Year 526 A.B.
Under the harsh, white lights of the final exam room's ceiling, Rai stands alone in the middle of a ring similar to the one he trained in at home. On his far left and right are many examiners there for evaluations of the duel. They chat idly until the door opposite of Rai's end of the room swings open.
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Bly walks to the middle of the ring wearing a bandage on his cheek and a wrap on his wrist. The red and purple bruised skin not covered by his bandages make him look as if he's been in a fight already and it’s obvious that every step he takes is painful. The look on his face is one that Rai has not seen before, but the redness in eyes is all too familiar. Rai can't hold eye contact.
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“The match will begin soon and will be decided when we see it fit to end it, when one of you forces a stalemate, or is unable to fight any longer. You may now assume pre-duel stances.”
An examiner announces.
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Rai and Bly point their palms at each others’ chests. Rai opens his mouth to speak but no words are spoken except for the reassurance to himself that he’s doing the right thing. Bly lowers his arm and walks to his end of the ring; Rai does the same.
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“Begin!”
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Bly points his hand at Rai in the shape of a gun. Quick thin rays fire from his fingertip.
Rai charges forward, dodging them with agile movements on the balls of his feet. Bly uses his second hand to fire additional rays that ricochet off of each other. Rai is grazed, but closes the distance between them and assumes a boxer's stance.
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The sound of fists whizzing against the dead-silent air echo throughout the room as they continue what looks like a never ending exchange of blocks, evasions, and strikes that can't seem to connect on either end.
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“I never expected Rai to be a boxer,”
Bly thinks.
“But he's choreographed, obviously a beginner.”
“Jab. Jab. Straight. Hook.”
“Uppercut. Jab. Jab. Straight.”
Between the combinations Bly begins to gain the upperhand, landing more and more grazing blows to Rai's body.
“Hook. Jab. Jab. And next he'll throw a-”
Bly's snake-like fighting style is caught off-guard as Rai raises his leg, and a blindingly fast feint and spin into a roundhouse kick flies towards Bly's neck. He blocks it with a barrier just in time, but the force makes him slide and stumble across the ring. Bly flips back onto his feet, his left hand stabilizing himself against the ground and his right instantly summoning his whip and flinging it at Rai who blocks it overhead with his forearm. Rai stomps and drags his leading foot across the floor, planting himself in a defensive, wider stance.
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“That’s not the same fighting style as before,”
Bly observes on the upper layer of his consciousness. But beneath that, those are the least of his worries. He begins to frown and the whip flies at Rai so fast that it looks like it's coming at Rai in two directions at once. His exposed skin is lacerated. “But why hasn't he put up a barrier yet?”
In his frustration, blades cover Bly’s whip and it hits even harder than before. Rai's clothing and skin underneath is shredded. “And why hasn't he used a single projection?”
Rai grabs the bladed whip, wrapping it around his arm and letting the blades dig into it. Bly uses his free hand to fire bullet-like projectiles towards Rai's leg. He winces in pain but does not falter. Suddenly, Bly is pulled with incredible force by Rai's wrapped arm; before he can let go, he's already within striking distance.
“I know that he can do it, so why?”
Bly inner turmoil shows as he extends his fist to take advantage of the force created by him being pulled, but Rai shifts to the left with the movements of yet another fighting style’s finesse. Bly can feel his weight being used against him, but it's too late. Rai grabs his arm and slams him to the ground with so much power that he is unable to breathe.
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“The match has been decided! You may now visit the infirmary or return to your quarters to await your results.”
An examiner calls out to them.
“Like yesterday, the other option is the dining hall, which will be open until 9 pm.”
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Rai sighs with relief that the match is over and reaches down to help Bly to his feet.
“Now that it’s over, we can go back to-“
A look of hatred completely disarms him. Bly slaps his bloodied hand out of the way and leaves the room on his own accord.
Rai watches his back as the door swings open just as hard as his hand was rejected.
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After a long visit to the infirmary, a bandaged, aching, confused and conflicted Rai makes his way through the hallways back to his room.
It's oddly quiet.
Ominously quiet.
Deathly quiet.
