In 2980 A.D., the last country signed the treaty to adopt monarchy, and the whole planet Earth entered the era of complete monarchy. One of the largest countries, Hardiyan, is where this story unfolds.

Hardiyan, or Hardiyan Kingdom, is a strange, yet enchanting realm. In the year 2998, it is a hub for something extraordinary: supernatural powers. They vary from incredibly simple ones to more high dimensional ones such as being able to shape an object into anything. Most powers are useful and informative, yet where there is light there must be darkness… Not-so-welcome powers exist as well. The people who possess these powers are identified as ‘The Hermits’, the reason being that they reside in locations where no human would have ever thought of; either alone, or in small family-like pacts. The Hardiyans despised the Hermits, as they were known for their cruelness and mercilessness. Although, only God knows whether or not those descriptions were accurate. In the center of this conflict was the princess, Anastasia Harine.

Anastasia can be summed up in one single word: a star. She is everything a female desires to be; gorgeous looks, hair like the midnight sky, graceful yet cheerful manners and behavior, and most of all, her captivating crimson red eyes. People who have faced her unanimously state that her eyes seem to penetrate them, scouring their soul and gently, yet with authority, lowering them to their knees. On top of that, Anastasia is the only heir to the throne. She is the most loved figure in the country, and people long to know more about her. However, there was one, just one secret she could not reveal, which was her power.

“Cato! I will tell my own story! Didn’t I emphasize this last time as well?”
That is her, Princess Anastasia. Seems like she will take her precious time to tell you a story. Please, enjoy.
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Hello, my name is Anastasia Harine, but I preferred to be called Ana. As you already know, I am the princess of this kingdom, and the narrator. Let me start where Cato left off. Every citizen in Hardiyan possesses a power, no matter how small or big. During the first 16 years of our lives, we are only permitted to use a certain portion of the power. Rather than restriction, it is more of a safety seal that we are born with. On our 16th birthday, though, that seal finally breaks, and we are on our own. The Awakening Ceremony is an event celebrating that day when we finally become adults.

For me, that ceremony takes place in two months.

If that was the only issue, I would be in extreme delight, but sadly, God is not on my side. Like Cato explained to you, among the countless powers exist ones that are rejected and shunned. Those powers are like the two sides of a knife: well used, it is very beneficial. Nonetheless, if they are properties of the wrong people, the Earth may be in danger. They usually are destructive, dark, and occasionally involve summoning. People reject them because they are afraid, frightened that the Hermits’ powers will destroy them, put them to misery. So what is the second issue, which is also my secret? In addition to the upcoming ceremony, I have a power that makes me a Hermit.

“Ana, where are you? It is time for dress fitting!”

That is my mother, the Queen, calling me for preparations for the Ceremony when it is two months away. The preparation takes up quite some time, so I can understand her worries, but right now, I have more imminent issues to deal with.

In order to escape from the unbreakable grip of my mother, I hastily change into the maids’ clothes, which I have handy at all times, and slide out of the room, taking the poise of a maid immediately. Thanks to years of practice, no one notices me as I slip out of the modern palace. Oh, just a warning, if you, for some reason, wish to sneak into the palace, discard that plan this instant. The Harine palace is the hub of modern technology, armed with the most dangerous weapons ever in existence, therefore it is officially near impossible to infiltrate. So, a grand applause for me who has mastered the art of doing so. As soon as I am through the gates, I take off running, headed towards a safe haven, the only place I can be a 16-year-old Ana, not Princess Anastasia.

Crossing single log bridges, crawling through thorny shrubs, and splashing into miniature streams, I reach my destination. My little safe haven is a tiny tree house mounted on top of a giant tree, in the middle of the woods about three kilometers off to the countryside. The tree is so thick that it takes a full minute to walk around it, and my tree house, built when I was three, sits in the middle of the tree’s lush branches up high where from the ground it looks like a miniature version of its true size. I find my own royal symbol on the bark and inject my crimson red aura, (aura is the source of our powers) causing a rope ladder to drop down from the tree house. As usual, the ladder bounces off my head leaving a small bump. The only non-technological object I have ever witnessed since I was born is this tree house. Whoever built it probably was soaked in nostalgia of the old times.

After swiftly swinging up the ladder I slump down on the wall, giving a deep sigh. From the day I realized my power, I have been dreading this moment, and have tried to run away from reality. No sane person would be grateful for being destined to become one of the most hated people in the world. In addition, if I am gone there will be no heir and it is now too late for my parents to have another child. Yet I see no other choice but to surrender, thus I am mainly here to confirm my decision and get rid of any second thoughts.

