Powers of the Six by Kristal Shaff

line of people waited near the Rol’dan lodge where Nolan would perform the monumental task of assigning five hundred fifteen-year-olds to groups.
    He set his things on a large oak desk. It would be a long night, especially since it hurt to breathe. To make matters stranger, Alec hovered over his shoulder. Nolan wasn’t sure why, though he assumed guilt played a role. Instead of joining the other competitors, Alec stood watch, his arms crossed over his chest like Nolan’s personal guard. Am I so pathetic that I need a guard?
    Alec caught Nolan’s eye and nodded, as if his position were completely natural, like it was commonplace for scribes to have escorts protect them from the abuse of passing Rol’dan generals.
    Nolan forced back a smile. He’d ignore the odd behavior, for now.
    “All right now. Who’s first?” Nolan said.
    A redheaded boy came forward.
    “Name?” Nolan took the scroll from his outstretched hand.
    “Alden Sullivan.”
    “Where are you from, Alden?”
    “Tydros.”
    Nolan dipped the quill and copied his name into one of the four color groups that would begin to take form.
    “You join the red group. Your camp is to the far right.” He handed him a red strip of cloth and pointed toward a grouping of tents where a flag flew.
    The boy stared. “Red?”
    “Aye, red.” Nolan sighed. It had started already. The color segregation made this task much harder than it had to be.
    “No,” the boy said, “I can’t be in red. Father told me specifically to be in blue. My grandfather’s brother was an Accuracy archer in his day.” He puffed his chest. “So our family needs to stay in blue.”
    Nolan met his eyes, hardening his stare. “Well today, you’ll be red.”
    He started to protest, but Nolan ignored him. “Next!”
    The boy had no choice but to trudge away. After a solid hour of constant arguing, and the occasional cheer when Nolan got a color “right,” a girl came forward, her hair bouncing around her shoulders in golden curls.
    “Name?”
    “Taryn Trividar.”
    Nolan lowered his quill. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”
    She smiled. “Taryn Trividar.”
    Nolan gawked. No. It couldn’t be. Had she changed that much in two years?
    She cocked her head. “Is something wrong, sir?”
    “Sir?” Nolan snickered “By Brim, you look like your mother now.”
    “You know my mother, sir?”
    “Of course. Uncle Camden wouldn’t let us forget how pretty she was. He went on and on about it every single day. And it’s hard to forget Aunt Alana’s cooking.” Nolan sighed and leaned back in his chair, savoring the memories.
    “Nolan? Crows!” She scanned his face, then frowned. “What happened to you? I didn’t even recognize you.”
    Nolan coughed into his hand. “Just an accident. I’ll be fine.”
    Alec snorted behind him.
    “How’s Uncle Camden?” Nolan said, hoping to distract her. “Have you missed me?”
    Her concern transformed into a wide grin. “It’s been so calm since you left. I think Papa actually misses the trouble.”
    “Cousins?” Alec said, gawking.
    Taryn’s lips quirked.
    “This is Alec Deverell,” Nolan said. “He’s attending the tournament as well.”
    “Pleasure to meet you, Alec.” She extended her hand.
    Alec grabbed it and shook it like a sailor. He must have realized his mistake, because he dropped his grip and gave a small, awkward bow.
    It was so good to see her. Nolan wanted to talk, to ask how everyone back home was doing. Curiosity even made him wonder how his father had been. Nolan was about to say something, but he noticed the huge line winding around the lodge. The boy behind Taryn shifted his feet impatiently.
    Nolan cleared his throat. “I suppose I should get to work.” He motioned toward the line. “Maybe we can talk again later tonight or between challenges?”
    “Oh, yes,” Taryn said. “I’d like that very much.”
    Nolan handed her a blue strip of cloth. “Take care of yourself, Taryn.”
    She scowled as her