The next series of questions sent Rey into a panic that could only be felt when one's self-worth hits rock bottom. Rey, being ignorant in matters of the so-called intellectually elite, couldn't answer even one of the questions properly. He had never been properly educated, and he didn't even know how to read the empire's language for Sephira's sake. Now it felt like the man in front of him was asking him questions in another tongue.
"Please list the fundamental particles of the universe. Whether your research has led in the direction of quantifiable matter or a wave-function equation taking into consideration relativistic and non-relativistic particles should be included in your explanation."
I think I only understood the first three words of that.
"I--I think there might have been a mistake." Rey barely sputtered together a coherent response. "Well, could you repeat the question? Could I get the country of origin of the language at least?" Now he was reaching.
"Question two: What is the most efficient form of governmental control? An authoritarian figure with total control may be a figure of strength, yet may also be a despot, depending on their personality and vices. On the other hand, a more democratic form of government contains a lot of 'hemming and hawing,' so to speak, and policy gets made and delivered much more slowly. Please also list the scope of noblesse oblige and the problems with an oligarchical ruling class." There's no way that's the Imperial Tongue.
"Ahem. Yes. Well. I don't like the nobles, but I think a strong leader is good. Maybe if the leader and the court weren't nobles who hoarded all the wealth, the Empire would be better off." Rey responded with his simple, true thoughts.
"Aha. What an amusing response. Yet dramatic changes like that require strength, strength that you don't have." Rey felt the truth of his words, but it felt like the figure was also smirking at him under his mask. "Question three: What is the optimal state of a country's economic system? How should governments and private institutions manage a currency without the threat of constant debasement, fiat fails, and credit fluctuations leading to economic strength or stagnation?"
"Fiat? I mean...y-you see...people do require money, but, it's being held by the rich? Wait, could I redo that question?" Things were not going well for the self-proclaimed king of charisma.
"Fascinating. A boom and then a bust. Maybe question four might help. During the third stage of class development, one must understand the original nature of their Mark. That means understanding its historical and sociological image among the illuminated species. Once you've followed in the footsteps of your forefathers, what is the next concept you must understand?"
This one Rey knew he couldn't answer immediately.
"I'm sorry, but I don't have a mark. I've already passed my 12th birthday, and there's no sign of anything on my body. Plus I can't manipulate mana either. Hell, I can't even read properly!" Reynold's frustrations with himself slipped through his lips and he realized he was giving away his weaknesses."
"So you don't have any skills as an economist, nor as a man of technical progress, and especially not as a mage, a wielder of a brand. In addition, you don't have the aptitude for harnessing even the smallest amount of mana? I find that a little hard to believe. Do you truly not have anything useful you can do?" When he put it like that, Rey felt he was getting smaller by the second. Two more questions and he'd feel smaller than a bug.
Wow, I'm pretty useless, huh? Self-worth has now hit all-time lows. "A-actually, I am a pretty damn good pickpocket if I do say so myself. I know the streets like the back of my hand and I can hide my presence so you can't tell I'm there. I'm good for snooping and stealing food, but I want to be paid for my services." Reynold remembered he did have something he was good at, albeit a bit criminal, and he didn't hesitate to let it shine.
"Hoh? A pickpocket? That may come in handy, but I still believe that you couldn't even steal a money pouch from a scarecrow." Damn.
That irked him off a little bit.
"Let's test your theory, then," Rey responded contentiously. Whether it was confidence or arrogance, something was egging Rey on. Maybe he just didn't want to lose to this mysterious man.
"Well, young man, you didn't even notice I already stole something from you, so I highly doubt that." What? When did he--
Reynold reached down to check his most valuable belongings (his moneybags of course) only to find that the one he had in his back pocket was missing.
"Looking for something?"
Reynold looked up only to see that a patched-up fabric pouch was tossed and landed in front of his feet. To his dismay, it matched the description of his very own pouch of cash. How?
"How did you do that?" He didn't even see the figure move from his chair. Of course, the magic of making pens and paper float in the air and write was cool, but it didn't seem all that powerful.
"It was just a parlor trick. It appears you're not nearly as perceptive as you claim." The figure closed the book in front of him and stood up. "Unfortunately, I must refuse your application and bid you good day." He raised his hand as if he were about to swipe at Rey, even though he was over 20 feet away.
"Wait!" Rey put his hands up in protest (and fear), evoking a pause in the figure's actions. "Please, I'm desperate. I'll do anything you ask of me. I just need some gold for my mother." He pleaded to the enigmatic man wearing in front of him. He had to persuade him. He needed the gold.
A dangerous silence remained with the figure's hand remaining raised. Fortunately, he dropped his hand with a sigh. "I suppose I could find some use for a child like you." He supported his chin in between his fingers as he pondered in silence. Now Rey was beginning to catch on to basic manners and was letting him think in peace.
