Chapter One - Orientation

This really wasn't how Simon saw his day ending. Sitting silently in the fane, for God knows how long, staring into the night sky through the skylight. Trying to think of any possible way out of doing what he knows, needs to be done.

Knowing what one absolutely must do, has never made making the choice to do so any easier. Or changed the fact that it must be done. However, he figured that definitively life changing decisions warrant a few extra minutes of thought. Or a few extra minutes of normality. One last chance to feel the weightlessness of irresponsibility.

Slowly getting up from his seat in the stands, Simon walks down the stairs towards the altar at the center of the fane. The walk is almost an 200 meters from the bottom of the stands to the altar. The floor is covered with numbered floor mats that goes up into the ten thousands, that are used for the trials. He stop near mat 742, his, and his gaze lingers, admiringly on the plush mat. Once again, noticing a detail he was to preoccupied to notice before. It's a stylized version of the trinity.

His heart aches. He yearns, so desperately, to be that person again. The person who had the conviction to do what needed to be done. In his nostalgia for 8 hours ago, he remembers what that person was preparing to do. What that person was willing to sacrifice for those he loved. That gives him courage. While subjectively this is a greater sacrifice, it proves to him that he has the capacity to do this.

Can I do this?

Sigh. He shakes his head.

Do I even have a choice?

Silencing his thoughts, he continues the walk to the alter. Reaching the stairs that lead to the stage he is, once again, in awe of the grandeur of the orb. Revealing more and more as he climbs he notes that the orb is about half a meter in diameter and so beautifully transparent one would probably miss it if you weren't paying enough attention.

Earlier this evening he didn't get a chance to get a proper look at the orb or the glowing, ornate, silvery pedestal it floats above, which seemed to be made to enhance and reflect the moonlight. He walks around the two artifacts, marveling at the intricate designs and the fact that these have survived 1500 years without any sign of deterioration. The orb is silently, slowly, and almost imperceptibly revolving above the pedestal. He knows he's stalling but it's just a few extra minutes before the excitement begins.

Who would begrudge me that? Sigh.

Today was supposed to be a day of first. His first day of adulthood. His brother's, technically third, first day being officially cancer free. The first day of what he planned to be a wonderfully normal rest of his life.

Simon had everything figured out. Graduate, following that, two years as a safety officer in the service. Then police academy. With his semi-noble status he could have gone far. He could have ended up with a cushy 9 to 5 desk job in upper middle management, pushing papers, after a prolific tenure of detective work, until retirement.

But he would have never imagined that, perversely enough, tonight would end as a night of lasts.

Potentially, his last night of anonymity. Definitively, the last night of his loved ones, looking at him like he was one of them. The last night of his life. The life he had painstakingly crafted, planned, and longed for for most of said life. Such a shame. All that preparation, for nothing.

Well not for nothing. It was mostly reading, learning how to read people, and deduction. And for all he knows, that might be helpful later on.

Looking back, Simon could tell that today was going to be an auspicious day. So many things were happening today. He didn't know it then, but he was more right than he could have possibly imagined.

Fully aware that nothing can get him out of this, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lancing device. He pulls back the sliding mechanism that controls the needle, cocking the lancer. Turning the gear on the side, he adjust the depth the needle pierces to its deepest setting. With the barrel placed on the tip of his index finger, he pushes the button.

Simon immediate feels the lancet stab into my finger. He quickly lances his finger a second and third time.

I'm gonna need quite a lot of blood for this aesthetic plan.

He puts the lancing device back into his pocket and using his fingers, he guides the blood to the tip of his perforated finger. Letting it gather on the tip. Satisfied with the amount of blood he's gathered after a while, he places his finger against the revolving orb.

Keeping his finger still and in light contact with the orb, he creates a line of blood. When his finger reaches the beginning of the line he remove it, leaving a circle of blood around the orb.

The blood sits on the outside of the orb for a second after his finger moves away then, just like last time, it is slowly absorbed into the center of the orb. Unlike last time as soon as a bit of the blood reaches the center, the orb begins to glow white. It starts in the center of the orb, growing brighter and bigger every passing second. Soon it is almost blinding. The light suddenly shoots into the air through the skylight. The white light hits the dome and  spreads the light throughout the entire domain, illuminating the dome for all to see.

“Shit!”

