by Matthew Ward
Eidr reeled back for a moment. Today would determine the rest of his life. He longed to become a spiorist, but if he didn’t have the Talent, he couldn’t train at the school. He hadn’t even realized he showed signs of the Talent.
The man stepped into the house. He said, “Is it all right if I come in? You have a lovely home here.”
Eidr’s mother nodded, and the man sat at the table.
He said, “Just go about your normal day. Don’t try to do anything unusual. The signs of the Talent will only show at this early stage spontaneously. If you try to make it happen, you’ll only force it away.”
For the entire stretch of daylight, Eidr went about his day. The harder he tried to forget about the Talent, the more he thought about it. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he had forced it away, and they wouldn’t let him become a spiorist because of this. He only worried more.
Midday, a few members of the school liathr team showed up at his house.
Puipr, the most vocal of the group, saw Eidr in the garden and yelled to him. “Hey, why haven’t you shown up to the field yet?”
Eidr gasped. The test had made him forget about the match.
Eidr said, “I’m so sorry. I’ll be right there. Has the match started yet?”
“No. We delayed it to come find you.”
Eidr jogged toward the field, but he stopped when he saw the Tester.
“Is it okay to go?”
The Tester smirked and replied, “Yes. Go about your day and ignore me.”
Eidr continued to the field, and looked back a few times to make sure the man followed. The liathr match started with a rough play by the other team, and Eidr’s focus narrowed. They were being too aggressive. Their team had practiced how to punish this amateurish strategy many times.
He called out the plays to his teammates, and they took the advantage. Eidr relaxed for the first time all day. While the wind rushed by his running body, he lost track of everything except for his pounding legs against the ground and the ball.
The team found their groove and won with ease. Eidr saw the Tester on the side of the field and limped over to him, gasping for air after the hard final sprints. He hoped he had demonstrated signs during the game, because he wasn’t sure he’d find another moment in the day to forget about the test. Was his leadership to victory a sign?
The end of the day crept up at an excruciating pace as the man watched Eidr’s every move. After dinner, he called the family together and told them Eidr did not demonstrate signs of the Talent. He would never be able to move spior.
Two months passed, and Eidr couldn’t let it go. He complained at least once a day to his parents that he had tried too hard during the test. He probably did have the Talent, and he drove it away like the man had said. He had to get into the school. He had to be retested.
But now there was no turning back. In a moment of desperation, a few days after the test, he signed up to train to become a priest of spiorism, an Aithr. His weekly classes had come to an end; his life path was decided. At First Sunset, he would undergo the rite of confirmation for the Ahm River branch of the Third Ring Spiorist Church.
He moved through his house with the calm of someone who had accepted his fate. The dream of being a spiorist was over, and it was best to move on. He entered his room for one of the last times and donned the white robe of confirmation. He collapsed onto his bed and lamented. If only he could take the test one more time. But he couldn’t—he had to push the depressing thoughts from his mind.
All his friends thought him weird for hoping he had the Talent. Why would someone willingly undergo all that extra schooling and take on all that responsibility? Eidr never understood why his friends didn’t want to be able to do magic. Their relationships strained further when his friends found out he would undergo Aithr training. He didn’t have the Talent, but at least as a priest he could still be involved in the world of spior.
Eidr willed himself up and meandered over to the church before his parents. He needed to be there early to help with the preparations. He loved the feeling of lightly brushing his bare feet over the top of the tall grass near the Ahm River. He watched the grass bend then recoil at his simple walking motion. He only looked up when the church came into view.
The sight still inspired a sense of awe in him. The First Age people had crafted a high-ceilinged mianl building. No one knew what they used this type of building for, but Eidr was glad it still existed and had been taken over by the church. The mianl wound around itself in intricate patterns, and strange knots were carved into the border. People originally thought this might be writings from the First Age, but Eidr had learned in his classes that much had been discovered about their writing system. These etchings were mere patterns of some sort.
He longed to have his own parish someday; a place where people could come each week and feel at home. Eidr loved how all his family’s problems went away for that brief period each week when everyone focused on the magnificence that was spior. It was a time for community and giving.
He entered the small building and went into the back room to find his mentor: Aithr Conl. Conl had been the spiorist at this parish for longer than Eidr could remember. He was like a second father. Eidr found Conl preparing the materials that would be used in the ceremony, and he rushed over to help. When he heard the scuttle of feet, Conl looked up. His gentle voice called out, “Welcome Eidr. Are you nervous?”
“A little.”
“Well, just know that this is a mere formality. We take rituals seriously, but you’ve already put in the work to show you are worthy to start down this journey. You will make an excellent Aithr someday.”
“Thank you. I look forward to the journey.”
The two moved the items to the main sanctuary. They set up the three cloths in a row on the front table, each of the three focal point colors represented. They placed all the other items under the table and out of view of the audience.
Eidr felt comfortable confiding in Conl even more than his parents. This was his last chance to talk about his anxieties before taking the vow, so he said, “You live your life by the spior. Did you ever wish you had the Talent to manipulate it?”