After what seemed like a lifetime of waiting for Rey, the man opened his mouth. "I have a role for you, but it seems you aren't adequately prepared yet." He pulled down a piece of paper floating above him, actively being written on in mid-air. A contractual document appeared on the surface.
Employment Contract
Effective Immediately
Parties
* This Employment Contract Agreement is effective starting Solaris 387, day 12 of the 9th month, for an indefinite length of time and space set by the Patron**, hereinafter referred to as the Employer, with an address of Reynold Alwyn, hereinafter referred to as the Employee. These are collectively referred to as the Parties.
Duties and Responsibilities
* During the employment period, the Employee shall have the responsibility to perform the following duties:
* The Employee must put in effort to the benefit of Employer, by standards the Employer may set at his will.
* The Employee will receive adequate training for the successful completion of their tasks.
* The Employee is responsible for their safety and the Employer cannot be held liable for any injury/death incurred by the tasks at hand.
* The Employee cannot actively harm the Employer, even if their life is in danger.
* The Employee cannot tell another soul-bound creature about this agreement.
* The Employee cannot sign another magically binding contract with any other soul-bound creature.
Pay and Compensation
* The Employee will receive monetary compensation set at double the amount of Imperial Royals required for the medical procedures of the Employee's mother, plus a variable bonus depending on quality of work.*
* Basic Education is considered an asset acquired by the Employee*
* The physical training received is considered an asset acquired by the Employee*
* The magical training received is considered an asset acquired by the Employee*
* Experience received is considered an asset acquired by the Employee*
Contract Type
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* Soulbound; If the Employer or the Employee goes back on the promises held in the contract for any reason, the cost for breaking the terms is an equivalent price being paid from one's soul-body.
*The Employee agrees that even in the event of an unforeseen fatal circumstance, the compensation received up until the point of death will be adequate for the contract to be considered valid.
I can't read it. Rey complained. Should I tell him that or just agree to the contract? Reynold postured a little to try to seem like he was scanning over the document on the table. "Excuse me, but how much gold am I getting for this job exactly?" Nice question, Rey!
"Hmm...well, since the price, approximately, for your mother's treatment using the methodology of the Empire is just shy of a Royal, I'd say ninety-seven pence or so. I don't have the exchange rate or fee memorized for every currency, but you can ask me about the rates for the major ones."
Rey didn't understand the last bit of the sentence but he had to haggle. "The priest told me it was a full Gold Royal per month, which makes it twelve a year. I'll need some of it for one month in advance too."
The man seemed to raise an eyebrow under the mask, but his true feelings couldn't be deciphered. Rey had intuitively learned the pattern of these types of conversations, or, maybe, his room-reading skills were failing him. The figure stood up from his chair and walked around to Reynold, towering over the boy. He eyed him for a few seconds, then the figure released a wave of power.
As if hit by a cresting wave, Rey got knocked back and slid across the carpet. "What makes you think you have any leverage in this discussion, hmm?" The figure asked condescendingly. He had a point.
"I--I just can't read the Empire's language, that's all. I was wondering what exactly the contract said. The only book I can read is the one Mother had." Rey folded immediately and told him everything. A little spineless, but alas, he was working for his self-interest, and he did not wish to die just yet.
"..." The figure didn't speak for a bit. "...repeat.." He mumbled something under his breath.
"Can I still get the jo--"
"You can't read the Empire's language?!" There was genuine shock spelled out on his face, well, there would have been, based on his tone of voice. "Is that why...anyways, we'll add language training to the shortlist of assets in the contract. In the meantime, why don't you try to use this monocle to translate the document to your language of choice. If it works for an agoraphobic dragon, it's bound to work for you."
The man composed himself quickly and took the monocle off his mask(?), handing it to Rey. He gestured to put it on the same way it rested on his eye.
Upon donning the spectacular half-eyepiece, everything became clear to him. Not in the normal "clearing up of fuzziness" that comes with regular eyeglasses. No, Rey could now understand the words on the contract! It felt a little foreign like the words he was reading didn't appear that way in reality, but the meaning was the same. The monocle was a magical artifact. It had to be the most expensive item Rey had seen up until now and was certainly worth more than Userio's wardrobe combined. However, he didn't bother asking to keep it out of fear. Well...desperate times require desperate measures, let's check out the contract.
The inspection didn't take long for it to have a major problem for review. "What's this? Why would there be an issue with telling other 'soul-bound' creatures? What the hell does that mean?" It was a fair point. Rey thought every creature had to have a soul, right? Even the church's priests he overheard said that the soul existed in all of us.
That section seemed a little bit more suspicious, and Rey didn't read any further about the rewards aside from the gold. Well, even checking that much was baby steps for naive Rey. "It just means you can't tell anyone else about the contract." The Patron responded succinctly. "The same goes for me. This agreement will stay between the two of us." His eyes shined in the darkness of the mask.
"I'm sorry, but you can see why that's a little problematic, depending on what you want me to do."