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19 hours earlier

The alarm is the first thing Simon hears. The loud ringing, waking him from his  sleep. Eyes closed, he feels around for his cell phone. The ringing sound is becoming louder and more annoying by the second. Now fully awake and completely annoyed Simon opens his eyes and reinvigorates his search.

Unsuccessful in locating the source of his anguish, he switches tactics and decides to look for his charger. Finding it, he then follows it to under his bed.

Hanging off the side his bed he spots the cur. Pulling the charger until he has the phone in hand, he quickly dismisses the alarm and is surprised to see that it's 4:32 in the morning.

I actually woke up on time.

For Simon this is a first. For the majority of his life he has been a notoriously deep sleeper. He has never woken up, by himself, on time for anything. Ever. Waking up 15 minutes before he had to be at school is as much a part of his identity as the glasses on his face. Alarms haven't ever really worked for him. He could've, and indeed has, slept through an earthquake. Several in fact.

While Simon has always been, at most, wary of his sleeping, let's say, eccentricity. The idea of him always being late for work, and having to figure out how he would wake up on time when he was an adult terrified his parents. They have always been scared that he would remain ever tardy. Simon often assured them that once he was an adult he would wake up with the alarm. And what do you know. Today's his birthday. The big 16. Finally an adult, societally anyway. And amazingly he was right.

Maybe. Simon knows that there are other factors to consider. A lot of things are happening today.

And while the idea that his tendency to oversleep was a symptom of childhood and has been outgrown, is an attractive one. He knows that correlation doesn't equal causation. But here he is. Laying on his bed, awake before the sun had even risen. But then again, it is the first time this has happened and further examples are necessary to be sure.

Another possible explanation for Simon's timely rousing from sleep is graduation. Today is the last day of his compulsory education. No more homework that he could do in his sleep, though he almost never did. No more dealing with Instructors that determined your worth based on grades. He would soon be able to learn what he wanted, when he wanted. After his two years of service to the domain of course. But he had already been accepted to the Patrol.

And with graduation comes the trials. The rite of passage for every child in the domain. To be taken after graduation.  

Another reason could be that his brother, Tao, gets his blood results back today.

Tao has been battling leukemia for the past 2 years. Before the diagnosis, Simon and Tao were the best example of brotherhood. Love, support, friendship, there was nothing Tao couldn't ask of his brother and receive or at least get his best effort. And visa versa. Even with the age gap Simon loved his brother like he was a part of himself.

After the diagnosis, the relationship didn't change. Simon would do his best to make sure Tao felt like a normal kid. After the chemo treatments started, whenever Tao couldn't make it to school Simon would coordinate with Tao’s teacher and keep track of what was taught in class l, then teach Tao at home. When it got really bad and Tao had to take and leave of absence from school, Tao kept up with the teacher and slowly kept teaching Tao. All the while feeding, bathing, and dealing with Tao’s waste.

For Simon it wasn't taking care of Tao, it was spending time with his brother while showing him that he still hadn't given up on him. After a year and a half of chemotherapy, Tao finally beat the cancer back. But shortly after, he relapsed. And it returned with a vengeance. It quickly progressed to the stage where the only chance he had was a bone marrow transplant. Luckily he had the surgery a few weeks ago. Simon plans to wish him luck before going to graduation orientation.

The last possible reason Simon could think of would be excitement.

Last night he was meditating before going to sleep like always. Simon’s meditation process is something he has worked on and progressed with for years.

Simon relaxes and conjures, in his mind's eye a hollow copy of himself full of the day's events and emotions. Every feeling of that day, all the joy, anger, pain, guilt, pleasure, happiness, doubt, sadness etc. Each emotion is represented by a different color.

First he gather all the positive emotions and draws them out of his ethereal body. He pools all those emotions to a ball. He compresses it to as concentrated a form as he can manage, then places it in front of his heart. It seeps into his chest where it slowly disappears, integrating into him.

Next Simon pictures the bad events, emotions, and problems of the day seeping from his pores and dissipating into the air around him. The copy of him slowly becomes a void. Colorless and clean. A clean slate black for a brand new day.

A lot must have happened that day because Simon lost track of time and suddenly it was midnight. It was his birthday.

Out of nowhere, the view of Simon in his mind's eye changed. These colorful streams of light suddenly appeared all around him. Their paths were random and fluid. They were all different sizes, shapes and colors. The one common thing is that they never touched Simon. The streams would approach him but before they reached him they would be diverted. It was happening so often that he could see that there was an unmistakable circle around him.

