutched the basket to my chest. Their feet smacked against the water inches behind me as I scrambled, shivering from the fresh surge of adrenaline skittering up my spine.

  Their hands clasped the rubber of my suit, tugging me backwards. Only three paces from the shoreline...I was so close.

  Rage burned through me, consuming my thoughts, my words, as I screamed my hatred, thrashing against them like a wounded animal.

  They drove me back under, two of them holding me down with their heels as I snarled beneath the surface. My hands shot out of the water, grasping for purchase, slipping uselessly from their suits as they pried them away.

  Do they mean to drown me? I writhed at the thought, incensed by a wild, desperate kind of anger as my air ran out. They knew the helmets didn’t work underwater; they couldn’t take in anything. The valve was shut while submerged. I expected them to let me up, to let me breathe. Instead, tears stung my eyes as Ada and Marta’s heels smacked against my helmet, the anger and adrenaline dulling the pain just enough for the humiliation to bleed through. I wanted to ruin them. I wanted them to know, to feel the same pain, this same powerless rage.

  My heart still slammed inside my ribs when their beating finally ended.

  Are they done? Had they humiliated me enough?

  Ada tugged against my arm, pulling my head above the water.

  “See?” she shot at the others, “No marks. No one would care anyways.”

  I sucked in air, coughing and sputtering as I watched them retrieve the basket I’d taken from Marta. My heart skipped as Ada’s eyes turned from me to the baskets they held.

  10 minutes till turn in.

  Wounded and reeling, I forced myself up, legs shaking as I rose to their height.

  “I’m the only one who works in my family.” I begged, as if they just didn’t know, didn’t understand the pain they were causing. As if explaining it would make them stop.

  “Shut up,” Ada said, spilling the air from my lungs with a fist to my stomach. I staggered, gasping as my diaphragm spasmed. “If you all starve, then the gods wanted you to starve.”

  "The gods...didn’t...take it...you-,” I wheezed, flinching as a fist crowded my vision.

  I landed spine first in the muck beneath the water, hands outstretched behind me to keep my head and chest above the surface.

  More tears stung at my eyes, blurring my vision as another round of blows rained down on me. I crossed an arm over my face to shield myself, burning at the futility of it when their kicks drove into my stomach instead. The most infuriating part was knowing I could take Ada alone, but she never was.

  “She barely collected anything,” one of them complained as they finished dividing the blooms from the basket I'd taken.

  “You hid more somewhere, didn’t you?” Ada confronted, eyes narrowing as she hovered over me.

  “No,” I coughed, “that’s...all I had.”

  “Let’s go, Ada, we’ll miss turn in,” one of the other girls said, tugging impatiently at her shoulder.

  “If you mention this to the Sanctari, we’ll tell him all about the little herbs you take from the forest,” she threatened, driving her heel to thud against my face a final time before turning to leave.

  I floated there, sore and burning with rage as their footsteps sloshed into the distance.

  Rations were only given once a month...Ada knew that...she knew my mother was dying, and she didn’t care.

  With a grunt, I pulled myself to my feet, limping toward my now empty basket. Well, almost empty. I tipped it over, smiling as I dumped a few flowers they’d neglected to steal. The crushed glass and blue dye made for convincing fakes, especially when combined with the lilies that grew at the edge of the forest. Still, they weren’t perfect. Wounds throbbed over every inch of my body; the price I paid to keep them focused on me instead of the flowers.

  If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  It would all be worth it if this worked.

  Eying the fakes, I felt a pang of guilt trying to worm its way into my thoughts. I shook it away, reminding myself how many times they’d stolen my harvest.

  Ada and her friends didn’t care, so why should I? It’s not like I forced them to rob me. It wasn’t my fault they were about to ruin their own lives. In truth, I had no idea what kind of punishment they’d get. Nobody’d ever tried to turn in fakes, but I knew it would be bad. Hopefully bad enough for them to think twice before stealing from me again.