Conl said, “Yes. Of course. I spent my childhood much like you and others who become Aithrs in the spiorist church, wishing I had the gift. What you will do is more important, though. Talamir would be chaos without the church. We provide unity and community. Now come on, it’s best not to fret over these things on such a wonderful day.”
The tension quickly slid from Eidr’s shoulders knowing that Conl had gone through a similar experience. Now he knew he could talk about these things anytime.
Eidr and Conl sat at the front of the room, and before long, people filed in and took their seats. It was strange that all these people tended to sit in the exact same seats week after week. One would have thought there was assigned seating by the regularity. This was one of many strange things he began to notice after sitting in the front rather than in the pews.
At First Sundown, the ceremony began. They sang songs together, and Conl gave a moving speech on the selfless devotion to the community Eidr had willingly chosen. When the time came, Eidr took his place at the table.
The tenor of Conl’s voice shifted from gentle to commanding. He moved to the center of the room and held his arms up in a large circle. He called out each focal point with a long space between each, “Soil…Mianl…Herb!” At the name of each, Eidr reached under the cloth and brought the prepared items to the matching cloth color. The dramatics gave Eidr a thrill. This was really happening.
Conl turned toward the front of the room and took a chalice from a hidden location. Eidr panicked for a second. He hadn’t known of this. A special tea had been prepared.
Conl handed the chalice to Eidr and said, “Take. Drink. Do this and you shall see the truth.”
Eidr obeyed. Would it be hallucinatory? He had heard of people going on journeys to find the truth with the aid of hallucinatory herbs.
An intense silence followed while everyone sat in anticipation. There had not been an induction ceremony in decades. No one knew what was about to happen. Conl nodded after a time, satisfied that some change had occurred, but Eidr felt no different.
Conl said, “You drank a truth serum.” Eidr tensed. “You will now make your oath to the Church without the ability to lie. If you are not sincere in the oath, you will not be able to speak it.”
Eidr began to shake with fear. He looked at all the expectant people and hoped they couldn’t tell what he was feeling. What if he couldn’t say it? What if he disappointed all these people and wasted their time? He saw his parents sitting in their usual seats. They didn’t look concerned, which brought some comfort. But this was his only chance for a career with any sort of connection to spior. Would he get another chance if he failed this?
Then he looked back at Conl. Those kind, brown eyes told him he would be fine. Conl said, “Repeat after me: I, Eidr, do solemnly swear.”
“I, Eidr, do solemnly swear.”
“To devote my life to the teaching and cultivation of the spior.”
He repeated.
“I devote my life to the study of the three focal points.”
As the focal points were named, Eidr lifted the pieces from the table for all to see. The oath finished, and Conl congratulated Eidr. He had done it. He sincerely declared his devotion to study to become an Aithr, and everyone knew he meant it. One by one, the members of the parish came up and congratulated him as well.
When all but his parents and Conl remained, Eidr complained.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about the truth serum ahead of time.”
Conl said, “It all worked out in the end. That is an important part of the ceremony. Many of these people are going to lean on you in the future for very serious matters. Seeing you do what you just did will give them confidence in you. They know that you will do your best and will have trained to the best of your abilities to serve them. Some people back out if they know it’s coming.”
“Exactly. I wish I at least had that option.”
“No, you don’t. I knew you were ready, even if you didn’t. Now go home and get some rest. You have a big day ahead of you.”
Eidr walked home with his parents. Once they were out of earshot of other people, they told Eidr that they had something serious to discuss. The walk dragged on much longer than usual, and Eidr wondered if his parents delayed on purpose. They never acted this way. They said what they were thinking. They traipsed across the empty, grassy plains between the main settlement and the Church instead of following the river.
When they got home, Eidr’s father sat him down and served him tea. Eidr wished they’d get on with whatever they wanted to tell him.
His father let out a deep breath, settled into the seat across the stone table, and said, “What we’re about to tell you must be kept a secret.”
A wave of uneasiness rolled across Eidr.
He continued, “We want to have another child.”
Those words were the worst words he could have imagined. Heat flashed across his cheeks while he searched for any response. Eidr was only ten, but he knew the consequences of those words.
He heard the tears in his voice as he pleaded, “No. You can’t. I don’t even care that it’s illegal. It’s against the Church. How could you possibly do that and keep it secret from Aithr Conl? He would obviously know when you showed up with a baby.”
Eidr’s mother said, “Now you know why we had to tell you. You’ve taken your oath and everything. You’ll be living at the parish starting tomorrow for full-time devotion. Once that happens, we’re going to flee to an aspiorist colony on the Outer Ring to do this.”
This was worse than he thought.
Eidr screamed, “What? What’s the point of having a second child if you’re just going to abandon the first one?”
Eidr’s father tried to reason. “No. It’s not like that.”
“It sure sounds like that.”
His mother said, “Honey. You’ve chosen your path. You’re going to be successful. At some point, every parent has to let go and let their child flourish. If you had the Talent, you’d go live on your own as well. You’ve shown us you’re ready for that. We’ll still visit, and you can visit us.”