During meditation he often see flashes of color so he wasn't too surprised but this was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He chose to focus on and rededicate himself to nothingness and strengthening the void inside him. But suddenly his void began acting like a vacuum. The colorful streams more and more crashed against this circular wall until a crack appeared in the wall. With the crack the streams focused on that area and bombarded it over and over until a hole formed and a single red stream slipped into his space and in a flash Simon could somehow sense the stream. To him it seemed almost alive. This stream was extremely thin and about three feet long.

Once inside his space the stream began to circle him, as if assessing him. Its touch felt cool and energizing. It soon began caressing him as other streams slipped in through the hole in his sphere. And like before once they pierced through his sphere and into his space he could sense them. Blue, green, white, yellow, brown, black, purple, all sorts of colors poured through into his space.

The space was getting cramped and with all these colorful streams floating around, almost competing to be next to Simon.

A feeling wiggled in the back of his mind. While meditating Simon tried never move. One must think to move and that's kind of counterproductive in meditation. However, in Simon's eyes,this stopped feeling like meditation a while ago. So Simon decided to follow this feeling.

He made a slight change to the lotus position and cupped his hands in front of him.        

The streams immediately began to gravitate toward his hands and pooled into a ball. The ball was about 3 inches in diameter The streams feed directly into the ball. The ball got denser and denser as it is fed more and more streams. The orb suddenly began to pulse and the streams stopped flowing into the order and began to act normally, caressing and flowing around him.

With every pulse of the orb Simon could feel his hands throb with an energy he had never felt before. The energy coursed through his hands and forearms. Fire and ice pumped through his veins. It felt… good. The orb radiated a feeling Simon wanted to be closer to. He raised the orb closer to his chest and near his heart.

The orb of energy then begins its descent into his chest and slowly dissipated. When the ball disappeared completely into his chest, it exploded and colored his entire void. The energy reached another level as it pulsed through his entire body radiating from his chest.

While Simon was enraptured with the feeling of this foreign energy what he didn't notice was the sphere was slowly regenerating. The hole was slowly closing. When it closed completely the sphere vibrated and the streams disappeared out of the blue. Simon was shocked out of the meditative state. He collapsed in a heap of sweat.

Confused and excited, Simon attempted to feel that energy again. He entered his meditative state but it was ineffectual.  He stayed up for another hour until he decided that he had to go to sleep.

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For Simon, waking up, full of energy, after just over three hours of sleep is an impossibility. For the Simon of yesterday at least. As to why he woke up on time today? He can't know until further evidence presents itself.

Simon gets off the bed to stretch the night's sleep away. He heads to the bathroom to prepare for the day. He sneaks past his brother's bedroom door and heads down the hallway towards the stairs. Just before he reaches the stairs he turns left to the bathroom door. He slowly turns the knob and pushes the door open. And steps inside.

---

While standing in the shower with the water running down his body. He enjoys watching the water run down his body, turning left and right following the muscles which he would say is perfect amount to have. Not too much, but not too little either.

He look further down and sees the water about his feet forming streams, that race to the drain and he remember what he felt last night.

While he is hesitant, he feels that he must try again to determine whether or not he imagined the event. He turns the water off and hop out of the shower. He walks to the giant tub and start filling it with water.

Once it's full, he climbs in and try to relax. He submerge all but his face into the water. Closing his eyes, he opens his inner eye. He relaxes and enters into a meditative state. He sees his hollow self practically empty. Not much has happened today so he is immediately void. He sits in the bath and waits.

Skin wrinkly, he crawls out of the tub and towel off. Nothing. No streams of colors, no energy, nothing. Just like last night. Disappointed but still enthralled, Simon resolves to try again under the similar circumstances tonight. He brushes his teeth and gaze into the mirror above the sink. He notices his hair. He know this is going to be a struggle.

Wet, dry, greased, it doesn't matter. His hair has a mind of its own. After rinsing his mouth he attempts to put the unruly mop of black hair into a shape resembling a style for a good five minute before giving up the unwinnable fight. But not before assuring his hair that “This isn't over. Summer is coming. And the hot months bring the clippers.” He whispers.

After conceding the battle Simon opens the bathroom door, he is immediately assaulted by smell of food cooking. The aroma is wafting up from downstairs.

Towel round his waist, Simon walks out of the bathroom and creeps down the stairs.

Standing over the stove was his father, Daniel.

