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“The history of our world is filled with struggle. From the long forgotten legends to the more recent peasant uprising. Many historians agree that our world is a secondary place, that we originally came from somewhere else. One of the reasons this theory is so widely believed is due to the common agreement between many of the different worldly nations’ myths. Whether we come from another planet or from across the sea is still up for debate but one thing is certain, all the races of the world were once apart, and in a time even before the mythical era all races came together to call this world their home. What fate befell our old worlds is something we can only wonder, so much time has passed that there might not even be any traces left of our past.”
“There is however an alternative theory which has been gaining greater support over the years, it is called: The Genesis Theory. It states that all races were created by a supernatural event. Recent developments in technology have allowed us to come closer than ever before to answering these questions that has been plaguing every sentient since the dawn of time: Who are we? What is our purpose?”
“Good, good. Another excellent speech from our class’ star pupil misses Clara Harcourt! Now class if you will turn to page 70 of your world history notebook we will start going over the implications of the clash in theories between the religions and the scientific caucus.”
Clara stepped away from the stage and took her seat. Her sharp eyes staring out at nowhere as the class went over the things she’s long since fully learned. Her father was a firm believer in the old ways and he’d spent a fortune hiring instructors to teach her these things while she’d still been a toddler.
Thinking of this Clara couldn’t help but sigh.
She looked over the rest of the class, the elite. They all seemed to be paying attention to the lecture the instructor was giving.
Although her father was a believer in the old ways he could also see the use of sending his daughter to school. One of the most important but often overlooked parts since the Meritocracy has taken over the Southern Isles, connections. Although she observed the class with a seemingly withdrawn gaze she was actually paying great attention to her surroundings.
This was so that she could find and hopefully recruit talent to her side before any of the other factions made their move. If it concerned knowledge she was leagues ahead of her peers, the only people better than her would be those who’d already spent years in the field. Clara had also already decided in which fields she wanted to study: Biology and Alchemy.
Using her knowledge she hopes to advance the power of the Meritocracy’s soldiers and hopefully protect her family’s interests. And although the meritocracy has a thousand year history, this has only been possible due to the central management of wealth and knowledge called: The Overseer.
Unfortunately the Overseer has been showing signs of instability since a while ago, and the council has still not come to an agreement concerning what to do about it. If the situation continues the council might have no other choice but to deploy a new overseer.
This might be well but due to the great amount of power the Overseer has over every faction of their society this would also be an ideal time for external and internal threats to their nation.
She knew for a fact that the Maribara sect has long desired to horde their knowledge for themselves. They were also actively hostile to her Harcourt clan, one of the great founding families within the Meritocracy.
Although the instructors lesson might have been old news to her it was something unheard of to most of the students around her. This was to be expected. Most of the students within the elite class were from peasant families. Their parents were perhaps labourers and their ancestors might have aspired to be nothing more than their local district manager.
But to become a part of the elite required something unrelated to upbringing. It required determination, a desire to succeed, and a willingness to put in the effort needed to attain greatness. The Meritocracy ensures that all of its citizens, no matter their origin, are given the same starting conditions, and the only way to achieve greatness is through effort.
Although the class was a two hour session, the rest of the students hung unto every word spoken by the lecturer throughout. Clara meanwhile, spent the time studying the other students and planning out the rest of her week.
Time passed, eventually class ended and it was time for recess.
Just as she was about to leave the instructor called her, “Misses Clara Harcourt, report to the principal’s office.”
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The principal was an old, white haired and wise man. Despite his age he had not even a hint of baldness which was something strange and might have something to do with the fact that he’d also taken biochemistry and nanorobotics as his main fields of study.
Although the Meritocracy encourages the sharing of knowledge, it is not a requirement to do so. Many secrets still remain within the founding clans and only the more common knowledge had been made available to the public.
Even so, the Southern Isles most common knowledge was still enough to overwhelm a lesser nation.
“Miss Clara, it’s good to see you. Please, have a seat.” He said as he gestured across the desk to the chair opposite him.