While staring into space, I start absentmindedly playing with my aura, which takes form of snake-like tendrils to swirl around my hand, down my arm, before disappearing under my sleeves near my elbow. I’ve always loved the feeling of my aura; its warmness never fails to soothe me when I am near a mental break down. Today is no different. I sense my heartbeat decelerating, when all of a sudden, a snow white rabbit, the size of my forearm jumps in from the window and scares me out of my skin. There is a miniature scroll made of parchment tied to its back with a gold ribbon, and the scroll is sealed with an unknown pattern. The rabbit skips forward towards baffled me and offers the scroll. The scroll reads:
Your Highness, when hardship comes, it is best to follow your heart. - Your Trusty Old Staff
As soon as I reach the signature I burst out laughing. One reason being that my mentor always knows when I need him, and second is that signature is an inside joke between us. And that quote! It is a motto of his, which he attempts to make it mine as well whenever he has a chance to.

“Well, mister, my heart leads to you right now!” I mutter.

Folding the parchment until it is the size of my thumbnail, I tuck it inside the hidden pocket of the maid’s clothes safely. I never dare lose any information or advise my mentor gives me, because I don’t know when I will require them. I notice a stare and look up to spot the rabbit on the windowsill, ready to jump. When I meet his stare it motions as if to follow and leaps off. Startled, I rush to the window and look out, only to see the rabbit patiently sitting, waiting for me. I hastily hang the rope ladder and step down, keeping an eye on the rabbit in case it flees. Luckily, he waits for me and starts off in one direction. After several minutes of silently trailing the rabbit, he halts in front of an extremely worn, vine-covered wooden door, unlike the rest of the city. I instinctively know that this is the dwelling of my mentor. Ironically, although I have seen and known him for my whole life, this is the first time I have ever actually visited his home, because he always was summoned to the palace. For some reason, I am sweating from nervousness. I slowly raise my hand to knock on the ancient door when it bursts open, with my crazy mentor screaming from the top of his lungs.

“Ana! You are finally here! Do you even know how I long I have waited for you to visit!” He babbles on and on about how glad he is to have me here, leaving me in daze on his porch.
Exhausted already from hearing him, I say with a devious smile, “Cato? Don’t you think it is a little rude to leave a guest stranded on your porch? Especially when it is a person who can spill a little secret of yours?”
At that, Cato immediately pales and suddenly gains his manner back, saying, “Of course, Your Highness, I would be honored to have you here.”

Don’t think I missed that grunting back there, Cato! Anyhow, my mentor, Cato, is a young man who has been a teacher, a third parent, and a friend for my whole life. Why is he so young when he is a mentor, you might ask? He is not actually that young; in fact, nobody in the kingdom knows his exact age because he has been around for so long. Even in literature several centuries ago, the name Cato, the royal advisor, is mentioned. Surprisingly, even after those countless years of being alive, he still has not lost the lively vibe of a man in his twenties. The fact that he is a wizard also adds to his uniqueness.

“I see now that your heart has led to me, Ana. What do you have for me today? You always have some issue at hand when you come to me.”
“Stop that grin, Cato! I did not come for your silly jokes which are no good at all. Besides, you already know why I am here. That’s why you sent the guidance rabbit!” I snap at him.
“Well, well, there is some attitude. So, I believe you are here for counseling on the ceremony and your specific situation, correct?” At this point, his expression suddenly turns serious.
“Yes, and as usual, you probably have a perfectly fitting advice, if I predict.”
“To begin with, let’s recap your situation. Your Awakening Ceremony, which is planned to be the most luxurious in centuries, is in two months. However, your power ruins the happy part, and you are most likely destined to be a Hermit, and be hated for rest of history. The belief that Hermits are the worst creatures on Earth is plain prejudice, and we both know that. In my opinion, people’s prejudice is as hard to change as a stubborn mule. I have centuries of statistics to prove it, if you care to look into it. The only time when there had been a possibility for change was when there was either sacrifice, or sincere truth, sincere enough so that people are deeply moved by it. In your case, I think a candid public speech will cut it. Of course, it will have to be exceedingly carefully worded, and you will have to speak with true emotion. Do you think you are capable of that?”
Listening to his suggestion, I thought of possible scenarios after I gave that speech, if I gave it at all. Would they jeer at me and throw stones? Would I be killed from those stones? Or would they burn me at stake? What if…
“Hey, Ana! Snap out of it!” Cato snaps his fingers in front of my face to get me out of the daze. It seems like I was trapped inside dark visions about my death and he helped me out.
“I’m sorry, Cato. I was too caught up in my own thoughts. Anyway, do you think this is going to work?”
“I’ve seen it at work, in some powerful people’s hands, and it worked marvelously. But in the end, it all depends on you.”
“It sounds like there isn’t much of a choice there, isn’t it? All right, I either die, or become a Hermit. Or there is the one-in-a-million chance of people listening.”
“I want to say it is not a black or white choice, yet the situation only offers so much.”
The situation is that if I succeed in persuading my people that people that possess Hermit powers are not evil, then all is good and maybe, possibly, currently existing Hermits may be able to return to their previous lives before their exile. However, if I do not succeed, which is clearly the dominant opinion, not only I will suffer either by death or painful exile, but also rest of the Hermits will be accused as well for supporting my confession. I will not let innocent people be harmed because of me! At least for the sake of Hermits, I have to succeed in this venture towards acceptance.
“Would you help me prepare for my speech, Cato? I can’t let two months go to waste just attending dress fittings,” I said, grinning stupidly to Cato. He responded with the same smile. “It will be my honor, Your Highness.”
The next one and a half month passes by like wind. I spend most of my time writing, revising, and practicing my speech countless times. Cato also contributes, attempting to plant positive impressions about Hermits, and of course, helping me rehearse.
At last, the day comes where I will either face doom, or survive. The palace and the roads leading up to it are decorated extravagantly, and the palace yard and the common square beyond it are jam-packed with people. People that will hear my speech. People that possibly will be calling for my blood. People who might save the unfairly persecuted.
“Your Highness, it is time to go,” my maid hurries me.
“All right, Sophie, time for some madness.”
As I step onto the stage specially made for me, I see the delighted, loving faces of my people, restless for the Ceremony to start. On the stage a banner where the royal symbol imprinted on it is hanging above me, and on it it says “Congratulations Princess Anastasia for Her Highness’s Awakening Ceremony”. What a cliché expression! Beneath the banner stands Cato, dressed in this formal attire for once. Beside him, beaming proudly are my parents, the King and the Queen. I feel sorry for them because in just a few minutes, I will be ruining the perfect moment for them.