Simon resembles Daniel almost to a fault. The same wild black hair in funny shapes sits on his head. Slender without being skinny. Daniel is like a look into the future for Simon. The only noticeable thing Simon inherited from his mother are his hazel eyes.

Hearing Simon come down the stairs, Daniel turns around and says, “Hey Si.”

“Good morning dad,” Simon replied. “I didn't know you'd be up this early.”

Daniel smiles. “I could say the same for you.” Daniel plates the food he was cooking and turns to Simon, “I just couldn't live with myself if I didn't send you off this morning without breakfast.”

Simon takes the plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes.

“Dad,” Simon says. “I can't eat all this, not with the rationing.” He tries to hand the plate back.

Daniel pushes it back toward Simon. “Of course you can. You only graduate once.”

“Where did you even get eggs and bacon?” Simon asked, salivating at the smell of food he hasn't seen in months.

“I've still got my ways.” Daniel coyly replied.

“And how much did it cost?” Simon questioned his father, hoping that it wasn't too expensive.

“No where near what you're worth,” Daniel rubs Simon's head. “It also doubles as a birthday present so eat up before it gets cold.”

“A birthday present? What is this the 900’s?” Simon asks jokingly with his father.

“Well, there was a documentary about them a few months ago and I wouldn't mind bringing it back. At least for the family. It's a nice idea, celebrating your birth with gifts from your loved ones. Even if a bit archaic.”

Simon looks at his father with love and mouths ‘Thank you’ before going to the table and sitting down to begin eating in earnest.

Daniel picks up a mug of coffee and takes and sip. “So, today's the big day eh?”

“For Tao, yeah.” Simon replies with his mouth full.

“Don't worry about Tao, everything will be alright. I meant that it's a big day for you. Quite the convergence of events.” Daniel clarifies.

“I know, I just wish…,” Simon stops his fork halfway to his mouth, he puts it back on the plate and continues, “I just wish that there was something I could do to make sure it's gone, for good this time.”

Daniel sighs, he puts his hand on Simon's shoulder and looks Simon in the eye. “You've already done more than most people would have done, and way more than what was asked of you.”

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“What if it isn't enough? What if there was something more that I could have done, or given?” Simon asked, tears welling in his eyes.

Daniel takes hold of Simon's face. “Oh, kid. You have done so more than enough.”

He hugs Simon. “Through all of this you have been the most amazing brother and friend to Tao and son and help to your mother and I that anyone could have asked for. And no matter what the results are, Tao knows that everything possible is being done. And he knows that this chance at life is down to you. There is nothing more you could do and nothing more you could give.”

Simon hugs his dad back, “I just really want it to be enough.”

“We all do kid, we all do.” Daniel kisses Simon on his forehead.

After a minute Daniel asks “Are you okay now? Done with the emotions?”

“Yeah dad, thanks.”

“It's no problem. By the way, I just wondering...where did you learn to be a lil’ bitch?” he asked.

“Well you know, like father, like son,” Not one to miss a step, Simon replied, wiping the welled tears from his eyes.

They both smile and laugh.

Daniels whispers, “You little smart ass.”

Simon retorts, “I learned from the best.”

---

After Simon finishes eating he goes to the sink and begins to wash his plate. Daniel is drinking his coffee at the table.

“Dad,” Simon asks, “when you meditate, do you ever see weird things?”

“Weird like what?”

Simon finishes washing his plate and puts it away. He answers, “Like colors, but fluid and kind of alive.”

“Not that I remember,” Daniel replies “but I have seen my fair share of weird things while meditating. It's nothing abnormal, it's just your brain being overactive.”

Simon continues. “Have you ever felt anything weird while meditating? Like-”

There's a knock on the door.

“I'll get it!” Simon says, eager to stop his mouth from making him a weirdo.

Best not to tell anyone unless it happens again. Could have been a one off.

Simon walk-runs to the front door. He opens it and sees a tall, broad chested, blond haired, blue eyed teen, about his age, in a letterman jacket, on the porch. Simon smiles.

“Simon, you're up?” The boy asks, clearly surprised.

“I told you I'd be up bae,” Simon replied.

“I never doubted you for a moment,” The boy replies.

The boy leans down and kisses Simon before entering the house.

“Oh, good morning to you too,” Simon laughs happily.

