The Midnight Sun

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Ciaran

“My dark prince, remember this ceremony is of absolute importance,” Arian repeated for the hundredth time. His black eyes, sickly wrinkled face, and white hair made for a haunting sight.

Ciaran groaned in annoyance as his mother placed a phoenix emblem on his black linen collared shirt. She straightened his matching pants. He felt the whole attire was wrong. His long, dirty-blond hair was tied into a bun with a gold ribbon. His eyelashes had been highlighted with makeup to showcase his silver eyes. The dark attire did not compliment his fair skin. He would have worn gold and silver if he could.

“We would prefer a match with one of our own. A match with a person from the Cloud Nation would open political opportunities. The Mountain Nation has a strong military and could be beneficial. The person you match with will one day run this nation alongside you,” his mother explained, fiddling with her brown hair.

She had the same silver eyes and pale skin. They both were tall. Ciaran bit down a sarcastic response.

“Your father’s staff informed me he is too sick to come with us. Do you expect your match to be suitable?” his mother asked.

Ciaran’s eyes drifted from his anxious mother. They stood on deck, the earth below them. Some said it was a beautiful sight. Ciaran was not moved. The dull green and rocky land had to feel like a prison. Space was limitless. There were stars that had never been visited, moons that had not been mined, and stars that never dimmed. He could feel the crowd gathering behind them.

The prince could not tell his mother that he often wished he did not have to run this nation. He would fulfill his obligations, even if only to prevent the crown from going to one of his mother’s venomous advisors.

“I cannot choose my match. The technology your ancestors created does that for me,” Ciaran answered, unhappy to be attending the ceremony at all. His boots scraped the steel surface as he led his mother to their private vessel.

The interior of their ship was decorated with lavish gold. Portraits of his ancestors lined the walls. The windows were far too large. It was impossible to block out the crowd of peering citizens gathered on the platform. He pressed the button on his couch, converting it into a bed. He sat on the soft red mattress, drawing a yellow blanket over him.

“Where is Kwan?” Ciaran asked. The prince never traveled without his bodyguard.

“Only two guests allowed,” Arian answered with a smile. Arian’s black eyes and gray hair highlighted his gaunt face. His skin sagged. He yelled in every space as if he was afraid no one would hear him.

“Then why are you here?” Ciaran asked. He would have chosen Kwan or his friend Sterling over Arian.

His mother shushed him.

People carried signs and posters wishing him luck. Ciaran gave the required polite smile and forced wave. A girl screamed, shaking a magazine cover with his face on it. The press had hounded him all year, wanting to know what he was looking for in his perfect match.

“Your match will be amazing,” Sterling yelled from the front of the crowd. He winked, laughing. His curly brown hair was messy. He wore a shirt with Ciaran’s face. Sterling grinned as Ciaran grimaced at the sight.

“Our family crafted the most advanced artificial intelligence ever known. It monitors our health and has allowed us to live for hundreds of years. It knows every decision you have ever made. I track your every movement with it. That computer has simulated your life millions of times. It has determined who you align with,” his mother repeated, drinking wine from a silver goblet. She closed the window, blocking out the view of the crowd.

Her eyes shifted to Ciaran. Her expression was serious. Ciaran shrugged, unsure what to say to his mother.

“Your father had all the titles in the world. The technology my family owns, matched with his power, created a new world,” Ciaran’s mother rattled.

Ciaran was uninterested in hearing this story again.

Thankfully, the rocket started. The vast circular titanium city floating around the Earth was lost in thick smoke The darkness of space surrendered to the flames of the rockets. The headache-inducing brightness of daylight upset Ciaran. They shot through the Earth’s atmosphere. Why people wished to live here was beyond Ciaran’s understanding. He covered his eyes until the ship landed. He forced himself to enter the stadium.

“I’d rather be matched with someone from the oceans than someone who wears that,” Ciaran commented. He glared at a man with bright purple hair and a puffy black jacket. The hair was nice, but the jacket was unacceptable.

His mother snickered. She would faint if he was matched with someone from the ocean.

Everyone had already arrived. The cloud people wore pink and white. They sat in the east section of the stadium, laughing and talking to one another. The stoic mountain people were in the west of the stadium. A stubborn lover would be a pleasant match. His people, the people of space, sat in the north, all wearing black.

“Do not make such jokes. Your match will be with a productive nation that wishes to expand its land and resources. The people of the ocean are selfish and lazy. They’ve refused to let us mine their water for the last five hundred years. It is wasted, untouched in water that is not even drinkable,” Arian ranted.

Their speeches were redundant. All day, every day, Ciaran sat in meetings. His parents and their most trusted advisor complained and plotted to get their hands on the resources hidden in the ocean.

Boos erupted from the ocean people when his family’s presence was noticed. They jeered and protested, demanding the end of their efforts to mine their seas.

“We have a private booth,” Arian assured, grabbing Ciaran.

Arian marched him to the top of the stadium. His mother blew a sarcastic kiss to her enemies.