He can still hear the dull echo of his blood dripping against the floor of the empty exam room from the time that he stood there waiting for Bly to return.
Rai sits on the edge of his bed. He tries to pick up a book to read but accidentally uses his injured hand and drops it. As he reaches for it with his other hand, his door knob jiggles and turns.
“The results came in that fast?”
The bittersweet anticipation and uncertainty that he feels is instantly replaced by a sinking feeling in his stomach.
In the doorway, Bly is there accompanied by two larger figures. For some reason, they don’t share the same look that Bly has in his eyes that Rai can only assume is hellish. One of them plants his hand on the ground and the hallway becomes bathed in an odd purple light.
“The barrier’s erected, sir. Contact from the outside is cut off.”
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Rai leaves his book on the ground and stands to face them.
“Hey-”
He's cut off by a projectile literally missing his head by a hair and denting the wall behind him.
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“Bly, what's the meaning of this?”
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Bly scoffs.
“‘The meaning of this?’ I'm here to kill you, Rai.”
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Rai's heart sinks even deeper into his stomach.
He takes a step backwards.
“But aren't we friends?”
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Bly explodes into a short burst of laughter that ends as abruptly as it began.
“‘Friends’? Do you even know who I am?”
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Rai opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off again.
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“Of course you don't. My name is Bly Marigold Jr., heir to the high-noble family that lived in the shadow of yours for years. When your people committed your taboo, we rose from that position…” The hatred in his eyes burns even brighter coloring the once mysterious emerald with devilish envy.
“...Or so we thought. Now, we live, being compared to you, knowing that the only reason that we ever crawled out of that hell is because of your foolish mistake. I wanted to join Xing's squad for the sole purpose of proving myself, proving that I, a Marigold could outshine a Lilac and a ‘gifted’ Ahstralan...”
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Rai tries to speak. Bly's whip flies at a murderous speed towards Rai's heart with the intent to rip it from his chest. He deploys a barrier, deflecting it.
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“Shut hell up, Lilac! I can't believe that I felt sorry for you! Somehow, I thought that we could be different, but no…”
He flashes a smile at Rai full of madness.
“You're just like the rest of the Lilacs: manipulative, pretentious swines. I was the one being played for a fool, you were the one looking down on me and you had everything under control the entire time.”
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His expression returns to the one he wore before.
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“But you'll die here, no one will hear you scream, and no one will care because there will be one less parasite on this earth. Things will never change. Any last words, Lilac?”
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There are too many. He wants to tell him that he’s misunderstanding, but the weight of his soul traps his words in his throat.
“I want to tell you that you’re wrong. That I started to see you as a friend, maybe a kindred spirit. That I didn’t fight as hard as I could because I started to understand your situation. I wanted you to win, but I also have my own goals. I didn’t think this through and I understood nothing. I don’t have the right...”
Rai finally speaks the only feeble words that he can muster.
“I’m sorry, Bly.”
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Bly’s eyes redden with rage. He clenches his teeth so hard that his head begins to pound.
“‘Sorry?’ You think I want to hear that? I can’t believe this. I can’t tell if you’re just pathetic or a bigger leech than I thought.”
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Rai doesn’t respond, only looking at the floor with his fists balled, bringing pain to his earlier injuries. Bly shakes his head.
“My father was right after all. Kill him.”
Bly’s guards look at him reluctantly.
“Master Bly, are you su-”
“Just do it!”
Bly and his devoted yet, hesitant servants step forward, but everyone stops and turns when a loud crunch is heard from the hallway on the edge of the doorway.
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“Damn. My bad, keep going. I love a good telenovela. Next you'll say that you're going to leave the village, right?” The voice says with a mouthful, still crunching.
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Bly turns back to Rai, attempting to ignore them.
“Leave and you won't get hurt. This doesn't concern you.”
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An incredibly large silhouette like that of a standing bear with unkempt hair almost completely blocks the light from the hallway. Bly quickly turns around in shock.
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“Well, I kind of heard my name, so I think it might.” The man says nonchalantly.
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Bly turns to his guards who have assumed positions back at his sides prepared to defend him.
