Papa was asleep by the time I got home, which was just as well because I didn't feel like sharing my night yet. Part of me wanted to hold it secretly forever. I gently tucked the dress at the bottom of my wardrobe, hoping the weight of my other clothes wouldn't damage it. With a smile still on my face, I changed and got into bed, falling asleep relatively quickly. Jyn made good on his promise the next morning when guards came knocking on my door, rousing me from sleep to remind me of my change in bathing time.

Sleepily, I sat up and stretched. It was only early morning and still the heat was almost unbearable. As the day went on, it would only get hotter. Even knowing that, I still got up and made my way to the forge to help Papa. On the way, I grabbed a handful of sour berries from a wooden bowl on the table. They weren't particularly good, but it was better than nothing.

I licked the juice from my hand as I stepped outside. It seemed like Papa hadn't been awake for very long either, because he was just putting on his apron. Seeing me approach, he smiled. "Right on time, little blossom."

I chuckled at the childhood nickname and starting putting on my own apron. "I'm not that little anymore, Papa."

"You'll always be my little blossom."

After that, conversation turned nonexistent as we focused on our work. Due to the heat being so intense, we both agreed to call it quits early for the day. Whether or not it was truly part of my blood like my mother used to tell me, but none of the tribe liked the heat, and working by a fire all day wasn't ideal. Work or no, Papa and I both agreed we wouldn't work ourselves to death over a bunch of men and woman in suits. As Papa left for his own designated bathing time, I sat at the kitchen table with the rest of the bowl of berries, trying to cool down.

Looking around our small hut, I tried to imagine how people outside the Southern Sands lived. I tried to imagine houses made from stone that reached to the sky, silver platters and crystal goblets, large and amazing works of art hanging from the wall, sparkling lights hanging from the ceiling, everything my mother told me about in her stories. A light breeze ran through the cloth covering the windows, making them sway and ruffling my curly hair. I blew a piece out of my eye and looked down, trying to focus on something other than the homes of others that I would never get to see. My gaze fell on the bucket of water by the empty fireplace. It was still about half full, just enough for us to make it to our next water ration in two days. Daring a look around, I double checked the windows and doors for anyone lurking. Positive I wasn't being spied on, I raised my hand to the bucket and willed the water to move. It took a few seconds, no doubt because I lacked practice, but soon enough, the water bent to my will floated upward in an orb, hovering unsteadily over the bucket. I was elated by my success, but the amount of effort it took to just hang the water there was enormous. I let the water slide back down, noticing that I was shaking from the effort.

After calming my racing heart and wiping the sweat from my brow, I tried again. Over and over, I did nothing but raise the water from the bucket, let it hover, and then set it back down, until I no longer shook at the effort it took to do so. I was surprised that it didn't take that long to master that technique. Despite my lack of discipline, it still seemed pretty basic.

Once I got the hang of lifting the water, I began to experiment with moving it through the air. This was a little harder, and at first, my hand began to shake, causing me to worry if I might lose control of the water and have it spill everywhere. Gritting my teeth, I tightened my resolve and made more of an effort, and as a reward, the water stopped trembling. Smiling, I began to weave the water around the room, ducking it under the table, arcing it over my head, swirling in around the bucket without touching. The feel of the magic elated me, and I found myself wondering why I had never started practicing before. I knew I wasn't allowed, but I could do it in secret, like I was now.

I was in the process of twirling the water around my arm like a snake charmer might hold a snake when Papa walked back into the hut. I was so consumed by the magic, that I didn't hear him until he shouted my name.

"Nakdia!"

I rarely heard him use my full name, and I released my hold on the magic in shock. Luckily, I had the sense to resume my grip on the water before all of it crashed to the ground. Still, more than half of what remained in the bucket fell, staining the wooden floorboards dark. What remained of the precious water, I hastily pushed back into the bucket.

Once the water was safe, I dared a look up at Papa. Never in my life had I seen him so furious. Fresh from his bath, his hair was already starting to dry and curl in the heat, and he carried a crisp and clean scent. He had a towel hanging from his neck, and wore fresh clothes, reminding that he had once been a very handsome man in his youth. The look in his dark eyes was stormy, and I found myself flinching backwards even though he had said nothing but my name. We just stared at each other for moments on end. I felt like holding my breath.

"Kida," he finally said, softer this time, but with no less anger. "I've told you countless times that you can't practice your magic. It's too dangerous, especially with the king arriving in a few weeks."

"I know," I said, hating how weak my voice sounded. I couldn't help but cringe underneath his gaze. "But I can't help it. The magic calls to me. The water calls to me."

"Dammit Nakdia," he snapped, reverting back to my full name. "It doesn't matter how much you want it. You have to hide that part of yourself, no matter the cost."

Suddenly, inexplicably, I became angry. At Papa, at the King, at the world, at everyone who was the reason I couldn't use my magic. "You don't understand," I snapped. "I can't just ignore it. It's a part of me. It's a part of who I am. I could no easier ignore my arm than I could my magic."

"You must!" Papa strode towards me and gripped the top of my arms, not painfully, but enough to startle me. "They took your mother. I will not let them take you too!"

"Well maybe," I growled, "they wouldn't be able to get to me if I could use my magic properly. I could defend myself. I could get the whole tribe liberated."

Papa's face contorted. "I will not allow it," he growled. "Some parlor tricks are not going to keep them from taking you and locking you up like a monster."

His words stung me more than he knew. The fight flew out of me and I had to struggle not to cry. "Is that what you think of me? Do you think I'm a monster?" I could barely hear my own voice.