Closing the door Simon looks back toward the kitchen and softly yells, “It's Steven.” Simon knows that his dad loves Steven and would take any opportunity to talk about sports with him.

“Sorry babe. Good morning,” Steven replies grabbing Simon by the waist and bringing them closer together. “I just missed you.”

Daniel walks into the living room and Steven says, “Good morning, Mr. Valorian.”

“Good morning Steven, would you like some breakfast?” Daniel asks.

“No thank you I already ate.”

Steven looks to Simon gives him a look.

Simon, realizing that he is still just wearing a towel around his waist says, “I'll be back babe. I'm gonna go get ready now.”

Simon runs up to his room as he hears his dad ask, “Did you catch the game last night?”

Upstairs, Simon passes the bathroom, his brother's room, and finally enters his room.

Fashion has never been anything of great importance to Simon. He threw open his closet and put on the first shirt and pants he could find. He slipped into his shoes before leaving his room.

He stopped by his brother's door and opened it quietly. He walked into the room and stood above his brother's bed, watching him sleep. With a face so different from his own his brother slept peacefully. Tao looked much more like their mother. The two common thing between the boy was their eyes and willful hair. Inherited from their mother and father respectively. Though by sleeping, his eyes hid that maternal trait, the cancer took the other reminder of their paternal bond. His hair still hadn't grown back from the radiation therapy.

Simon leaned down and kissed his brother's forehead. He took a deep breath and sighed. He left the room and walked down stairs.

“Alright dad, I'll see you later,” Simon said as he reached the bottom step.

“Bye Si. Remember we’re not gonna be here when you get back so we’ll see you at the trials. Love you”

“Alright dad, I love you too.”

Steven and Simon leave the house and walk to Steven’s truck parked in the driveway.

When they reach the truck Simon, lost in his own world, climbs in without a word. Steven steps in and they drive to the school.

Simon is quiet for most of the ride. Steven, noticing the mood decides to act. He grabs Simon's hand.

“Tao is going to be just fine,” Steven reassures.

Simon takes and moment to collect his thoughts before replying, “In my mind I know that worrying isn't going to help or do anything except make him worry. but I just can't help it. He's Tao. If he… if he didn't make it… I know, I just know, I would lose it. And… it's just… today has just started and just thinking ahead on what's going to happen has me overwhelmed.”

Steven put his arm around Simon and gave him a hug. Simon relaxes into Steven’s embrace. For the rest of the ride they remain like that in silence.

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The graduating class of the highest-rated secondary school in the Domain, Valoria Secondary, has been waiting in the courtyard outside the auditorium for quite a while. Though the sun had yet to rise from behind the horizon and warm the air, there was an unmistakable current of excitement running through the crowd that staved away the chills.

The vast majority of students have kept true to form and gravitated to like minded others. Remaining in their obvious and quite clichéd cliques.

The jocks, brazenly boast among themselves. Touting their sexual conquests and prowess on the field. Jostling each other with shoves and playful rough housing.

The nerds, with their own, odd, hierarchical structure, sat around voicing their predictions of what was to come.

The nobles, smug in their sense of indisputable superiority. Stemming from their high birth or whatever such bullshit they tell themselves. There are a few exceptions of course.

Not many students were by themselves. And far rarer were the solitary by choice. Simon was one of the rare ones. He isn't what anyone would call a people person. He tends to find that he can only take so much interaction and teenaged angst before he shuts down and his friends respect that. Often times they protect him from the masses.

Lauren Valorian, his and Steven’s girlfriend and a true blue blooded noble. Niece to the Mayor of Valoria. She's the highest ranking noble in the school currently. Her mere presence can send people beneath her status scampering away. She has perfected the look of seeing through someone. Haughty and cold. With eyes that cut to the bone. It's the sign that they are dismissed. But she is perfectly sweet really. She just knows and cares for him.

Steven is the quintessential jock in most ways, save for one aspect. His intelligence. Surprisingly the Mayor of the jocks is the only one that is held in high regard by the nerds. His intelligence is seconded only by the very smartest of the nerds. He puts on a no nonsense look backed by his enormous frame, that sends people packing when he senses Simon approaching his limit. For someone so high maintenance Simon feels really lucky to have found two people patient enough to love him just the way he is. For most of the other students Simon, Lauren and Steven are the model triple. And no matter the pairing, model couples too. Simon/Lauren, Steven/Simon, or Lauren/Steven.