“What are you two doing?” He yells. “Didn't you deploy a barrier?”
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The man crunches on another object from the bag in his hand.
“Oh, that was a barrier? I didn’t even notice.”
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Bly looks furious.
“Who are you to mock me?”
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“Didn't you catch what I said earlier? Your buddies did right away. The name's Xing Ken. I'm the man who’s squad you're trying to join, remember?”
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Bly tries to play off his surprise with a threat.
“Even so, I demand that you leave or else.”
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Xing laughs and stuffs his bag in his pocket.
“Listen…”
He steps closer to Bly, consuming him even deeper in his shadow.
“How about this: you all leave and if you have a problem with it, I'll start a coup d'état right now starting with you. I can't stand little noble brats with their heads in their asses. You lost and now you want to kill him? Well, guess what? There were three spots left on my squad. You would have had plenty of chances to ‘prove yourself’. But I don't need someone like you getting my people killed because of your vendetta. Grow up and try again. You passed the exam, but you're not joining my squad.”
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Bly’s guards quickly step forward, blocking Xing’s path to Bly. In the wake of the silhouetted giant, they stand without fear, their hands shining a bright purple as they build energy for an attack.
“Any matters concerning Master Bly will have to start with us, including your coup.”
Bly tries to speak up and Rai looks on, both of them fading into the background.
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“That’s valiant of you two. If your ‘master’ had half the heart you did, we wouldn’t even be here right now though,” Xing proclaims with confidence, not even bothering to brace himself.
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“Whether he is right or wrong, we owe our lives to him. And so, we will throw them away if it means that he can carry on.”
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The moment they lunge at Xing, Bly calls out to them.
“Enough!”
Their attack immediately halts, their heads turning in surprise just like Rai’s looking at his back.
“Let’s… just go.”
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With his emotions still in a torrent, Bly circles around Xing, waving for his guards to follow him. They all exit the room and Bly glances at Rai one last time.
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Xing turns on the lights, dispelling the dark mood from the room. Contrasting the obviously rippled physique under his uniform is his face with an almost unfitting mix of suave feminine and masucline facial features. He has no blemishes to be found except for a horizontal scar across the bridge of his nose and yet his tanned skin and wild, brown hair make it apparent that he spends a lot of time outside.
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“Well, that was fun. I guess it goes without saying that you passed the exam too, kid. Mr.Einzloss did a good job as always.”
He pulls the bag out of his pocket.
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Rai finally raises his head.
“Wait, you knew I was coming? How?”
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“Mr.Einzloss paged me. The first time I'd heard from him in years, and the first time I’d heard of anyone using a pager since the Old World. But you see, even though I've been watching you since the start of the exam, including during that little stunt Vi pulled, I'm a ‘show don't tell’ type of guy so I wanted to see what you were made of before showing up.”
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Rai feels a bit more comfortable, sighing and sitting on his bed.
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“Don't get comfortable yet, you're not off the hook. Firstly, yeah that Marigold brat was wrong. But in all honesty, I said some of what I said just to get them out of here. You were the one who pushed him over the edge.”
Xing says poking Rai's chest.
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“But I was just-”
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Xing interjects.
“Just what? Confused? Trying to help him? Trying not to hurt him? Either way your feats and actions yesterday didn't match up at all with what you did today. It was like you were toying with him. Imagine this: he's been training his whole life, going through hell just like you, and at his lowest point he gets swatted by someone who never even gave it everything they had.”
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Rai thinks about the match, looking at his bandaged arm and down at his feet.
Xing continues.
“Yeah. Take this how you will, but there are times when you should never B.S. someone trying their hardest.”
Xing shoves the bag in his hand in front of Rai's face, making him look up.
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“But still, you show promise, kid. You're on the team. Take a rice cake and come with me.”
The thought of progress and a valuable lecture allows Rai to put the situation somewhat behind him. He hesitantly reaches into the bag and takes one of the rice cakes, following Xing into the hallway.
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“So, I get how you knew I was coming, but how did you know who I was when you saw me?”
Rai asks.
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“For one, Mr.Einzloss told me about your eye color…”
Xing glances at Rai's face.