  I unzipped the front of my suit far enough to reach a hidden pocket; one I’d stitched into my dress with material from an old suit. After making sure I was alone, I pulled out the real blooms I’d stashed there, frowning as I placed them into the basket. I couldn't fit much in the pocket, but it should still get me some rations. If I can make it back in time for turn in.

  I launched into a sprint, water bursting upward with each step as I rushed toward the village.

  Stone cottages and wooden huts blurred past as I ran; gaze fixed on the temple’s black spire, cutting into the sky between them. By the time the temple filled my vision, my lungs were on fire.

  I bowed my head to the guards as I jogged through the outer gates, neither returned the gesture, their faces unreadable behind their helmets.

  The temple doors were still open. I slowed to a walk, letting air scream into my lungs, relief coursing through my veins as I slipped behind Marta at the end of the line. This was going to work.

  Everyone faced forward, eyes trained on the ground as they waited to ascend the low altar. Only Ada and her group remained. One of the older Ashands had just ascended when I walked inside, already in the process of depositing her flowers.

  They would’ve heard me take my place behind them, would’ve known that everyone else had already turned in…but it was too late for them to figure out why. I dug into the cut on my palm to keep myself from smiling as a few of their heads twitched. They had to be curious why I’d bothered to come, but none of them dared turn around. In front of the Sanctari, that wouldn’t be proper. It wasn’t actually a rule, but they were all too stupid to ask.

  Ada stood at the front, about to turn in. Nerves twisted in my gut as I craned my neck, trying to steal a peek at their baskets. Marta’s was the only one I could see clearly, but it was still brimming with flowers. Too full to have discarded the fakes…and If she hadn’t, then the others hadn’t either.

  I swallowed hard, chest buzzing as Ada’s boots rang each step. She halted atop the dais, bowing once to the Eldest Ashand before approaching the Sanctari. He stood almost two feet taller than Ada, who was taller than most our age.

  “Dear Father,” She tipped her basket forward, the sweetness in her tone making me want to vomit, “I consign these-” Her words broke off with a gasp as the Sanctari’s hand shot out, clutching the edge of her basket before she could empty its contents.

  “What foolishness is this?” He plucked one of the fakes from her basket, twirling it in his fingers. I suppressed the urge to shudder as he held it toward the light, letting a pale, skinny arm slip out from underneath the fine silver threads of his robe.

  Ada stared up at it; she must’ve finally realized because she started sifting through her basket. She made a series of confused noises, almost too stunned to speak. “I didn- That isn’t-” She spun, incensed as she searched for me in a panic. I knew better than to gloat, forcing my eyes to the floor as the Elder Ashand’s shrill voice blared.

  “What have you done, Ada?” The Elder demanded, stepping forward to peer inside her basket. “Fake…” She breathed, eyes wide as she held one of them for herself.

  “I didn’t—”

  “DO NOT SPEAK, GIRL,” the Elder shouted, looking from Ada to see the other three girls rifling through their baskets, frantically discarding the fakes on the floor. I took a step backwards to make it clear I wasn’t involved. “WHO ELSE OFFERS LIES TO THE GODS?” She stormed from the altar, ripping each of their baskets away, her face somehow reddening even more as she tossed each aside. When the Elder finally reached me, Marta tried to turn, sobbing.

  “Elder, I—" Marta tried. The Elder cut her off.

  “WE DO NOT SPEAK IN THE TEMPLE OTHER THAN TO RECITE THE OFFERING PRAYER,” she screamed an inch from Marta’s face.

  Another stupid rule, I thought, my eyes still trained on the marble beneath my feet as the Elder tore my basket away.

  Her voice calmed once she finished examining mine. She thrust the basket into my chest, hard enough to make me stumble backwards, before turning to address the Sanctari. “Only this one does not offer lies. What penance would you give the others?”