Suddenly, Papa's grip loosened on my arms and he wrapped me in his. I couldn't help but cling to him and hug him back. "Of course not, little blossom," he soothed, his voice much calmer now like all the fight left him as it had me. "You are the light of my life, but there's a reason our people were enslaved to extinction. The world sees us as monsters. That's what they would see if they found you out." When I didn't speak, he continued. "You're right, I don't understand the magic and how it calls to you, but I do understand what will happen if we're caught, and I can't lose you too."

Sniffling back my tears, I mumbled into his clean shirt. "Is that why Mama was taken?"

"I don't know, little blossom. I don't know."

"I'm sorry," I finally said, pulling away from the hug. "I know it's dangerous. I won't do it again."

Papa suddenly grew fierce again, but not in an angry way, in a protective way. "Promise me," he growled, cupping my face in his hands. "Promise me you won't do it again."

I nodded as much as his hands around my face would allow. "I promise."

That seemed to settle him, and he leaned in to place a kiss on my brow. "I love you Kida. I only want to keep you safe."

"I love you too Papa," I said. As he walked away to his bed, I began to wonder how I would keep my promise and the allure to use my magic at bay. Luckily, I didn't have time to think, because my bathing time was fast approaching. I gathered clean clothes and my towel and headed outside.

Walking to the bathhouse, I was distracted in my own thoughts. I wanted to keep my promise, but I also wanted to learn how to use my magic properly. If I did, maybe one day I could help my people and get them out of the desert. I didn't even realize I had reached the bathhouse until I nearly walked into the guard standing in front of the door. He grunted, but I didn't offer him an apology, only a glare. He checked my name on some sort of list and waved me in.

The bathhouse was split into two parts, one for men and one for woman. Inside, there were several tiny pools of water sitting in stone basins. Torches lined the walls, giving off barely enough light to see by. Steam curled from a few of the pools were the water was heated to a higher temperature. I always opted for one of the cooler pools. Today, only two other pools were occupied. The one closest to the door had elderly woman with greying hair. She simply sat in the water up to her neck, unmoving. Further along, in another pool that was designed to be much shallower, was a mother and her two children, a shrieking girl and a giggling boy. Children were the only exceptions to the sex splitting in the bathhouse.

I made my way to the back, to the farthest pool there was. Sitting on the ledge was a brush and a bar of unscented soap. I stared at them glumly, wishing I had the scented soap my mother used to tell me that court ladies used, before stripping off my clothes and stepping into the water. After the day I had, the water was soothing on my skin. Submerged in it to my neck, I felt like I was one with the water. I could feel every tug and pull as the water stirred. Taking a deep breath, I plunged in entirely, letting to flow over my head as I sat on the bottom of the pool. Plenty of people in my tribe were scared of water, and could barely tolerate putting their heads beneath the surface. I loved it. I felt like the water was caressing my entire body. I felt like the water was the one true friend I never had. If it weren't for my need of air, I would have remained at the bottom of the pool forever.

When I couldn't hold my breath any longer, I surfaced and pushed my wet hair away from my face. Aware of my limited time, I grabbed the bar of soap and set to work on washing my hair and body, humming to myself as I did so. A shrill shriek started me, and I dropped my soap in the water. I was just about to retrieve it, when I learned the sound of the commotion. The children, which the mother had managed to calm down since I arrived, were playing again. With the mother desperately trying to quiet them, they were giggling and shouting and splashing each other with water. The sight brought a smile to my face until the female guard stationed in the bathhouse stomped over.

I tensed. It was never a good thing when a guard was angry. The mother cringed before her, still trying to quiet her children. "What is the meaning of this?" the guard demanded. Since she was inside and out of the elements, she wore no helmet, allowing me to see her pale features and angry scowl.

The mother, now quivering in fear, was trying to stammer out a hasty reply. "I-I'm sorry. Th-they just want t-to play. They're just ch-children."

"That's no excuse," the guard snapped. "You know the rules. No splashing!"

"I'm trying," the mother cried, once again reaching out to her children to calm them. She looked to be on the verge of tears. Still, the children evaded her, splashing one another. One splash went too wide and hit the guard on her armor. This infuriated her. With a scream of her own, she thrust out her hand and a spurt of fire came raging out, nearly scorching the children in the tub. Their screams of joy turned into one of terror, mingled with the mother's cries.

In my own pool, I clenched my fist, aching to help. The water around me trembled and rippled in response to my emotions, and I had to remember to relax, or we'd have bigger problems to deal with. Still, I yearend to help. The children were now cowering against their sobbing mother while the guard yelled at them, her fist still encased in flame. Many of the Imperial Army were fire users, as it was the element of the royal family. Occasionally, we would see an air or earth user among them, but fire users seemed to flourish the best in the Southern Sands, which was why they were posted here. They were feared greatly, mainly because of their lack of control and their tempers. Looking now, I could see the red sash tied on her upper arm, marking her as a fire user.

Eventually, the guard had shouted herself hoarse and allowed the mother and children to scurry away. Next, she came to and turned her anger on me, shouting that my time was up and to get out. I hesitated, wanting to tell her that I still had time, but the look on her face warned me not to argue. Packing my own things, I left, passing the elderly woman in the first pool. During the entire altercation, she didn't seem to have moved a muscle, making me wonder if she was even still alive.

I had seen that type of behavior before, a fire user threatening a member of the tribe. The country was so afraid of water users returning that they read every little splash of water as a sign of magical ability. There were many overreactions like the one I had just witnessed, though a lot of them had been far less pleasant. I shuddered, clutching my towel to my chest. Seeing what had just happened, I vowed to myself to never sit by idly again. I had the power to make a difference, to fight back. Hating myself for breaking my promise to Papa, I vowed I would keep practicing my magic until I could make that difference.