“Such vile people. Let’s hope this moves quickly. I have plans tonight. That reminds me, we have diplomatic visitors arriving tomorrow. We’ve redecorated a guest room in your wing of the palace for your match. I cannot imagine being in such proximity to your father. Once our visitors leave, we will move their room,” his mother promised, to Ciaran’s relief. She handed him a bracelet. It was unfashionable.

Ciaran wore it, knowing it would alert him when it was time to be matched.

If his union was like his parents’, he would meet his match and see them at political meetings. Part of Ciaran appreciated the efficiency of his parent’s marriage. A dark and troubled part of him would spend the night hours thinking of a whirlwind romance. Disgusting and improper thoughts. Marriage was about allegiance and the status of one’s family. Nothing more.

“Welcome to all my eighteen-year-olds and their guests!” a woman yelled.

The stage in the center of the arena opened. A stocky woman with ebony skin and curly black hair strode out, waving at the crowd. She basked in their cheers. “I am Ila. It has been my honor to host this ceremony for over a hundred years. Today, a new life for each and every one of you begins. Some will spend tonight in new homes, and some will take home the person of their dreams. Everything you’ve ever wanted will be given to you,” Ila said, pumping her fists in the air.

The crowd applauded, their celebratory yells filling the stadium.

“Now, I know what you’re feeling! I do. You’re a little excited and very nervous. You might even be scared. You may be thinking, what if SoulMatch makes a mistake? That is a natural worry. What started as a private company became part of every government. It is embraced by all people in every wonderful culture,” Ila boasted, leading the crowd in a wave. She ran from one side of the stage to the other.

The enthusiasm and stage presence of the woman was magnetic. Ciaran smiled, watching the woman calm the audience. Her flowing green dress covered in flowers moved with her every step. Pink cherry blossoms decorated her hair. Behind her, images of last year’s ceremony played. Videos depicted people grabbing each other and families crying.

“It is natural to be worried. Let the fear fly away. Is everyone ready to let that scary feeling go? SoulMatch does not make mistakes. We use millions of data points and run them through every possible scenario. We have yielded perfect results for hundreds of years. I know I’m ready to see your faces as you meet the love of your life. It is why I come back every year. That and the paycheck,” Ila joked.

She had the audience in the palm of her hand. They laughed and cheered as she winked at the crowd, pretending to count her money. “So, who is ready to relax and party, and who is ready to meet your perfect person?” Ila yelled to rapturous applause.

The ceremony began. Ila read two names, their pictures illuminating the screen behind her. Ciaran opened his phone and browsed the news. Watching teenagers sob as they fell into the arms of their soulmate was not his idea of a dream evening. Often, his mother would laugh and point when two strangers ran into one another’s arms, weeping.

“I’ve ordered steak and caviar. This ceremony is supposed to last for two hours, but it never does. Be sensitive around Arian. He has been plotting lately,” his mother complained.

Ciaran chuckled as a match shook hands, their facial expressions surprised. Ciaran suspected they were not a love match. He planned to bow to his match as a sign of respect and then walk away. The ceremony was coming to a close. Only a handful of people were left.

The blue bracelet vibrated and buzzed on his wrist. A shot of anxiety coursed through him. It was uncharacteristic for him to feel anything like this. His face flushed, and his hands shook.

“Don’t be late. We have a reputation to uphold. You’ll be matched with an appropriate fit and see them a handful of times. Get it over with,” his mother said, gesturing for him to leave.

Ciaran passed by the guards. The crowd tensed, spotting his movements. Cameras tracked his every step.

No one spoke as a cluster of teens circled one another by the entrance to the stage. The group was an unimpressive bunch. No one is interesting. There were no other teens from powerful families. A few attractive people were present. Maybe he’d get lucky and be with one of them. Not the Ocean Nation boy who looked as if he was about to faint. A girl from the Mountain Nation couldn’t stop staring at him. It looked like he would be matched with another person from space, judging by the odds.

“I have so many ideas for how to improve our military,” a girl from his nation muttered in his ear. She had blonde hair and wore a black military uniform.

Ciaran sighed. The perfect match. His parents would be thrilled. “What is your name?” Ciaran asked, forcing himself to nod to his future wife.

“Isadora,” the woman answered with a cunning grin.

There was no need to make small talk. They would be matched. He would greenlight whatever ideas she had for their military. They’d see one another a couple of times throughout their lives. It was as his mother had said.

“Christian and Isadora!” Ila screamed.

Ciaran cursed. Both their eyes widened in surprise. She bowed and left, walking onto the stage. The Space Nation and Cloud Nation applauded as Isadora greeted a man from the Cloud Nation. He wore military attire. A political match.

“Cove,” Ila stuttered.

Maybe the Ocean Nation boy would be single. Sometimes, that surprised Ila. The boy from the Ocean Nation was startled. Cove paled, terrified. Ciaran allowed himself one slight moment to appreciate Cove’s tan.

“C-Cove and Ciaran!” Ila yelled, gesturing for the two of them to join her.