Leaning forward he took a breath, placed the tips of his fingers together and started speaking. “Now, the teachers have been telling me that you seem unenthused by the classes you’ve been taking. Do you have anything you’d like to tell me?”
“Nothing, Principal. Classes have been going well, I’ve learned a lot since I’ve come here and my test scores have been quite good. My father sang high praises of the academy, and I can see why.”
“Yes, that you have. But have you learned anything we were teaching? We know you Miss Clara, or at least we know your family. Followers of the old ways, nobility, born with a silver spoon, but following a strict regime to maintain your clan’s so called obligation. What are your thoughts on this? Don’t you feel that the academy is a little lacking for someone such as yourself?”
Clara clenched her fists. What the principal was saying was true, and doubly so for her, someone who was a prodigy even in a family consisting of only prodigies. But she could not allow herself to be kicked out of the school or pushed up a grade. Such things might be what the poorer of the populous aspire to, but that wasn’t very enticing for her, since she already could fulfil any of her worldly desire if she wants. Advancing her grade early would mean that she’d keep advancing until she graduates much too early for her age group. It would also leave her a social outcast amongst her peers, something she would never allow to happen.
“No, although school has not been as challenging as the average person might expect, I’ve nonetheless found supplementary ways in which to spend my time. I know what the protocol is for my situation, and I implore you to not advance my grade lest it influence my mental and emotional growth.”
The principal raised an eyebrow. “Interesting, so you’ve already read the protocol. And you seem to be worried that you may miss out in your growth from childhood to adulthood in a safe and sane manner. Have you by chance read the thesis from Farloy and Jenis, conserning the social animus, and the influence on the individual?”
Clara nodded, “When I learned I was to apply for this academy I looked up the public works for this field. It was, enlightening, to say the least.”
The principal smirked and leaned back. “Well then tell me Clara, why do you think staying behind would be best for you. Have you ever tried other means of growth?”
“It’s not that I did not look for alternatives, but that this would be the only one I can practice in my situation.”
“Do you think the academy is the end? Clara, this school is only just the beginning. If you thought that the centre of knowledge, the great Meritocracy of the Southern Isles was only this bit, then it’s time you learn what the real world is like.”
He stood and looked at her, his gaze, although friendly a moment ago, now seemed ancient and unfeeling. “Follow me, you’ve got a long way to go before you reach the limits of your potential.”
He stepped around his desk and walked out of his office. Clara stood and followed, the strange situation catching her completely off guard.
“Do you know what happens to orphans?”
“Ever since the blood tide we’ve raised and watched over them, ensuring the next generation of loyal citizenry.”
“Yes, and do you know the test which every orphan has gone through?”
“The aptitude test.” She said with a grimace. The very thought of a simple multiple choice questionnaire determining your future appalled her. But it was a regular occurrence within the orphanages where the number of caretakers was much too small in relation to the number of children they were looking after. The questions were a way for the system to determine the child’s future path. Although the answers could be falsified it still required the child to know and understand which careers were available to them, something most orphans have no idea about. It also required lying to the questionnaire, something which didn’t sit well with her.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Yes, a child’s past taken on the death of their parents, and their future taken by a simple questionnaire. It doesn’t seem to fit with the nature of the Meritocracy, but then again, freedom of choice does not always lead to good results.”
“But at least the mistakes you make will be your own.”
“True, but orphans cannot afford any mistakes. And the Meritocracy does not tolerate criminality.”
Is he insinuating that the system is in place as a measure against poverty? It would explain a lot, but it would lead to another question. Who instated this measure? Father has never spoken of this with me.
They walked a moment before they came to the academy’s auditorium. The principal stood in front of the stage and mumbled something. A ringing noise answered, signalling that the Overseer has heard him.
“As someone from a ruling family I am sure that you have heard of the instability the Overseer has been showing recently.”
“Yes.”
“Well, the instability is a lie, a well-placed one meant to mislead any person who would see our nation come to harm.” He was quiet for a moment before mumbling, “from inside or not.”
