by Dylan Steel
Her adrenaline was pumping as her knuckles connected with Carnabel’s jaw. Sage was pretty sure she was winning this fight. Her opponent looked at her, eyes wide with a fiery hatred. Sage smirked until she noticed too late Carnabel’s fist flying toward her temple.
And then the world went black.
3. TWO PARTS
“This is quite rare.” Headmaster Alexander paced his office.
Carnabel and Sage sat in silence. Patches of their faces were slathered in thick ointment.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” The headmaster seemed to be talking to himself more than to them.
“Do you feel any remorse? Do you realize the shame you bring upon yourselves and Eprah with these types of actions?”
Sage nodded begrudgingly and winced at the throbbing in her head. She had no choice but to agree. Play the game.
“You know what I think the problem is? You don’t know enough about Eprah. If you did, I certainly couldn’t imagine this behavior would continue.” He turned to face them. “You know this demands consequences.”
Sage’s heart sank. She had thought she would be free from Cleansings now that she was in Level Eight. Why had she lost her temper so easily? She looked over at Carnabel. The color had drained from her face as well.
“Now, you were both in the Transitional Class last year, correct?”
Both girls nodded.
“So you know how severe punishments can be.” He looked at them intently.
It wasn’t really a question, but they nodded again anyways.
“Well,” the headmaster paused for a moment, “as this is your first offense as standard students, I think we’ll be a bit more creative.”
A knot formed in Sage’s stomach, but she kept her expression even.
“There will be a two-part consequence,” he continued. “First, we must teach you the only acceptable form of fighting. If you have an argument, you will use words. No exceptions.”
He looked down his nose at them in annoyance. “But since you seem so eager to fight physically, you will forfeit your free periods and use the additional time for further Bokja training. Perhaps it will teach you the respect you are in such desperate need of.”
Excitement welled up inside of Sage. This was a consequence? She’d take this over a Cleansing any day.
“A couple of our student trainers have already agreed to take on the additional responsibility of teaching you during these sessions. It is a great sacrifice on their part—and a truly impressive example for each of you to follow as you work toward full citizenship.” He narrowed his eyes at them. “And to ensure that you take this as seriously as you should, you will both be entered in the Bokja Tournament this year.”
Sage was having trouble suppressing a grin, but she didn’t want the headmaster to know that his choice of punishment felt more like a reward.
“Now, for the second part of your punishment. I suppose you two have good timing.” He leaned closer, and Sage struggled not to jerk away. “As you know, this is the last day to choose your Interest. That choice no longer falls to you as it has become abundantly clear to the administration how you need to spend your time.”
Nausea rushed into the pit in Sage’s stomach. She swallowed hard and met the headmaster’s gaze.
“The Historical Interest Society often lacks enthusiasm and participation from young students. But I think in your case, it will be just the thing to instill a sense of civic pride and duty. It is helpful to know where we come from to know how we must conduct ourselves.” He nodded as if in agreement with his own brilliance in doling out discipline.
“Do you have any questions?”
“No, sir,” both girls mumbled.
“Very well. You’ll report to Ms. Batrille for additional instructions on your new Bokja schedule and Mr. Walsh for the Historical Interest Society.”
He furrowed his brow. “And I would strongly advise against missing any sessions of either. Reverting to more familiar measures of character-building would be quite simple.” He motioned toward the door. “You’re dismissed.”
***
Sage shuffled into the Common Lounge behind Carnabel. Neither of them had said a word after leaving the headmaster’s office. Somehow, being forced to walk back with each other seemed worse than their actual punishment.
Penelope rushed over as soon as Sage sank into a chair in the far corner of the room.
“What happened?” Her eyes darted back and forth between Sage and Carnabel, who had quite deliberately sat several feet away. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” Sage snorted. “I feel terrible. The physician said this stuff would numb the pain, but it really just makes my face feel worse.”
“Everyone was worried. Even the boys have been talking about it—I think they’re a little jealous, actually.”
Sage looked up and saw that Nic and Everett had paused their conversation long enough to stare at her. She hunched her shoulders and stared at the ground.
“Jealous?”
“Sure! No one ever gets in a fight outside of practice. I think boys totally would, but they’re all too scared of what would happen.” Penelope paused. “What did happen?”
Sage frowned. “A couple things. Not all bad.” She shrugged. “The worst of it is that we’re going to have to join the Historical Interest Society. And that’s not terrible, just boring, probably.”
Penelope pursed her lips. “Well… I guess…” She paused thoughtfully. “Yeah, ok. I’ll do it.”
“Do what?”
“I’ll join the Historical Interest Society too.”
“Really?” Sage blinked. “No, you don’t have to do that—it’ll be so boring. Plus, Carnabel’s going to be in it too.”
“Exactly,” Penelope said. “You’ll definitely need a friend if you’re going to survive the year.”
Sage opened her mouth to protest and then stopped. “Thanks,” Sage sighed. She didn’t have the energy to fight a stubborn Penelope. Besides, it was a relief.