The fanfare echoes through the silenced crowd and Cato, who is the host of this Ceremony, reads out a lengthy speech about what it means to become an adult and have one’s power unleashed. Next step is the actual Awakening part of the Ceremony. I step onto the bizarre pattern Cato has drawn on top of the stage, and with a shaky hand, I start to cast my power, the ability to bestow blessings and curses, the two sides of a knife, sheathed in crimson.
“For the peace and well being of Hardiyans, let the soil of Hardiyan be richer!”
From my hands, countless tendrils of crimson red aura stretches out, further and further, until it touches every piece of soil near the palace. When all of them do, the pattern underneath begins to glow brightly, and I feel something inside shatter, like glass breaking. Then I feel a rush of power and suddenly, the tendrils multiply tenfold and extend towards the crowd. The crowd gasps and surges back. The air buzzes with suspense as I briefly plead the crowd silently with my eyes. They are whispering amongst themselves, obviously gossiping about how I was destined to be a Hermit.
“Why?” I whisper, panic creeping into my voice. I have always feared this would happen, but it is something else to experience it in person. I draw back my aura and look at the crowd. Then someone shouts, “Begone, wicked Hermit!” The crowd shout after the voice, and eggs, tomatoes, and stones start to fall. Receiving the rubbish without reaction, I turn to look at my parents who are bearing the same expression as everyone else in the crowd. I feel my tears coming.
“People of Hardiyan!” I shout, “Right now I stand here with the wish of being accepted by my people.” The plummeting fruits and stones halt.
“I acknowledge that for centuries now, people such as I were despised, shunned, and hated. But now I desire to change that. My power is of giving blessings. I have just given a blessing to the soil near the palace. I am perfectly willing to carry out that blessing to every one of you, and take all the cost of it gladly, if that is what it takes for you to accept me. However, the most important thing is that you understand there is no actual difference between you and me. You, and the Hermits. We eat the same way, we behave the same way, we feel the same way, most of all, we are not just destructive. I have just showed you that my power can be so much more productive than destructive, and I am sure that there are powers out there that cannot show their full benevolence due to our prejudice. So please! People of Hardiyan, there may be neighbors, sons, daughters, grandsons and granddaughters that may be suffering from the same issue as I am this very moment. Do this for them, not me. Do this for the bright future of yourselves, not a single individual who is standing in front of you. Accept them! Let them show you what they can do!”
When I finish speaking, the crowd is deadly silent. Then, someone shouts out, “She is not a princess! She is a dirty Hermit! Exile her!”
Oh, why don’t they understand my true intentions? Is Cato really wrong? Are prejudices really not changeable? I believed in myself, and trusted in them, but now they turn away for such a foolish reason! Ah! Fools!
At this point, the crowd is charging up the stage, armed with farming tools that came out of nowhere to drag me down, and no doubt burn me at the stakes. I glance at my parents, who turn away coldly from me. It is as expected, but I cannot stop feeling disappointed, a constant prick on my heart. On the other hand, Cato quickly approached me and offered, “Ana, they will get rid of you by whatever means. What would you like to do?”
“What can I do, Cato? Send me to the Hermits, I’ll find a way to come back,” I’m sure Cato saw the glint in my eye, because his expression turned to worry.
“All right, Your Highness, you will be warped to the entrance of the residence of the Hermits. They will provide everything for you. May the aura bless you.” At that note, the pattern underneath me glows again, and I find my vision becoming blurry. The last thing I hear is Cato whispering, “Goodbye, My Princess.”
I tried my best to bring two divided groups together, but failed, and I was exiled for it. Although I now take a step back, I will someday return and fulfill my dream. Until that day, farewell.