Rey insisted so the Patron asked him to explain himself. "If I can't communicate my overall task with anyone I work with, how will I be expected to do my job properly? Am I going to be working directly with you...sir?" Rey finally remembered to be respectful to the person offering him a job.
"Not with me directly, but my subordinates will be able to respond to you. But I suppose that section will have to be amended." The Patron waved his hand once more and the text on the contract changed. Rey thought it was odd to use the pen to write up the contract if he could magically change the words printed, but he didn't comment.
* Amended: The Employee cannot tell another soul-bound creature not working for the Employer about the agreement.
The man strode back to his seat only to stand behind his chair and face Reynold. Rey wasn't sure what he should be doing at this moment. "Well, sign the contract, child." Ah, signing it. Right. How do you do that?
"Oh, I see. You haven't signed one of these before, I apologize." As if he could read his mind, the Patron's white glove snapped and the desk changed again. Now there was a small inkwell sitting on the side with the words Golden Ichor written. However, there was no writing utensil; No pen, no pencil, nothing. Maybe you dip your finger in there and--no, that's not it.
Surely enjoying Reynold's anxiousness and confusion, the Patron answered after a moment. "Imagine vowing to sign the contract, and your pen shall appear." Imagine...what exactly? Reynold was having a hard time grasping this procedure. "Your soul will deliver the tool to sign the vow. Think of it as a personalized pen just for you. It cannot be given, or traded, but can be lost. It conceptualizes your will."
My will? Rey felt he could somewhat understand what the Patron meant by his words. He imagined agreeing to the contract, expressing his desire, his choice, to adhere to the terms that lay within. Whether or not he understood them all was a different story, but he agreed nonetheless.
A mote of flashing white light flew out of Rey's chest. It floated away from him before changing direction and beelining for his right hand. He brought his arm up to catch it but right before it hit his palm, the light shined so bright that he was forced to close his eyes. He opened them back up only to see a feather floating in the air a few inches from his outstretched hand. An elegant, silvery-metallic feather floated into his grasp, shimmering with a delicate, almost mystical hue. Reynold immediately felt that this was important to him, that this feather was him, in a sense. His desire, his intention, his passion. That feather meant that he willed something with his entire being and that what he was now signing was bound by his will. He can't go back after this.
After a moment of hesitation, Reynold moved. He dipped the quill into the inkwell and lifted it out again, but he stopped. He doesn't know what exactly to write. How does he spell his name? His soul doesn't seem to share his confusion as his hand continues down onto the papyrus. An intricate penmanship began to travel across the page. The graceful, deliberate strokes expressing a single name, his own, ironically appearing when he couldn't consciously control it.
Reynold M. Alwyn
Rey's hand lifted the quill from the paper and promptly dropped it once he gained back control of his hand. The feather slowly swung from side to side traveling downwards, but once it got a few inches from the ground, it completely disappeared. Reynold didn't even acknowledge that strange occurrence when he was preoccupied with another mystery. M?
"Excuse me...err..."
"Patron. You can call me your Patron."
He has a weird naming sense, Rey thought. "Yes, uh, Mr. Patron. Why do I have a middle name?" To his knowledge, he had never had a middle name. His mother had always said "Reynold Alwyn," even if she was furious and for some reason called him by his full name.
"What is your mother's name?" the Patron inquired.
"Marie." He had heard a few of his neighbors call his mother by name when they passed their home. She had tried to answer any visitors when she was in good shape, but most of the time she was too weak and had to remain on her bed. And the not-so-friendly visitors. Well, he made sure that they didn't get close to his mother, though he gained quite a few bruises from the altercations.
"Then it must have been your mother's initial marked on the contract as part of your name. With a person's guardians, that sometimes happens. Now then, the agreement is final. Good." The Patron nodded his head and snapped his fingers.
The world shifted as all the books, papers, pens, and ink disappeared from atop his desk. The Patron now appeared to be sitting behind his desk again, and Rey was now seated upon a red-cushioned chair that wasn't there previously. The Patron, not minding Rey's confusion, continued.
"Our schedule is tight, with deadlines coming up within a few months. You turn sixteen years of age quite soon. As you have not been educated in the slightest, you are considered to be immensely behind the children of the Empire. There is quite a lot of work to be done." Reynold began to protest but the Patron just put a hand up to silence him. He snapped his fingers and a large gold coin with one side inlaid with the Imperial brand landed with a clink on the table.
"You can take your advance payment for this month, and I will send transportation to pick you up from your residency. I will arrange for you to live near the training grounds, but rest assured that you are permitted to visit your mother on your days off. Thirteen days a fortnight you will be training, with the last Sunday off for visiting reasons. However, when you begin your active task, you may not have that luxury."
The last part of that sentence was alarming, but he had already signed the contract. There was nothing he could do at this point.
"Be ready to start your training tomorrow when I send a carriage to pick you up." The Patron leaned forward on the table and rested his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together and declaring:
"Your task is to be my source of information in the Capital of the Empire. My inside man, if you will."