“But you've also got your mother's face and your father's eyes when he was a little younger. I'd recognize that combo from a mile away. Handsome, maybe not as much as I am, but getting there.”
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Rai doesn't know whether to feel insulted or complimented.
They walk for a little while in silence, riding elevators, crossing indoor bridges with views of the outside, and turning through various corridors.
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“Hey, Kid?”
Xing calls.
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“Yes?”
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“That fighting style you used earlier. What was it?”
Xing asks sincerely.
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Rai wears a fond expression on his face.
“It's called Unorthodoxy, a style thought of by Kahnyne’s son. Exorcists usually stick to a particular gimmick or fighting style due to the burden that being too versatile or wasteful can have on concentration and capacity. But he believed that in his case, it would be most effective to learn many fighting styles and many types of projections to constantly have the opponent wondering what to expect.”
Rai explains.
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“So, a jack of all trades, but a master of none. That's interesting for sure…”
A melancholic smile covers Xing's face.
“But the real music to my ears is the fact you mentioned Mr.Einzloss’ son, which means that he told you everything himself and that he’s truly getting better.”
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More casual silence falls between them as Rai seems to be in deep thought.
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“What was Kahnyne like before?”
Rai finally asks.
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“Thanks to you, the man you trained with is the answer you're looking for. I'd love to have a good duel with him just to see where I'm at now.”
Xing eats another rice cake.
“But maybe that's just the teacher’s pet in me talking.”
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“It took me a year and half just to lay a hand on one of his projections.”
Rai says, sounding oddly fond of his defeats.
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Xing laughs.
“Damn. Yeah, that sounds like him alright.”
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Xing stops in front of a large door with intricate designs engraved into it. He points to a large plaque on the right of it above the door's trim that reads: “Director Lucian”
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“Anyways, enough ass-kissing and flowery talk for today. This is the Director’s office. He wants to see you.”
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Rai looks slightly concerned. He brushes off his clothes and checks his bandages.
“The Director? As in of the entire organization?”
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“Yeah, but don't worry, relax. He's a pretty cool guy. Once again, a little less handsome than I am, but decent nonetheless. Besides, he just wants to check up on you because I reported the incidents during the exam.”
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The door to the office opens and two women exit, walking down the hallway.
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Xing bends down and whispers to Rai.
“Man. Look at the looks on those two. Your type?”
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Rai, who had been reading the information on the director’s plaque, turns to see what Xing is talking about.
“Hmm. I wouldn't know, honestly.”
He says after some thought.
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Xing stands.
“Pfft. You don't know what you're missing, kid. One day you'll-”
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Xing stops talking when the women begin to giggle and bits of their conversation become audible.
“...Director…”
“...beautiful…”
“...I can't believe he's almost 60!...”
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Xing's face goes stale and he slowly crunches on a rice cake.
“On second thought, they weren't all that. I'll be at your room in the morning. Tomorrow you meet the rest of the squad. See ya then,”
He says walking off in the direction they came from.
Rai waves awkwardly and enters the office, closing the door behind him.
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The space before him is lavish, overlooking a majority of the complex through a large window and full of many drawers labelled with what must be files. The director who had been standing between his desk and the window turns to greet Rai. Immediately, Rai notices the Director's face. It's incredibly smooth, flawless even, giving him the appearance of something otherworldly when viewed from afar. The only thing that would prompt one to push his age to 60 is its general structure that could still easily be mistaken for a younger one.
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“Ah, you must be Rai. Please, take a seat,”
He says, walking over to shake his hand, then pointing to one of the wood and sage green seats facing his desk.
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“Would you like anything to drink? Coffee, tea, anything else?”
He asks generously.
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“Milk or water is fine.”
Rai can taste the bitterness on his tongue thinking about the last time he had coffee.
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“A nobleman choosing milk over coffee or tea? I think I like you already. In truth, not many actually enjoy coffee or tea until so much is added to them that they're unrecognizable.”
He hands Rai a cup of milk and sits at his desk with a cup of water.
