The Name You Gave Me

Chapter 1 - The Meaning Ceremony

Nothing is the same once it is broken. It is impossible to erase the cracks of a shattered glass in hopes of returning it to what it once was. The same can be said for a person's mind, for their outlook on a certain topic. My whole life, all I have known is broken.

My name is Rohanna Amelia Perez and my home is Cliden. Cliden is one of the Six Kingdoms that make up what once was known as America. It is also the poorest kingdom. The kingdom with the least say in how things are ran. The largest kingdom, Frindale, makes all of the rules. Nobody dares to go against them.

Here in Cliden I live with my younger sister Portia and my Aunt Penelope. My mother died after my sister was born, so my aunt took us in. Her brother, my Uncle Lincoln, helps out when he is around, but often times he is working in the marina. Despite my aunt merely being a weaver, her fiancé, Felix, makes sure that we are all taken care off. They don't live together, but you can tell that he really loves her.

You may be wondering why my aunt just doesn't pick a different job, one that is more financially stable, but that isn't how it works here in Cliden. In fact, that isn't how it works in any of the Six Kingdoms.

You see, when a baby is born, its mother does not get to choose his or her name. Instead, once a year there is a Naming Ceremony. There, all of the babies born that year are given a name from the Counsel. The Counsel is a man or woman who is chosen to be over the Naming and Meaning Ceremonies, both which happen once a year. They are rumored to be the wisest in all of the kingdom.

The Meaning Ceremony occurs once you turn eighteen. Once a year, all of the eighteen-year-olds are gathered at the Arena and the Counsel reads off the meaning of their name. This determines what they do in life. Their name meaning determines if they can or can't have kids, if they can get married, what their job will be, etc. Most people in Cliden are meant to work in the Woodshop or to be killed as sacrifices. That is where my story begins.

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I stare at myself in the mirror. It's cracked, sending a line through my reflection. Today is the day that determines everything. Today is the day of my Meaning Ceremony. Today is the day that I find out what I am meant to do in my life. Am I meant to become a weaver, like my aunt? Or a fisherman, like my uncle? Often my little sister, Portia, asks me what I would do if I were chosen to become a princess, but that's a joke. She's sixteen and still has fantasies that she feels are worth entertaining.

A whisp of a breath escapes my full lips as I take in my appearance. Both of my parents were Hispanic, so my skin is light brown and my hair is black and thick. It's wavy and brushes just below my shoulders. My eyes are hazel, the perfect mixture of green and brown that give them a jewel tone when in the sunlight.

I force myself to smile even though my nerves are eating me alive on the inside and watch as the dimples appear on either side. What if I am chosen to be a sacrifice? They say that you should be grateful to have a name worthy of such a deed, but I can't see the glory in having to die before you officially even become an adult. All I see is a hopeless situation that one can only wish to escape.

As I close my eyes for a brief moment, I can hear my door open as the eerie creaking sound fills my ears. Once the scent of wildflowers reaches my nose, it doesn't take me long to know that it is Portia who has entered my room. She must have been in the flower fields with her friends again.

"Are you nervous?"

My eyes flutter open as I gaze into the mirror, watching my sister's reflection come to settle behind me. We look alike, though she is a bit slenderer and her hair is straight and long. I find my head nodding on its own accord.

"Very," I say, my heart skipping a beat as I admit to myself being nervous, "I don't want to turn out how mom was."

Mom...Such a powerful name given to someone who was never in our lives. Not that we remember anyways. Her name meant 'the rebellious woman,' so she was never given a job. Instead, she was forced to be taken care of by her brother and sister, my Aunt Penelope and Uncle Lincoln. And then after Portia's Naming Ceremony, she died.

At the mention of mom, I can see Portia's hazel eyes dim. The childish glee that once fills them vanishes. She had always yearned to meet her. But me? Not so much. Even if I did meet her, no stranger could fill the void that resides in me.

"Come on, Portia, you know what I mean. I want to be allowed to actually do something with my life. I don't want to be without work or a weaver and have to depend on everyone else..." I whisper, my voice growing softer as I turn in my chair to face her.

"I know...and I want that for you too, Rohanna," Portia says quietly and then a glimmer appears in her eyes once more, "What if you're chosen to be a princess?"

At her words, I can't help but to laugh and I can hear her light giggles echoing me. Every Meaning Ceremony, a handful are chosen to be princes and princesses and are allowed to reside in the palace for one year. They are all mainly from the upper class, ironically. The king and queen then are allowed to choose two to take their place. Usually, they only do so once one is sick or if they have grown old.

"Well, if I become a princess, I will be sure to tell you all about the handsome princes that I will be around," I tease her, knowing that my words will appease to her fantasies. As much as I want to be happy in life, I wish for Portia to be even more happy.

As her giggles die down, my door opens once more and reveals my Aunt Penelope. Her skin color is the same as ours, but other than that we look nothing alike. She is short and plump, with dark brown, frizzy hair and brown eyes.

"Now what are you two girls in here giggling about?" She asks as she leans against the doorway. She is clearly amused by our state, perhaps because I have been so tense recently.