“The instability is not a sign of a failing system; neither has the overseer reached a limit to its capabilities. It is something the founding clans knew of but decided to keep hidden, even from their own descendants. The system is about to reach maturity.”
“What do you mean?”
The principal turned to her, his eyes now looking through her.
“Within two hundred hours from now the task which has been entrusted to the system on its founding will finally start. Long we have remained cloistered within the safety of the isles, only defending and never retaliating. The time for setting the war machine in motion has come.”
“War? What do you mean?”
“Let me explain.” He said and waved his arm over the stage. A projection, a three dimensional image appeared on the stage.
Clara has never seen anything like it; it was a scenery of beauty: untouched lands, peaceful animals, swaying grass and falling leaves.
“This is a place where the founders came from, even in those days they had ways in which to capture moments. Though it took a great deal of effort, the founders thought of this place as important enough to remember and keep. I’m sure you can agree.”
Clara nodded, there was something in the image that made her heart yearn to walk among that swaying field of grass. She could not help but agree that the scene was something which even the descendants of the founders would yearn for and want to cherish.
“What happened later…That was also recorded. In those days the founders were not as you know them today, they were part of a circle of mages,” This was shocking news, something she was completely unprepared for. None of the founding families had even a hint of magic in their ancient blood. The Meritocracy also doesn’t prop up mages as much as the other nations, although they could use magic and understood it, it was all still in an external manner, such as through alchemy, or the creation of artefacts that can channel the world’s energy.
“They were mages, but they were also unlike any of the mages of present. They wanted more than what their magic was willing to provide them, they’d reached a great enough understanding to realise that mage craft, at least in the way it was used at the time, was limited by the very source from which their power originated.”
“So they set about studying other fields. One’s which had been abandoned due to their incessant focus on magic.”
The principal waved his hand once again, the scene changed, this time it showed an academy quite similar to this one built within that scenic field of grass. Although the academy was built in the field it was clear that great pains had been taken to insure that the beauty and brilliance of nature remained.
People were talking, a man was leading a group of people as they stood on a small hill in front, the words he spoke sounded slightly older than their own modern language but they were still understandable.
It took a moment for her to realise what they were saying, something she was familiar with actually, they were taking a photo.
The leader waved over at her, “Harcourt, what are you waiting for? Come over here.”
“Coming!”
From their side a bright blonde woman ran over to the leader, kissed the man on the cheek before grabbing him by the shoulder and smiling at the camera.
A man stood to the side, he was from a race of humanoids with lizard like skin, floppy ears, and frog like eyes. “Is it on? Harcourt, did you remember to put it on?” He hunched over as he spoke at the girl. She smiled at him, and laughed, “It’s on record, Maribara. Don’t worry about it.”
The floppy ears sprang into the air as the man shouted, “What! So you mean to tell me that it’s recording this very conversation? What will I do if the world remembers me as some kind of insecure knave? What about my eternal fame?”
The girl named Harcourt only laughed at this, “No matter how you act you will always be remembered, we are the first explorers of a new era, we shall go where none have gone before. We have solved the greatest mystery of all time! This is something people shall remember for all eternity!”
The principal then mumbled, “But it wasn’t remembered, it was something meant to be forgotten.”
A great meteor was falling from the sky, even Clara, someone wholly untouched by any study of astrology knew that this was something more than just a simple space rock. There was something otherworldly about it. Something, which was not of this world.
The meteor was a silvery liquid, it struck the academy in the distance causing a shockwave which upended the ground and the fields of grass, blew over the trees and smashed the creatures into mulch as the shockwave slammed against their bodies.
Dust overtook the projection. For a moment everything was brown and black. Eventually after a moment which felt like an eternity the dust passed, revealing the group still standing, another man with his arms stretched towards the sky and a force field surrounding them.
After seeing the dust settle the man fell to his knees, a catkin girl rushing over to him. The man looked over at the leader, his eyes were red, and there were horns growing backward from his temples. “What was that?”