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“So, I heard from Xing that you encountered some issues and discrimination during the exam. You're in a tough spot being both a Gifted Ahstralan and a Lilac. Now that you're with him though, I doubt that anyone will give you any trouble…”
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Rai thinks about the way Bly and his guards retreated without Xing lifting a finger.
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“Xing Ken, the Mountain, is a testament to the reality that is the Weight of the Soul. In fact, he's the reason why final exams are carried out the way they are now. I’d hate to make an enemy of him.”
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The Director takes a sip of water. Rai has already finished his milk.
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“But I digress. The reason I wanted to see you was because you deserve to know about how your family got into the position they're in now. I figure now would be a fitting time to tell you considering what you went through during the exam and what I’m assuming the Marigold heir brought up.”
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Rai's grip on his cup tightens, slightly crumpling it. He begins to listen intently.
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“First, a question. If you could, in theory, completely bring someone back from the afterlife in physical form, could you think of a benefit of being able to do so?”
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Rai, normally reserved, finds himself immersed in the scenario.
“You could bring back someone you love. Someone who was taken away too soon.”
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“A fair benefit…”
The director stands again, with his cup of water in hand, facing the window.
“But consider this con. There lived people in the Old World: demons of greed, murders, those who lived for war and bloodshed, spearheads of genocide. And there are surely unhappy people who would want nothing but to bring the world to ruin by bringing them back. Who knows how powerful their desires would make them in the New World.”
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He sits the cup on his desk and faces Rai.
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“Your parents were researchers on a team participating in the Tier 5 Project: an attempt to find a way to bring souls back from the afterlife and place them in new, compatible vessels. In other words, Forced Reincarnation. However, their site was raided and the leader of the project was never found. The two of them would have been executed like many of the other researchers, but in exchange for their lives, they gave up much of their fortune and their places in society as high-nobles.”
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Rai looks to be in deep thought, looking into his empty cup.
“Why would they do such a thing knowing the consequences?”
He asks somewhat rhetorically.
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“It's complicated, Rai. There are many things in the world that people want. Undisputable fame, wealth, love, health, some even believe that this New World of ours has already entered a crash course and that it may be better if it could just be reset. In the end, I guess many are just unhappy and unsatisfied.”
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The director opens one of the drawers on his desk and walks over to Rai.
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“But enough of that. I figured that would throw a rain cloud over this meeting so I wanted to give this to you personally. Congratulations on your exam.”
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Now sitting on Rai's lap is a large card containing much of his personal info. The words “Field Exorcist Trainee” clearly stand out to him above the many digital buttons below it.
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“Thank you, Director.”
Rai says, still marveling at the changing holographic displays on the card.
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The Director walks back to his desk talking a seat again.
“The pleasure is all mine, Rai. I'm expecting great things from you. You're dismissed, but come by again any time.”
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Rai bows and eagerly leaves the room. He finds himself almost jogging with how fast he's walking. And even though his face doesn't show it, he's beaming on the inside. Back at his room, he finally opens his suitcase, grabbing an envelope, pen, and piece of paper.
He begins to write:
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“Hey, Kahnyne, how are you? It's Rai. I guess you would know that before you open it though, right? I just finished my exams and I'm officially an exorcist! It feels like this has been a lot longer than two days with everything going on.
The food is great, and it's surprising how many different kinds of people there are. For example, I met Xing! He’s… interesting, but I can tell your lectures touched him too, so I know he's a good person… He also may have saved my life today, so I see what you meant about being treated differently. I haven't been flawless but I'm doing great!”
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Rai pauses to reflect, realizing what he just wrote and looking at the dented, splintered wood from his wall. What is “great” about this? He finds himself scratching out and writing the same lines over and over again.
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“Kahnyne, I thought about scraping this, but I felt bad because that would feel like lying to you; I apologize. The truth is, I thought I almost made a friend. Have you ever felt similar to someone in all the wrong ways, but was too scared, hurt or maybe even too naive to make them right? I’m starting to see that maybe it would be best if I just stuck to the reason that I’m here while blocking out anything else. I succeeded in my first step, but I’m just not used to all this. Write back soon. I feel like I need to hear your thoughts.”
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Rai signs the letter and falls asleep without even picking up a book.
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