“You said there were a couple things. What else?”
“Oh, and we have to give up our free periods for extra Bokja training.”
Penelope nodded. “That’s not so bad. I mean, it’s a bummer to miss out on free periods, and you’ll probably have a lot more work to catch up on, but it gives you an advantage in Bokja for next year’s tournament. And that’s pretty cool.”
“Right! But that’s the best part—we’re actually going to be in the tournament this year.” She grinned but stopped cold when she saw the horrified look on Penelope’s face.
“No, Sage, that’s the worst part.” Penelope’s eyes were wide. “The Bokja tournament factors into the number of Chances you get when you graduate. The lower you place, the fewer Chances you get. This could really drag your average down. You’re at a huge disadvantage this year.”
4. THE INTEREST SOCIETY
The sense of dread hadn’t left Sage since her conversation with Penelope. It seemed like everything she did at the Institution was a fight for her future survival. The carefree days with her parents were gone, but she would have given anything to see them again. Or even just to be free of this place.
Penelope had promised to be at the Historical Interest Society meeting, but they were coming from different classes, with Penelope’s being halfway across the school. Sage hurried into the room first to save her a seat.
To her surprise, the classroom was already quite full. She recognized an overwhelming majority of the students as Level Fifteens and Sixteens, including Rosalind and Kai, but a handful of the others were younger.
She noticed a couple empty seats in the front row—and of course, one of them was next to a sullen Carnabel. Sage made a mental note to thank Penelope later and slipped into the chair beside Everett. He wasn’t her favorite person either, but at least he hadn’t punched her in the last couple days.
She looked up at the sound of footsteps. Penelope rushed through the doorway and stopped almost imm
ediately when she saw the crowd. Mr. Walsh was right behind her and had to sidestep her quickly so that they didn’t collide. Oblivious to the near-miss, she wrinkled her nose at Sage before heading toward the only remaining empty seat.
Sage shrugged an apology before turning back to the front of the classroom. Mr. Walsh was doing a peculiar thing, shuffling around flat white squares on his desk. He gathered the squares into a stack and turned to the class.
“Welcome to the Historical Interest Society. We have a great year planned.” Mr. Walsh always smiled a little too broadly when he was excited about something.
“I know some of you aren’t really here by choice,” he looked first at Carnabel and then at Sage before panning the rest of the room. She squirmed under his gaze. “That’s right,” he continued, “I know some of you are only here because your first three choices filled up too fast, and this was the last Interest Society with space.”
He held up his hand to stop the snickering.
“Nevertheless, I think you’ll find that Eprah’s history is rich and fulfilling. Some of you might even find it interesting by the time the year is over.”
“Now, you may be wondering how exactly this differs from your daily history classes and why you got stuck with the boring Interest Society, but let me tell you this: Our greatest leaders today and always are far more than passive observers of events—they are avid students of history.” He paused for a moment to let that sink in.
“It is my hope that by the end of this year, you have developed a passion for the knowledge of our past and that you will have begun using that knowledge as you prepare for the future.
“As for how it differs, this is far more self-directed and in-depth. Essentially, I will give you a couple weeks to explore different avenues of further study, and you will then choose which path to dive deeper into. You will have a chance to research and study like a real historian, and we will go over your findings together regularly.”
Mr. Walsh fiddled with the squares on his desk again. “And to show you just how different this will be,” he said, picking up the pile and walking toward the students, “here is a sample of the type of relics and research you will be conducting.”
He passed the stack to Carnabel. “Take one and pass the rest along.”
She frowned and grabbed one of the white squares. As the pile made its way to Sage, she realized the squares were large papers covered in writing. She hadn't seen paper since the small warning in her first Cleansing, but it hadn't occurred to her before that it might be unusual.
“I know this isn’t new to those of you who have been part of this Interest before, but for those of you who’ve never seen this before, allow me to explain what you're holding." Mr. Walsh leaned in as if he were sharing a secret with a close friend. “These are ancient document replicas on actual paper.”
A soft murmur fell over the younger students. Sage found their reaction puzzling, but she didn't want to stand out, so she ran her fingers along the paper and wrinkled her brow, feigning confusion. She felt Mr. Walsh staring at her and kept her eyes glued to the paper in her hands.
“Over the course of this year, each of you will be embarking on a journey into the past. You will see what many others will never see, and you will learn what many others will never learn.” He spoke with a glimmer in his eye. “And this is perhaps the best kept secret of all: you will explore this firsthand. We'll be making frequent trips to the Archives for research.”
Sage had no idea what the Archives were, but she could see the excitement on her classmates' faces. Even Carnabel looked happy about the announcement. On the other hand, Everett looked just as confused as she was.
***
“It's huge. And it's a few blocks away in the middle of the city, which means we get to make special excursions,” Penelope gushed.
“But what is it?" Sage repeated her question as they turned down the hallway toward the Common Lounge.
“Well, I've never been there before, but I heard it's basically filled with all sorts of old things. Paper documents are just part of it. I think it has bowls and old jewelry and skeletons and—”
“Skeletons?” Sage shuddered.