  “Abnegation for one cycle,” the Sanctari responded, the mildness of his tone unmatching the severity of his words. Abnegation meant no rations…and a cycle was a year. Marta sobbed in front of me, making my chest tighten even as the other three remained silent. A thread of guilt started to unravel before I tied it off.

  No. I wasn’t going to let myself feel sorry for them. They had families that worked, that earned rations…and they did this to themselves.

  The Elder’s face paled. “One…cycle, father?”

  The Sanctari’s elongated fingers cradled his chin. He regarded Ada as he spoke. “This one may demonstrate her piety by assisting with the new planting, if she does, the other deceivers will be absolved.”

  The new planting? What does that even mean?

  “Please, Ada,” one of the girls hissed. Marta ceased her sobbing, her head perking up.

  “SILENCE,” the elder shouted at the girls. Ada turned toward the elder, who stared gravely at her. It was almost imperceptible but the elder was shaking her head. I’d never seen her look so serious.

  “You may not offer council here, elder,” the Sanctari said, a warning concealed inside his softspoken tone. He regarded Ada. “What say you, deceiver?”

  Ada swallowed. “Assist? Like with the bodies?” she shot a glance back at her friends, all of them still vigorously nodding. Her eyes met mine for a moment. She smirked at me in a way that said she had no intention of leaving me alone after this. My knuckles whitened around the handle of my basket. She’ll probably just come straight for my rations now instead…and doing this would assure her little gang would help her do it. “I’m not afraid. I’ll do it.”

  “Very well. Remove your helmet.”

  Ada hesitated. Ashand’s weren’t to remove any part of their suit, not before being cleansed…but it was the Sanctari asking it. She tried to look to the elder for guidance, but the elder was looking down, fists clenched at her sides.

  Why was the elder acting like this?

  Finally, Ada unclasped the seal and pulled her helmet off. The girls all screamed as the Sanctari’s bony hands wrapped around Ada’s head, twisting it to the side. No sooner than she collapsed, two guards ascended the altar to carry her corpse away. Before they did, I watched in horror as the Sanctari knelt before Ada’s body, his spider like hand parting her lips as he placed a bulb inside.

  “No…” I trembled, gagging as my basket fell to the floor. I hadn’t meant…not for this. I just wanted them to stop. My hands shook. I stared at them, the world around me turning to glass before the elder’s wrist gripped my shoulder, jostling me awake.

  “You,” the elder spat as she led the other three toward the changing rooms. “Turn in your harvest.”

  I dug my nails into the cut on my palm, trying to break free of my stupor as I picked up my basket. a high-pitched ring filled the space between my ears as I climbed the steps.

  “I consign these souls to the eternal garden,” I recited, voice shaking as I tipped the basket, transferring its contents to the container at the Sanctari’s feet. The flowers within pulsed a soft glow, as if sighing a breath.

  “May our living gods preserve them.”

  I bowed my head as I accepted the single pack of rations and turned to leave. This won’t even last two weeks. My grip tightened until I felt some of the food crumble inside the pack.

  Why was I even mad about that? I knew this plan would leave me with fewer rations, I’d known when I’d sewn the hidden pocket that I could only stash so much. My mind raced to every possibility for why I was upset, except the one most obvious.

  I murdered Ada…Sure, I didn’t force her to rob me, but I knew she would. My fists were balled so tightly my arms began to shake. Why would she say yes? It was obvious the Elder was trying to warn her.

  My mind was a jumble of guilt and grief as it tried to make sense of it. I made my way to the changing room, flinching as I passed through the violet lights and swirling mists of the antechamber.

  Thankfully, the elder and Ada’s friends had already gone when the door slid open. Something to be grateful for as I paced the tiled floor toward my locker.

  I peeled away my suit, wiping my brow as I stowed it, cringing at the sweat-soaked dress that clung uncomfortably to my skin. One of my least favorite feelings.

  “Could be worse,” I said aloud, thinking of Ada.