While Simon isn't the most athletic person he can hold his own in any feat of physicality on the field. While his grades are passable it is well known that he can trounce the nerds in all subjects academic. And despite the fact that his last name reflects relation to the noble family, at least a tangential one, Lauren is the only reason he would be allowed to hang with the nobles. Or would even want to for that matter.

Normally Simon would be with Lauren and Steven but he feels that the best way to prepare for what is happening later today is to meditate.

Simon is sitting there on his own, eyes closed, controlling his breath and filtering out all distractions. Becoming one with the world. Searching for enlightenment, but really just a repeat of whatever happened last night.

The worry over Tao fades into the surrounding air. The love and support from his father and boyfriend solidify and enter to his heart.

Simon sits there, void as the day he came into this world. But nothing. No flashes or feeling. There is a flicker of something but before his mind can properly register it, it is snuffed out. Again and again he tries to no avail. The only in road he makes is with clarification of the what he feels.

It feels a bit like restriction. But it is closer to… drowning... no, smothering. But smothering still feels like the wrong word. It's more like the numbness that comes from suppression. A numbing suppression.

With a frown he opens his eyes. Surprisingly, the courtyard is empty save for himself and Steven, who was patiently sitting next to him.

“We didn't want to disturb you so Lauren went inside and is stalling the orientation.” Steven said in his charmingly calm voice, which is odd for a guy who looks like he could tip over a cow.

“Thanks guy,” Simon replied. “Sorry for all the trouble.”

Steven smiles and says “It's no trouble at all babe.”

Steven leans in and kisses Simon. He then says, “You know she loves to throw her weight around.”

We laugh as we stand and begin to walk towards the auditorium entrance.

The auditorium is more like a mini theatre. It can seat 3000 people and is where the students perform plays and recitals.

When Simon and Steven entered the auditorium everyone was seated except for Lauren and a man in a suit. Both on stage, and by the looks and sounds of it, in a heated argument.

Simon and Steven walk down the main aisle and approach their reserved seats in the middle of the front row, Steven clears his throat. The man and Lauren both look over to Steven. Simon gets a quick look at the man.

He's young. Mid thirties, above average height, expensive glasses. From the look of his suit he is paid well. He has a Valorian flag pin on his left lapel, so he is from the government and should be pretty high up. Which begs the question. What is he doing here going through a trial orientation?

Maybe he messed up and this is his punishment. Waking up at the ass crack of dawn to do something that can be done by a the dean of the school. Perhaps, something big has changed for the better and the young go getter wants to be associated with the change. Or something changed for the worse. And his seniors wanted someone to blame. They sent him here reasoning that a younger face would soften the blow. But he knew what they were doing and while he is doing this he is putting the wheels of his revenge plan into motion as we speak.

Or perhaps sending him here gives them a scapegoat to give them plausible deniability for -

STOP! Stop it Simon. This is unimportant. Stop thinking about things that don't matter and could be way off. Plus the fact that Lauren has made him angry will result in skewed information based on any face reading during the speech that could lead me to the truth. Just focus on the pretty girl.

As Lauren turns she sees Steven and Simon and her face brightens. Smiling, she turns to the man in the suit and says, “Never mind, carry on,” in a chipper voice and walks off the stage towards them.

She gives Simon a hug and a kiss and he says “Thanks love.” She grabs hold of my hand and intertwines our fingers. “Anything for you babe” she whispers in his ear. She turns to Steven and kisses him before saying, “Thanks bae.”

Steve whispers into her ear, “Anything for you love.”

The man in the suit, not being an idiot, seemes to put one and two together as he rolled his eyes.

“Now that everyone is here, do I have your permission to begin, Milady Valorian?” he asked bowing into a grand reverential bow.

Noticing the sarcasm, she didn't say a word. She leads us to our seats.

A few laughs sprinkle throughout the crowd. Steven begins to get up from his seat, his face, the picture of wrath. Simon places his arm in front of him. They share a look. With steely eyes and a slight nod of his head Simon assures Steven that he will handle this. Steven nods back, his face returning to its original shade. For all his intelligence, Steven preferred to solve problems with his fist. Perhaps there was something in approach that Simon couldn't fathom, but he knew, that wasn't the path for right now.

An eye for an eye. Shot for shot. Humiliation for humiliation.

“Good” the suited man exclaimed. “Now back to business.”

He clears his threat and takes a deep breath.

