“Raegoth Ni’rial.”

The full name is an anagram.

Raegoth thought of C. P., the one who had killed Dube Dube; and using his receptor, Thought for Z Equals X Squared Plus Y Squared.

The sensation was new. It had been decades, he knew, since he had last used this technology; back then, they were novel to the world.

Raegoth. I didn’t know you used receptors. C. P.’s voice sounded foreign.

He did now. Are you in the field? If C. P. was out acquiring Scions, this was a good time. I’d like to be there for the purification.

I’m in the Enclave, with your superior. But we can wait.

And wait they would. Perhaps rising in the ranks was not motivation enough for C. P.; but Dube Dube died in the field, died taking in Scions; and the motivation for preventing that duty was clear. C. P. or Rexy or Z. X. or whatever name their anagram was a Scion themselves and had infiltrated the Agency for that very purpose. Entered their holy sanction a place where he, Raegoth, had lost his—

He had lost.

“I’ll try it first. It might be poisoned.”

He rose and put away the receptor, tucking it into the lining of his uniform. The movement caused a slight crease in the letter shaped like an R. Upon special request the symbol of their Agency was more fitting for what he bore for their purpose and Hector wore it every day. Hector wore it every day.

Hector wore it every day.

“Raegoth, are you crying?”

He opened his eyes to see N’ziet, hands and feet pressed against the sides of the narrowest section of their hallway; doing his morning exercise, dressed in the usual pants of that sepia-grey loose fabric that High called flynder and nothing else.

“Yes,” Raegoth said. “I am going to the Enclave to see this mystery solved. Are you coming with me?”

N’ziet let go and landed precisely on his toes. “I’m just glad I don’t have to walk with Felton anymore. We’re getting it done?”

They all knew, then. Lind had given the word.

Raegoth nodded and N’ziet matched his stride as they crossed the hallway. It was long and Agents passed by them, waving.

“Every Alteryear just changing their eye color. And to make it black.” N’ziet shuddered visibly. “I haven’t talked philosophy with Z Equals X Squared Plus Y Squared yet but they are definitely a Modern Era Rejectionist.”

By now they were entering the cafeteria, and Agents Bola and Felton were playing catch; Felton yanking at her ears as she waited for the sailing alter hydro dynamo frisbees to land in Bola’s outstretched arms. “Hey, join us,” Agent N’ziet said, moving an arm up and down. “We’re purifying C. P.”

“WOOF!” yelped Agent Felton, padding over; some Agents looked on curiously; others laughed, pointing as she skipped some steps on the way. Bola followed, having caught the frisbee; her hair was frizzled. “Thanks, Dri,” she told N’ziet, who flicked a finger through her jellyfish tangled afro. “Lind isn’t coming?” he said.

“Probably not,” Raegoth replied. Had taken no interest. He hoped that Lind and Artok were enjoying their coffee. “Come here, Felt,” he said, reaching down to scratch the dog behind her ears. She padded along, tongue hanging out.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Raegoth, N’ziet, Bola, Felton; they made a fine group. They now reached the doors at the end of the wide-open space that led to the Enclave’s enjambment. They went through, N’ziet holding the door open for them all; Mik’vael was waiting inside, Rexy besides her, holding their anagrammed weapon with no name. A Scion lay bruised and bloodied at their feet.

Rexy looked at Raegoth, expressionless; he stepped on the portal and was the first to be taken to the Eden Chambers. Once there, he chose a bench and sat. One by one, other Agents filed in. And Raegoth waited.

Incoming Thought message. Identity, Director Vander Morht.

Accept. Will you be coming as well, Director, he thought.

And now, I’m used to being called that, came the response. Step into the portal that C. P. does not.

But he—no. He would not question the Director. He, Raegoth, was an Agent of the First Bureau and today was a day to renew all names. In the world where the children chose—

But I am not a Scion.

A tint of laughter came through the Thought-feed.

And neither is Rexy. The Thought-feed closed and Raegoth stood, troubled.

“What is it, Raegoth?” Agent Mik’vael asked. Her uniform was spotless; no crumbs to adorn it.

“Put C. P. into the portal,” he ordered; and Rexy did not struggle as they entered one of the two portals in the center.

“It’s really getting to you,” was all they said. “The loss of your partner.”

Raegoth felt the colors turn within him, and he looked down; his feet began moving, and he let out a yelp. Felton whined. N’ziet turned his head. Bola squinted. Raegoth’s feet soon took him to the second portal, which was empty. Nothing was entering it from the one containing C. P.

“What are you doing… ?” came Mik’vael’s voice, and Raegoth’s mouth opened, and recited the words.

“We ask that this Scion be purified.”

C. P. turned to look at him. An image of C. P. walking across the facade of the Menagerie, to scale its sheer surface whose roof bore a hidden figure with a long mane…

“I told you; the full name is an anagram.”

And the splinters in Raegoth’s mind became as the spaces between the colors on an eight-colored rainbow. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, identity, violet. They merged together and began to circle in a flickering color wheel of the brightest of light. And as his mind watched the madness of change Raegoth understood at this time that essential ideas were being reformed. The colors became letters. His name.

R A E G O T H / N I R I A L

A R E G O T H / N I R I A L

O R E G A T H / N I R I A L

O R I G A I H / N E R T A L

O R I G A I L / N E R T A H

O R I G I A L / E N R T A H

O R I G I A L / E N A R T H

O R I G I N A L // E A R T H

As Raegoth opened his eyes, he remembered. He remembered Director Vander in the Enclave, calling him. He had been inside one of these portals in the Garden. And there had been something inside the other. Red and yellow with an identity in between. The color of fire. A word.

Reify