The crowd went silent. Cove’s honey eyes blinked as if he were trying to wake himself. This was a nightmare. Ciaran went numb. Sweat dripped from his forehead. He knew he was fidgeting with his hands. Yet, he could feel nothing.

“Yes, this is terrible. Come on,” Ciaran ordered the stranger that was meant to be his match.

Cove was frozen, unmoving. The two stood on the stage, staring at one another.

There was no doubt in his mind that his mother was screaming in her booth. Cove was handsome. His black hair had a messy curl to it. The silk shirt he had chosen highlighted his toned chest and arms. His beauty was distracting. Yet, everything about Cove screamed Ocean Nation. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of political ambition in him. His eyes were earnest. His cheeks were red and flushed.

A flurry of flashes as cameras took their photos jolted Ciaran. This would be all over the news. He could not bow. That would suggest support for Cove’s nation’s politics. Ciaran decided he needed to act. The prince turned to the crowd and grinned. He shrugged then laughed. Ciaran patted Cove on the back and ushered him off stage.

“The prince is right. What a twist! Love is nothing if not unpredictable,” Ila announced, applauding.

Immediately after they were off the stage, Ciaran dropped the pretense. He glared at Cove. This man could not be his match.

“Mistakes happen. This was a glitch,” Cove suggested, not meeting Ciaran’s eye. There was a unique, charming lilt to his voice that only those from the Ocean Nation had. Not that every nation didn’t have accents.

Ciaran was affronted. He should be the one telling Cove this was a mistake.

“I am a prince. You should not be complaining…but yes. You are right. This cannot stand,” Ciaran agreed, his voice quick as his nerves peaked.

Cove stared at him.

“Can you repeat that?” Cove asked, biting his lip.

Ciaran grew flustered.

Speech lessons, the best education, and years of etiquette training had ensured he knew how to communicate with everyone. All his teachers complained when he was a child that he spoke too quickly. They said it was impossible to understand him.

“Let’s tell them they made a mistake,” Ciaran muttered, slowing his voice and calming himself.

Cove nodded, relieved. They sat on the cold concrete, waiting for the event to end.

“What a ceremony. Such shocks and twists. We will all be talking about Prince Ciaran and Cove. Enjoy starting your new lives!” Ila cheered, running off the stage.

Ciaran was on his feet before Ila was down the stairs. There was a commotion as Ciaran’s mother and two people who looked to be Cove’s parents hurried backstage. Cove ran into his mother’s arms.

“This is completely unacceptable. We will not allow for such a union,” Ciaron’s mother said, glaring at Cove and his family.

“This has to be a mistake,” Cove chimed in.

“Cove, there are no mistakes with our technology. Mira and Kai, talk to your son. Astrid, you insist everyone respects your technology. You would be viewed as a hypocrite for exempting your family from that policy,” Ila responded. Her voice was warm, but her eyes narrowed. Ila’s lips thinned as she dared Ciaran’s mother to challenge her.

There was a crowd gathering. Phones pointed at them. Ciaran knew he was being recorded. Ila smiled and posed for the crowd. She led them down a hall into an abandoned office with stained white walls and dirty hardwood floors.

“I don’t want to go to space,” Cove cried.

Cove’s father soothed him.

“Maybe Ciaran longs for the water. You’ll figure this out,” Kai assured them.

“I have no desire to be eaten by sharks. I am not moving. I cannot,” Ciaran laughed, shrugging. Ciaran was the prince and heir to the throne.

Cove and his parents huddled into conversation. Ciaran heard them mutter something about patience and curiosity. It was all very naïve.

“Your reaction surprises me. Astrid, your family seeks to mine in the ocean. The people of the ocean do not have the same hierarchies as you do. They are community focused. Convince Cove his people should reconsider,” Ila whispered.

Ciaran’s mother went quiet, her silver eyes reflective.

Ciaran groaned. If his life had to be a political chore, then he wished to meet those sharks he planned on avoiding. At least they were upfront about wanting to eat you. Better than politicians. Ciaran leaned against the wall, helpless. He did not even care that his clothes would be stained.

“Okay, my parents say to trust the matching process…I don’t want to move, though,” Cove asserted, fidgeting.

“There is a longstanding process for these disputes. It is normal for both members of a match to want to live at home. Spend six months in one another’s homes and decide in a year,” Ila recited the policy, bored.

Cove’s parents looked at him for his approval. They would not get it. There was no way he would spend six months near sharks and undrinkable water in the middle of nowhere.

“I apologize for my words, such a surprise. Terribly inappropriate,” Ciaran’s mother said, bowing her head to Cove and his family. “That sounds delightful. This match exists for a reason. We must discover what that reason is.”

The naivety of Cove and his parents made Ciaran want to scream at them to wake up. Cove relaxed, and their family discussed family holidays and visits. Ciaran’s mother’s fake, sugary, sweet smile and nods were all lies. His necklace vibrated. His phone alerted him to his high levels of stress.

“Well, I didn’t pack anything because I am the heir to the throne. It never occurred to me that my mother would ship me off to an island. You’ll have to come to space first,” Ciaran spat, then storming out, enraged.

Part 2