“Good morning class of ‘23. My name is Mr. Arnaez. And I am from the Department of the Trials. I am here to talk with you all about the trial that you all will be experiencing later today.”

“The trial is the rite of passage all Valorians go through after they graduate secondary school. Today, you will join the ranks of people who have taken this step into adulthood.”

Mr. Arnaez paces back and forth across the stage.

“Now,” he continues “as lovely as it would be to stand here all day and look at your faces in all their… splendor. We are running far behind schedule” he glances at my lovers and I. “And as I've other schools to orient. There was to be a whole speech that I would have read but I'll just sum it up for you.”

Mr. Arnaez clears his throat. And begins.

“Valoria. The domed city. And for all we know the only city left in the world. Its history goes back 1500 years. It has seen departure from rurality. The shift to urbanization. The subsequent, albeit slow, fall of patriarchal thinking. The rise of technology. It as seen every act that had a hand in shaping the way we now live our lives. And for every one of those 1500 years there has been The dome, the fane, and the vault.”

This is all information we know. Why submit us to a history lesson that we learned in primary school?

Ignoring the dead stares from the crowd, he plows on.

“There are many theories about the purpose behind those three artifacts. Some people believe the they were sent by a deity. And whosoever completes it will lead the faithful into the afterlife through the Vault.”

“Others believe it is a test that was left behind by the first generation of the Valorian line and completion of the Trials will allow one to enter the Vault and remove the artifact left behind by the founder of the Valorian line. To lead us out of the dome and safely past the dead lands surrounding us.”

“And on and on and on.” He motions with his hand.

“I assure you that there are at least seven other distinct views on the origin of the what some people call the ‘holy trinity’.”

Oh my dome, this guy is a veritable fountain of exposition.

“We know this already!” Simon yells.

Mr. Arnaez looks at him and and scowls.

“Perhaps you do. But I'm sure, you of all people, Mr. Valoria, aren't assuming that everyone here is as smart as you.”

“I would never make such an indefensible assumption.” Simon says as he stands up and walks toward the stage.

“However, the assumption that the test that we all took and passed covered basic domain history, I find quite tenable. For one I know mine did. For two, I'm sure you know as well.” Simon retorts, giving him a knowing look.

The DOT, established to investigate the trials. Unable to, devolved into research. They probably know more about everyone in this room than their parents.

Mr. Arnaez opens, then closes his mouth.

“Get to the point,” Simon says.

He takes a deep breath and continues. Simon walks back to his seat.

“You may be correct Mr. Valoria, but what I'm sure you don't know is that while the relationship between the dome, the fane, and the vault is not concrete, we have recently discovered that all three appeared around the same time. All are, even with our highly-advanced technology, resistant to any sort of analysis. We can't make a mark on either the dome, the vault, or the artifact that send you into what the state calls a deep hypnotic state, wherein you take the trials, housed in the fane.”

Simon perk up at this new information. This is one more link to further strengthen his personal theory.

Mr. Arnaez puts his hand in the air and says “We don't tell you this information to affect your beliefs, we just want to give you the most up to date facts.” He lowers his hands.

“Now while your parents, elder siblings, other family members and friends may have told you somethings about the Trials, as without a doubt you will as tell your children and whatnot. You should have realized, by now at least, that every trial is different.”

“My department has been detailing trials for centuries. And there has never been a case of an identical trial since we've begun documenting them.”

Never? That's an immense number of trials. The number of variation must be staggering.

“We have haven't found out much but what we have discovered is quite interesting.”

Maybe this won't be a waste of time after all.

“First of all, while The Trials may have different aspects or even goals for everyone, it isn't infinitely creative. We have cataloged countless variations of certain types of trials. Some changes are slight but some are major. The amazing thing is that even two similar trials with just faint variations during which two testers make the same decision wildly changes the results. It is remarkable really.”

Remarkable is putting it lightly. The fact that a 1500 year old artifact can compute so many variables is in itself, remarkable. But to project it into our brains and further react to the full imagination of humanity is… bordering magical.

“Secondly, our research also shows that every few years The Trials go through a sort of thematic shift.” He motions his hand flipping over.

“For a few years it will test a single aspect of the testers. There is first, the mind. Mental Acuity and Intelligence. Then it could shift focus to the physicality if the subjects. Strength, speed, reflexes and the such. The last and, arguably, the most difficult theme to prepare for is the focus on ethos. Your personality, your character, your... morality.”