  Sighing, I gripped the sides to fan it out before smoothing the fabric back into place. My eyes went wide when I noticed the slight bulge. Panic surged as I held the pocket open to find a flower still clinging there.

  If anyone caught me with this, I wouldn’t just be killed…My heart hammered as I pictured the iron pyre. The crowd jeering, laughing at my screams as my flesh blackened and bubbled. No preservation, no garden of light...just painful, humiliating death.

  Even putting all that aside, this was someone’s soul. Wasn’t it? I stood paralyzed, gnawing the inside of my cheeks as I played through the options in my mind.

  I could tell them I found it stuck on my suit…I’d still be punished…but only for my clumsiness. If I took it from the temple I’d be punished for desecration…and not just me, they might kill my whole family. Sure, my mother was almost dead, and my father may as well be, but Rheinnan…After a moment of cursing and bashing my fist against my skull, I finally decided.

  Knowing the Sanctari would consider it defiled if I let it touch bare skin, I moved to my locker, unfurling my suit to unzip one of its gloves. Wearing it, I reached into my pocket, clasping the stem to coax the flower free. I closed my eyes, inhaling as if my lungs could pull the courage I needed from the air.

  I hurried from the changing room, the flower resting gently in my palm as I tried to outpace my doubt. This is the right thing to do, I repeated, marching toward the nave.

  The empty room gave me pause for a moment, until I remembered I was last to turn in.

  The inside was silent, save for the stone floors echoing my footsteps. Orange light filtered in through the stained glass above the altar, casting sunset hues.

  I took the hallway to the left of the altar, realizing the Sanctari must be in the rectory.

  The corridor was dim, lined with iron sconces and tall wooden doors. All closed except for one, cracked just slightly, warm light spilling onto the stone. I stood just outside it, anxiety swelling in my gut as I glanced at the flower still resting in my palm.

  I raised my hand to knock, my knuckles stopping a hair from the wooden frame as the Sanctari spoke from inside.

  “My Lord, we simply do not have enough-”

  Lord…the Sanctari was speaking to a god. I froze, half of my mind screaming to run, the other too curious to let my feet move.

  “If you don’t have enough corpses, then make them,” another man said, one I didn’t recognize.

  A thin scraping sound followed, a chair shifting on stone.

  “My lord, there is…a balance. Birth rates have already declined significantly since your father appointed you here.” The Sanctari’s voice sounded strained, slippery in a way I’d never heard from any of the ghostly priests.

  “Are you questioning my father’s wisdom?” The man asked, far too casually for someone speaking to the Sanctari.

  “No, Lord,” the Sanctari answered, “but if we do not address the imbalance, this village will become insolvent…as one other already has. If you would allow me to—"

  “Thanks to you and your…balance, I have an admiral in low orbit, pestering me twice a day about requisitions being delayed,” he interrupted, arrogance dripping off each word.

  “I understand, Lord, but the parameters were designed to prevent this very outcome…had they been followed—”

  “Enough of your parameters.” The man shouted. Just then, something whined and snapped, the sound nearly stopping my heart as wooden pieces clattered against the floor. “When the empire demands more, we produce more. Even if it requires us to liquidate. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, lord. Today’s harvest will be processed imminently.”

  “Good, and the shipment?”

  “The admiral’s shipment is nearing completion, lord.”

  “Yes, well, it’d better be,” he scolded. “If I have to hear one more bureaucrat from the quartermaster’s office lecture about sons and daughters of the empire dying without their treatments, I will come down here, and I will pry you apart for scrap.”

  “Yes, lord.”

  Treatments? I stared at the flower, my fascination cut short by fear racing up my spine as footsteps drew closer. I crept backwards, holding my breath as I eyed the narrow ray of light leaking from the crack in the door. It was growing wider, whining open just as I made it into the temple.

  Hi! I'm Toad sage, author of this story. I'd really appreciate any feedback you have for me. Please drop a comment if you have any ideas or suggestions, and don't forget to rate/review if you want this story to reach more eyes.