“No I can’t!” The tears streamed down Eidr’s cheeks. “I can’t go to an aspiorist colony. I’ll be in robes that show I’m training to lead a spiorist congregation. What are you saying with this? Are you telling me you’ve become aspiorists?” The word sounded so dirty in his mouth: aspiorist. They denied reality in order to live their heathen lifestyle.
Eidr’s father said, “No. We would love to stay here, but we do reject the teaching that says we can only have one child. We want another child, and it’s our life. No one should be able to dictate what we can and can’t do.”
Eidr had never argued with his parents like this, and a deep, confusing rage grew. He loved them and hated them at the same time. How could they ruin this day for him? They had picked the worst timing. He wanted to celebrate. Instead, his parents were going to live with people who rejected everything he now stood for.
Eidr yelled, “You can’t be serious. Sometimes people have to make sacrifices to ensure the safety of future generations. That’s why the teaching is in place. For all you know, after the next census, the law will be changed back to a two-child policy. It’s irresponsible and dangerous to have another child right now. What if everyone acted like you?”
The tone in his father’s voice turned harsh.
He said, “Hey! You can’t talk to us like that. We’re still your parents. You aren’t yet an Aithr. You still have to show us some respect.”
Eidr snapped, “No. I don’t. Not when you’re doing something so immoral.”
Eidr’s mother said, “It’s not immoral. You’re still young. Someday you’ll understand.”
Eidr’s cheeks flushed again. Nothing infuriated him more than that argument. You’re too young to understand. You’ll change your mind when you’re older. Had Conl changed his mind with age? No. He wanted to scream. He needed to get away and be alone. He needed time to think through this. But there was no time. They would leave the next morning.
Eidr took off from his parents at a run. He heard them yell for him to stop and come back, but he didn’t care. He had no idea where he was headed, but the run felt good. He settled into a rhythm and let his mind go clear.
When he started paying attention again, he realized he was in a place he had never seen before. That meant he must have travelled a lot farther than he thought. There seemed to be nothing around him except a sole mianl building in the distance. He found the existence of this structure strange and disturbing. Surely no one lived out here alone.
Eidr slowed to a walk and tried to catch his breath. As he approached the strange building, he grew more and more wary of checking it out. Something felt wrong about the place. A strange, powerful energy emanated from the building, yet it beckoned to him at the same time.
Something flicked by at the edge of Eidr’s vision. He turned his head, but nothing was there. It couldn’t be. The experience perfectly described a phantom spior vision, but those only occurred to those who had the Talent. He wanted to turn around, but now he knew he had to go. What if this was the answer to his prayers? He moved toward the building with a slow, deliberate stride, powerless to resist.
He reached the door and pushed it open. The mianl creaked, a strange phenomenon, because mianl never made the noises of a usual house. Although he was sure no one was there, he still padded as quietly as he could across the floor to the next room.
He pushed the door open and stopped. A large hole filled half the floor, centered in the room. He walked over to the edge and looked in. A terrified scream echoed from Eidr’s lungs. He had to get out, but the thing paralyzed him. A destructive force pulled him forward. He would fall in and die and no one would ever find him.
Eidr couldn’t
resist. Screaming was his last act of free will. But then he pulled himself free from the horrible demon and ran all the way home, determined to never go there again. Obtaining the Talent would not be worth getting near that building.
VI
Drystn entered his living quarters. He was the first to be dropped off. The other two continued down the hall to an unspecified location a few doors down. A scrawny guy, probably ten years older than Drystn, lay on his bunk. He wore the standard green robes of an herbalist. Drystn had known almost everyone at the school for many years, and certainly the top graduates, so he had to be significantly older for Drystn to not recognize him.
He had an edgy, youthful look with sharp, spiky hair pointing out of his head at strange angles. Drystn couldn’t help but scoff at the unprofessional look. Didn’t this guy know he was working for the government? His childish haircut reflected poorly on everyone.
The way he lay on his side, flipping through a book, and not giving Drystn any acknowledgment put him on the defensive. He immediately longed to room with someone familiar like Loegr.
The Ruler had mentioned something along the lines of keeping ideas fresh. They would periodically rearrange room assignments so that older people were with less experienced spiorists, and the conversations would produce new ideas. Drystn liked the concept in theory, but he also wished he knew what the ideas were supposed to be about.
“Hi. I’m Drystn.”
“Whatever.” The guy didn’t look up from the book. Drystn shifted his weight. After a brief pause, the guy continued to speak. “You realize we’re stuck here for the rest of our lives. Isn’t that depressing? I’m going to be, like, seventy and having to share a room with some twenty-year-old just because no one can figure this thing out.”
Drystn perked up at the mention of their work. “What thing would that be?” He hoped he could get a bit more information before the next day.
“Oh, yeah. You haven’t seen it. Well, I can’t really describe it. You’ll see soon enough. It’s officially called the bairsgn, but people around here just refer to it as ‘the creeping death.’”