The leader was what appeared to be an ordinary human, he was young, had brown eyes and brown hair. “I don’t know, but this isn’t natural.”
“How right he was.”
The crater caused by the meteor shook, then the sky in the distance, the scattered clouds the calm blue, seemed to shatter.
A thunderous roar came from the distance.
The leaders’ head jerked up to the sky. “They dare!” he shouted.
“What is it?” A woman with glasses shouted.
“The gods! Those bastards broke the pact, now they’ve sent their dogs to come clean us up!” The leader turned to the bright blonde woman, “Harcourt, you know what to do.”
She nodded as he stepped back. Energy gathered around him and his feet started lifting off the ground, soon he was floating above the ground.
The man looked over the rest of the group. “Good luck.” He said then turned around and flew to the crack in the sky.
“Damn it, Van, come back here!” A buff man shouted out.
The bright blonde woman, now a bit paler, regarded the team. “We need to leave.”
“You knew this was going to happen?” A small man scowled at her.
She closed her eyes and shook her head, “No, but I do know what I have to do. Whether Vanrhil makes it out or not we need to keep on going, we need to survive, and need to fight back.” She opened her eyes; her eyes were totally white, not a hint of colour or black to be seen.
The group was silent; they weren’t moving and only staring at her in resignation.
She grit her teeth then screamed at them, “Have you forgotten your oath!”
This seemed to have woken the group, life, or a close approximation returned to their eyes as they started moving.
Harcourt turned to look out of the stage, straight at Clara, she raised her hand and the scene instantly disappeared. Leaving nothing, only the former empty stage in its place.
The principal shook his head and looked over at Clara who was still sweating from the heart stopping moment.
“I’m sure you’ve realized by now that the history you think you knew wasn’t the whole truth. Although the bit about us coming here to find a place to create a centre of knowledge was the truth, the part left out was that we were hiding. The mainland was filled with gods, none of the founders could stand up against them. Not alone and not together. So they came here, biding their time working themselves to the bone to make something. Something which can see their heart’s desire fulfilled. For their oath, and for the man they all admired.”
“What happened to him?”
“They say he died.” Seeing her frown the principal took a moment to clarify. “Many of the founders were also sceptical about this, had it not been for the knowledge they received later they would still continue searching for him.”
“What do you mean?”
“The founders were the most powerful people to have ever lived. Their very existence gave the gods purchase in the land, and although they might be able to prolong their lives their descendants would not be able to survive. So they took a risk. They decided to forgo all their powers in favour of cultivating a talent which can transcend the limits of magic, step into godhood and go even beyond.”
He hesitated for a moment, and frowned as he turned away to look at the stage. “I am a part of this plan.”
She frowned but remained silent. It wasn’t too long before the principal started to speak again.
“The Overseer, you’ve probably spent many days going over the papers to learn more of it. The knowledge you found was lacking wasn’t it? The Overseer is a thing of magic and technology, an artificial intelligence with a synthetic soul, the management of our whole societies’ wealth under the watch of one being. You’ve probably spent a moment to think of the complexities involved in its making. But there is something I think you’ve overlooked. The reason. A question I know you ask much too little. The reason for the Overseer’s existence is to create a god.”
To fight a god, create a god.
The principal started glowing, he sighed. “It’s starting, within two hundred hours I will awaken, I’ve made peace with my fate, I’ve even come to accept it. I look forward to seeing what you become.”
The principals' figure lit up and started breaking up into small squares that rose and moved through the roof. Clara knew where they were heading. They were going toward the Central Control where the Overseer was housed.
Clara stepped back and looked over the auditorium. The place was empty, there was nothing to remind her of the events that just took place but she knew they were just as real.
She walked out of the auditorium, and left the academy grounds, from the distance it looked just like that place in the projection.
She took a coach to the nearest station and boarded a waiting train. A few minutes passed before the train started to move. Looking at the green scenery of the Southern Isles she sat back and closed her eyes.
She was on her way home.