“Yeah! It has pretty much everything old.”
“And they're just gonna let us poke around in there? What if we break one of our great-great-great-grandparents or something?”
Sage turned in surprise. Apparently, Everett had been eavesdropping behind them.
“That's what Mr. Walsh made it sound like,” Penelope shrugged. “I doubt we'll get that close to them though. At least, I don't want to. But if you want to get in trouble, ask Sage for tips.” She laughed and jabbed Sage in the arm.
Sage's cheeks grew hot. “Um,” she stammered, “I'd just avoid the skeletons if I were you.” She thought it looked like Everett was trying to suppress a grin, which just made her face turn a deeper shade of red.
“Sage Indarra!” A booming voice echoed through the hall.
All three of them whipped their heads around. Kai Abeldra was standing at the far end of the hall, arms crossed, looking rather unhappy.
5. TRAINING BEGINS
Penelope gave Sage a sideways glance. The Bokja champion looked foreboding. And uncomfortably rigid.
“Yeah?” Sage squeaked.
“Have you already forgotten?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “You have training now.”
Her eyes widened. “That's now? I thought it was—”
“Now,” he said firmly. “I hope you're not planning to waste my time.” Without another word, he turned around and walked away.
Brow furrowed in confusion, Sage looked at Penelope. “I thought it didn’t start for another hour.”
Penelope shook her head. “I don’t know, but I’d hurry if I were you.”
Kai had already disappeared around the corner. Sage hesitated for a moment and then trotted after him. He was walking at a quick enough pace that she didn’t catch up to him until they were nearly to the Bokja training room.
She looked up at him, realizing again just how much he towered above her.
“I thought I was supposed to talk to Ms. Batrille about my schedule,” she said quietly.
“Speak up,” he commanded.
She sighed in frustration. “I thought—”
“Louder.”
“Isn’t Ms. Batrille in charge of my schedule?” She raised her chin higher. “That’s what Headmaster Alexander told me.”
Kai snorted. “The headmaster says a lot of things. Ms. Batrille doesn’t have time to take on additional students. That’s the whole reason Rosalind and I are training you two.” He glanced down at his new pupil and smirked. “And we thought it was best if your time slots didn’t overlap—at least not at first.”
He walked across the mats. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go change and come right back. We don’t have any time to waste.” He disappeared into the boys’ changing room, leaving Sage alone.
She quickly ran into the girls’ room, popped a Bokja practice uniform out of a drawer, and hastily pulled it on.
Her instructor was already back on the mats in uniform when she returned. She swallowed hard at the lump in her throat as she approached him. This might not be as much fun as she’d initially thought.
“I’m assuming you know by now the ramifications of your placement in the tournament,” Kai said.
Sage nodded.
“Has anyone explained to you how it works?”
She shook her head.
“Alright, first of all, you have to learn to speak,” he said gruffly.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Louder. With respect,” he demanded.
“Sorry, sir,” she said.
His face softened a bit. “The respect is not just for me—it’s for both of us.” He cocked his head at her. “Confidence shows you respect yourself as well. Show us both that you value yourself enough to be heard even in difficult situations.”
Sage bit her lip uncertainly, sayi
ng nothing.
“The tournament is a series of sparring matches. Winners face winners, losers face losers, and you’re assigned a score based on how you progress. It’s not really difficult to follow.”
He leaned a bit closer. “What you need to be concerned with is winning the first few matches. Not total wins. Early wins. That will keep you going up against other winners and set you up for a much better average than even some of the Level Nines competing, and that’ll keep this whole thing from dragging your average down too far.”
Sage nodded thoughtfully. “So don’t hold back.”
Kai grinned. “Right.” He paused, and a grim expression fell over his face. “But your first match will be against Carnabel since you’re the only two competing in your level. And she’s getting the same advice. And regardless of whether you win or lose against her, you’ll be going up against other students afterward with at least another whole year of training.”
He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. Sage felt like she was suffocating. Her stomach twisted when she realized Carnabel had already won a fight against her. That was the whole reason she was here in the first place. She thought she might retch.
“Alright, let’s work on defensive counter-moves today.”
Sage wrinkled her brow. “But you were just saying that I’m supposed to win. How can I win if I don’t attack?”
Kai’s eyes twinkled. “We’ll get there. But sometimes a good defense can double as an offense,” he said cryptically.
“But you can’t go on the offensive if you’re down from a hit. Hands up.” He grabbed her wrists and yanked them up higher. “Always at your face. Now throw a jab.”
Sage’s punch landed in the air near where Kai had just been standing. He was now balancing off to one side with one hand blocking her arm and the other frozen in a striking position under her arm.
“See? Defensive is offensive.” He grinned and tapped her with his fist. She grimaced. Her body was more sore than she’d realized.
“You’ll get used to it,” he said when he noticed her wincing. “Bring your hand back. No, to your face.” He pushed her elbow up. “Always to your face. Always.”