"Rohanna was just telling me that once she becomes a princess that she will tell me all about her princes," Portia blurts as she grins. This earns a gentle smile from my aunt as she chuckles, shaking her head slowly.

"Well, Rohanna won't be doing anything if we are late to her ceremony, so why don't we let her get ready?" Aunt Penelope suggests. As she goes to shut the door, she stops and pokes her head back out. "Oh, and whenever you are done, Emilio is waiting for you in the kitchen." With that being said, she is gone.

A smile finds its way to my lips at the mention of Emilio. He is my childhood best friend and the one person who I know I can count on regardless of what is going on. With his presence being in mind, I quickly run a brush through my hair and stand, taking in my appearance in the cracked mirror.

A simple white dress adorns my body and the straps of it loosely hang off my shoulders. My shoes are white sandals, not heels as many of the girls will be wearing. I know that my Aunt Penelope doesn't have a lot of money, so I didn't even think to ask her for a new pair of shoes. My eyes glance around the room, looking for something to at least help me impress the Counsel. Not that it matters, of course, as my name meaning has already been determined by the Counsel since the day I was born.

Finally, my eyes land on a white rose. Portia and her friend, Emma, had picked it for me earlier during the day. With ease I pick it up and gently slip it into my hair, just over my ear. Now I am ready. I am sure of it.

I walk out of my room once I gather all of my courage and down the short and dusty hallway to the kitchen. There I see Emilio laughing as Portia talks to him with a certain energy that I find myself longing for. I let them continue for a second, knowing when my presence is known that it would all end. After another moment, I clear my throat and both of their heads turn so that they can see me.

"Ro!" Emilio exclaims with excitement as he jumps up and hugs me. I can feel the urgency in the hug by the tightness. He is nervous, but the feeling is mutual.

When he pulls away, just keeping me at an arm’s length, I allow myself to gaze at him. His curly black hair is unruly as always and his brown eyes light and playful. There is a mole on his cheek that has been there for as long as I can remember. Yep...He is my best friend and he has been for many years.

Many people thought that, if our names permitted us the ability to marry, that we would, someday in the future, be together. At one point, Emilio even expressed his feelings for me, but I have just never felt the same way as strongly as he has. I love Emilio, but I was always too scared to ruin our friendship.

"Hey Lio," I say, using my nickname for him, "Are you ready for the ceremony?" I can tell by the look in his eyes that he knows I am nervous, but it isn't something that I can hide.

With a nod of his head, he answers. "Of course, I am ready. I was born ready," he chuckles before he continues, "I came by to see if I could walk you to the Arena. I mean, everyone who is receiving their meaning has to sit together anyways."

I feel a smile form on my lips. It's quite silly, in my opinion, that he still feels the need to ask. But perhaps it is just his nerves showing through his cheerful facade.

"Of course, you can walk with me. It can't be any worse than having to listen to Portia babble on about how I could be a princess by the end of the day," I say as I link our arms and walk to the door. With every step that I take, I can feel my chest tightening as if it is warning me to stop and to run back to my bedroom and shut my door. But I can't. Stopping isn't an option.

As we step outside, the warm summer breeze blows across my face, tousling my black hair and causing it to tickle against my ears. The Meaning Ceremony always happens in the summer, while the Naming Ceremony happens in the winter.

The large pathway that leads towards the Arena from the commoners housing is full. Just about every family is eager to see who will end up where. Of course, there is always the underlying anticipation about what happens if a commoner is chosen to be a prince or princess. But, alas, the chances of that happening are quite rare.

We walk in silence, Emilio and I, perhaps out of fear of expressing how we really feel. Once we start, we may not be able to stop. So, instead of talking, we just listen to the conversations around us.

To our right there is a mom and a daughter, eagerly whispering about the new possibilities for the girl. To our left there is a large family; a mother, a father, a baby boy, two little girls, and a boy who seems to be about my age. His jeans are ripped and his shirt dirty, but his hair is combed neatly. Being commoners and having a large family is something that nobody wants. But they seem close, as if they would do anything for each other. That seems like something worth struggling for.

"There it is." Emilio's voice breaks the thick silence that drifts between us. My eyes break away from the large family and drift towards the horizon where the Arena begins to tower over the crowd. "Is it bad that I don't want to go in there?"

I glance over to Emilio, my hand gently resting on his arm at his words. "Of course not. Our lives are about to change. For better or for worse. You will be fine and so will I," I say to him, trying to offer comfort to both him and myself.

A smile forms on his lips and he gives me a nod as the group slowly conforms into a line. It seems like an eternity before we make it to the arched doors, but when we get there I find myself wishing that we had more time. Nothing can prepare me for what is coming. As we step inside, the instant boom of conversation invades us and our thoughts. The platform stands in the front of the room and the bleachers arch out in front of it. The middle section of bleachers is reserved for the ones who are finding out their meanings and the rest is for family and friends.

"Look-There's your aunt, uncle, and Portia," Emilio says as he points to the left section of bleachers. My eyes follow his finger and I find a smile forming as I see my family waving at me. Felix is there with them, sitting next to my Aunt Penelope. I wave back, but just as quickly as I do, I feel myself being pushed deeper into the crowd and separated from Emilio.