Of course. It would have to be able to read our mind. This is outstanding. I can't wait to experience this.

“One example of a physical trial was once to defeat a fantastical creature with only a sword or a bow and arrows. A morality trial has, in the past, simply asked, which you would save. A baby, you've no ties to, or a family member. Then makes you make the choice. It's really quite fascinating.”

Interesting. Will it be a sort of VR, a projected screen, or a something I can't even conceive.

“While, school itself prepares you for the mental acuity possibility. Some more than others. And being that you all prepare yourselves for the physical possibility thanks to the race after the trials. And there is no real way to change your personality save for time and a good ass whooping. We at the DOT can still help you.”

Simon turns to Lauren “They know what type of trial we are gonna take.” He whispers to her.

“How do you know?” she asked quietly.

Simon says, “Wait for it.”

“After months of the painstakingly long and arduous task of going through trial reports we have found a pattern in the trials. And luckily for you this is the first year in which we are going to inform the graduating class which theme they will face for their trial.”

A murmur buzzed through the crowd.

“Tomorrow the class of '23 will face a physical trial.”

The jocks roared their approval. While Mr. Arnaez motioned for the rowdy boys and girls to calm down.

“While there was some debate in the office we eventually decided that a physical trial was the most likely.”

Most likely. So, sure enough to tell us but not sure enough to not leave some room to wiggle out if necessary.

“But the one thing we know for sure is that not one person, not in 1500 years has ever successfully completed The Trials and entered the Vault.”

The crowd regained some of its sense.

“Bear in mind that there is no winning or losing in the trials. You just have to finish. It may be a fight, you may have to chop down a tree, you might have to catch a bee with your bare feet. It's anyone's guess. But what we would like you to do is spend as much time in there as possible. Think creatively. Think outside of the box.”

“If you have to cut down a specific tree try climbing it first. Get a look around. Dig a hole. See if you can start a fire. Cut down a different tree. Just be creative.”

“Just try to remember everything. The more you remember the more we have to work with. The only way to get information from the artifacts is to experience it. So remember and have fun. You may feel pain but remember it is only in your head. And once you leave everything will be back to normal.”

“But what about the race. It's always been the first ones out get a head start?” A random jock asked.

This question had been on Simon’s mind, but more for Steven than himself. Fuck the race. Bragging rights are worthless.

“Yes we know about the race and party afterward but we really need this so as incentive to, we are funding your party. We rented out the Smith Hotel ballroom. We've hired DJ Swi$hmix for the party. There will be food, drinks, and entertainment. And, since you will technically be adults, we have also rented out the rooms of several hotels for you to sleep over in so none of you have drive home.”

The crowd was in an uproar. Even Lauren and Steve were going crazy. But Simon couldn't get into the spirit of things. He just couldn't wrap his mind around why.

Why go through so much just to get more in depth results. The cost of such a party. The waste of food during the rationing. It just doesn't make sense. Sure the information could be worthwhile but it might not be. Oh my dome. What if the Trials is like a server. That many people staying in the trial for longer than usual, doing more than ever before could lead to... a DDOS attack! They are trying to crash the system.

Simon sits quietly in his seat while Mr. Arnaez tries to gain control of the crowd.

But why, why try to crash the system? They're out of ideas I guess. They've probably known the theme of the Trials for years and are just now releasing the information to butter us up. Who knows what will happen. We could all die.

After the crowd quiets down Mr. Arnaez reaches into his coat's inner breast pocket and pulls out a folded sheet of paper. He opens it and shows the students the coat of arms of the Valorian family.

“There is one more thing,” he waves the paper, “this.”

He smiles. “In my hand is an order from Mayor Valorian himself. He decrees that the top 5 people whose reports are most detailed will be given top priority in employment preparedness for the next 15 years. That's free schooling, 95% guaranteed job placement within qualifications, and moving expenses.”

The students were understandably stunned silent.

This sort of offer is unprecedented. Option like this are usually what nobles get.

Simon was silent for another reason. Even though they were willing to sacrifice the lives of children they weren't willing to play with the lives of nobles.

Mr. Arnaez continued speaking.

“The Mayor would like me to express his gratitude to you all and hope that this offer is enough to convince you of how invaluable you are to the continued existence of our city.”

The audience all stood up and applauded Mr. Arnaez. The sound was deafening.

Simon stands up with the crowd. Clapping, he says under his breath “And the award goes to...”