Instead of fighting against the crowd, I just go with the flow of it, my heart pounding against my chest. The thought of going through this without Emilio is rather daunting, but there is nothing I can do now. Finally, the crowd disperses some and I manage to climb up the middle section of the bleachers. I recognize a couple of the others that are already sitting around me, but none of them are people who I consider to be my friends. The boy next to me is the same one who has the large family that Emilio and I walked close to on the way here.

My eyes search the seats below me, hoping to find Emilio, but his curly black hair is nowhere in sight. Before I can start looking at the seats behind me, the sound of an amplified voice echoes through the arena.

"Welcome everyone, to this year's Meaning Ceremony!"

I look to the platform and there I see the king of Cliden, King Ryan, standing in front of the microphone. He is older, with clean cut dirty blonde hair and charming blue eyes. Behind him sits Queen Sarai, who, in my opinion, is absolutely beautiful. She is dark skinned and has dark features, but her eyes are so gentle and as she smiles, they crinkle. Next to Queen Sarai is an old man. He is wearing royal blue robes and looks fragile. Sir Ambrose...The Counsel. He is the one who announces our names and meanings at the ceremonies.

"Today our lovely and talented group of young adults will be diving into their official adulthood as they are given their meanings and jobs," King Ryan's voice booms and a collective silence in the crowd develops, "And as I am sure that they are most excited to discover where their life will take them, I will go on ahead and allow Sir Ambrose to come forth."

A light sound of clapping fills the airy Arena as the elder stands, leaning against a carved wooden cane that has odd symbols etched in it. King Ryan takes a seat next to the queen and Sir Ambrose leans heavily against his cane as he stands behind the microphone.

"Welcome, all who have decided to join us," he says, his voice so brittle that it sounds as if he is about to shatter. "For the past fifty years, it has been my job to deliver onto you the names and meanings of these young jewels that have been gifted to the kingdom of Cliden. And I will not disappoint this year. So, let me not hesitate to begin after I give these young adults a piece of advice...You will never always be motivated, so you must learn to be disciplined in everything you do."

A louder sound of clapping erupts in the crowds as people cheer. This is it.

"Aaron Winston!"

The first name causes silence to consume everyone. At first, nobody moves, but then a boy stands from one of the seats below me and makes his way to the platform. It is obvious that he is from the upper class because he is wearing a navy-blue suit. His long brown hair is tied up into a bun. Sir Ambrose offers him a smile before he lowers his glasses and peers at the parchment book in front of him.

"Aaron...Such a glorious name. The meaning of your name is simply, yet marvelously, 'lofty and exalted.' Your job will be none other than a prince."

A gasp, followed by a couple of whoops and hollers, sound on one side of the Arena. Of course, he is a prince. Most upper-class people are. A smile forms on his lips as he turns, the light catching his golden-brown eyes, and makes his way back to his seat. Once the excitement dies down, Sir Ambrose continues.

"Alun Gonzales!"

My head pops back up at that name. Alun...He is Emilio's first cousin. The short boy stands up from the front row and walks up to the platform awkwardly.

"Alun, your name quite simply means 'a river.' You will begin a job as a fisherman."

As Alun makes his way back to his seat, Sir Ambrose continues calling out names. A girl named Ashley, who is from the upper class, is given the job of a woodworker. She nearly starts to cry. Another girl named Charis, who is a commoner like me, is given the job of a teacher. She has always been sweet and kind, so I suppose it fits. A boy, whose name is Jevon, gets called up. He is a sacrifice. The sounds of his parents crying is the only sound that can be heard as he visibly pales and goes back to his chair. It then clicks that Emilio's name was skipped...how strange.

"Lilura Ethelfled!"

Another name being called out prevents me from dwelling on Emilio. It doesn't take long for a red-haired girl to stand and saunter to the platform. She is dressed in a red, skintight dress that matches her hair and tall black heels. Her makeup is on thick and she is wearing bulky jewelry. It's obvious that she is from the upper class.

"Lilura, your name meaning isn't much different from your aura. It means 'enchantment.' With that being said, your job shall be a princess."

A smirk appears on her lips as she offers Sir Ambrose a curtsey before she turns and begins to walk off, shooting Aaron a wink. Wouldn't they be the perfect pair?

I sit back in my chair as the names continue being called out. The farther down the alphabet Sir Ambrose goes, the harder my heart beats against my chest.

"Rohanna Perez!"

No. It can't be my turn already. I let out a shaky breath before I pull myself up and begin making my way down the steps. My hands stay at my sides, as I can't bring them to do anything else. Before I know it, I'm on the platform, next to the Counsel.

"Rohanna, darling. Your name is one that I remember giving. A name that I knew would be quite a surprise to some. The meaning of your name is 'one who travels a higher path.' You will be a princess."

Whispers erupt from the crowd as my eyes stare into his. I can see an amused smile fighting to appear on his face as he motions for me to be seated again. Nobody claps. They only whisper. A commoner being a royal? The chances are one in a thousand.

I slowly make my way back to my chair and my mind goes numb. I know that more names are being called and I can sense the people around me staring, but all I can do is look down at my hands.

I'm a princess.