The day was sunny as Isaac lay in the pok-ball field, groaning into the sand. He never thought he could lose at pok-ball. After all, he took the ferry thrice a week to play with the Pirthside University team, and he was better than good.

But then again, Zach was a meticulous planner, and Sophia the evil hand of his villanous exploits. Pok-ball was supposed to be played as a 3-team free-for-all, with the goal being to slap a ball into one of the opposing goals without letting it touch your body. Instead, every player used a rectangular bat of varying length, which tapered towards the edges like a dull wooden sword without a tip. Supposedly the sport originated from a time when the Immortal Empire was in a state of constant war with itself, and the smaller kingdoms that had come before it.

It felt less violent than the annual longbow games, but then again, the pok-ball was a suspiciously head sized target, and the game did encourage full body contact.

Sophia was lying right next to him, moaning and groaning just as much.

“Serves you right,” Isaac muttered. “For jumping me like that.”

“He played us both,” Sophia mumbled. “I just wanted to wiiin…”

Zach cackled like a saturday morning cartoon villain before jotting down the final score in his notebook. “All is fair in pok-ball and war.”

He’d snuck so many curveballs into both their nets while they weren’t looking. And there was no way either of them were going to let that stand.

Zach didn’t notice the other two getting up and sneaking up on him until Isaac grabbed his shoulders to hold him down and Sophia emptied a water bottle all over his head.

“Gah! How is that so damn cold?” he cried, spouting and coughing. “Sophia, desert for loyalty.”

Sophia turned around and immediately doused Isaac as well, and dang that water was like an icepick to the forehead.

“Sophia! Why!?” She had to know that she could never win this fight. He shot up, wrapped her in a chokehold, and pressed his icy bottle to her cheek.

“I give! I give!”

“You sorry?”

“Yes!”

“Hmm, I find myself uncertain on matters of trust. Butter me up.”

“You’re the best big brother. I love that you keep on tossing your boxers into our wardrobe. There’s nothing more I want than the smell of cheap deodorant all over my stuff, all the time, twenty four seven."

Isaac hummed. She couldn’t be trusted, Isaac had to make sure she meant it. He unscrewed the lid of another water bottle and after she looked thoroughly drenched and her hair was an ugly brown mop, she finally showed her true colors.

“Asshole.”

Isaac blew her a raspberry and she blew one back.

They lay in the sand and let the sun bake them dry. Isaac rubbed the tattoo on his left shoulder, a ring of fish, birds, lemons, and so many things only Zach knew how to properly interpret. To Isaac, all it needed to symbolize was their undying connection. When he was fifteen, they had all gotten the same one together on a trip to Pirth and while Claire had been ecstatic on their return, Hammond had been anything but.

There was a worry that they were becoming too much like Claire, like Merfolk, and that when they eventually did travel out into society, they wouldn’t be able to relate to the ‘normal’ human experience, whatever that meant.

It was ridiculous, in Isaac’s opinion. No one was normal. Everyone had their own idiosyncrasies.

Either way, when he’d demanded they stop sleeping in the same bed, they fought against it. In the end, both sides had to compromise, and they’d ended up with three beds in one room divided by a curtain down the middle, for privacy’s sake. He could still hear Zach reading books and Sophia’s quiet snoring, so all was right in the world.

“What’s the situation on the Hammond-Claire ship?” Isaac asked absentmindedly.

“While we don’t have any concrete proof, there are signs,” Zach said with the wisdom of having lived almost an entire year longer than Isaac.

“We found socks!” Sophia added.

“No, where?”

“All over. That has to be a sign. They are totally not just platonic friends. They are shmoozin.”

“No freaking way.” Isaac didn’t believe that one second. Talking to Hammond when he didn't want to be talked to was like talking to a brick wall, and Claire? She always wanted to talk with everyone, all the time, and she was so touchy and huggy.

“They have chemistry,” Sophia said.

“I don’t see it.”

“Then you’re blind.”

“And your eyes are full of wishful thinking.”

“If you two are about ready,” Zach said as he wrung out his shirt. “It’s about time we head back.”

His stomach clenched. “Already?”

“It’s past noon. We’ve given the proctors plenty of time to set up.” Zach was looking out into the distance, as if he could see them past the forest of trees.

He’s nervous.

On Wett, and most of the rest of the empire, it was customary to have everyone lifted up to the first Tier at age 18, or whatever counted as being of-age for your relevant species. It was done in tandem with testing a person’s boon and bane, as well as getting your official ID.

They were all getting tested together, they’d demanded as much, which meant Zach was discovering his boon and bane a year later than most. Everyone without a strong bloodline that guaranteed the theme of their boon and bane had reason to worry, but he acted like he had a bit more than most.

“C’mon, no need to worry. We're all doing it together.” As that didn’t cheer Zach up enough, Isaac took him in a headlock and ruffled his hair. “A pod stays togethaaa!”

After a minute of throwing each other around on the improvised pok-field, it was time to go.

“So,” Sophia said as they started leisurely walking back, wringing her hair out and whipping it at Isaac for revenge. “We’re getting our Tier 1 infusion today for free. Boons and banes, huh? This is the day we find out if we’ll ever explode the moment we tier up.”

Zach snorted. “I’d rather not find out I’m an invalid after eighteen years of normal life.”

“Big plans?”

“Maybe. I don’t want to stay on Wett forever, and I don’t plan to reach Tier 4 after sixty years. For me, it’s all the way to the top, and whether I go into delving, adventuring, or stock trading for the essence, I’ll do it. Maybe I’ll go into politics, let the taxpayer pay for my interplanetary taxis. How’s that for a plan?”

The thought was a mixed bag. Isaac for one had spent half his childhood on Seagull Island, explored every crack and crevice, every ruin and every bird’s nest. He still hadn’t found a single seagull, but there were signs, bones mostly. It led to rumors and theories, the kind that got wilder and wilder whenever they told each other about them, from abduction to avian wars to an aerial assault involving no less than three immortals.

That sense of wonder had faded over time, replaced by a sense of belonging. Isaac could journey the stars, rather, he would certainly like to. But that would mean leaving this slice of home behind.

It was, as said, a difficult idea to ponder. Not for Sophia though.

“Hah, sounds terrible.” She climbed on a box of bats and balls, lending herself a majestic foot and a half. “I am going to go to Pirthside university, study geology and biology, then specialize in water habitats to become a civil servant. I will be paid well for doing very little, I’ll climb the ranks through my unique skill called ‘getting older’, and when I retire, the state will have to sponsor whatever crazy shit I decide to do through my fat pension. It's a clear and cozy time from start to finish, baby.”

“That’s a plan,” Isaac said. Two pairs of eyes fell on him. “What? My plan isn’t that interesting. It’s neither far-reaching, nor well thought-out.”

“But you did think about it? At least a little bit?” Sophia asked, feigning concern. Probably.

For all he knew, it could have been real concern. Where Zach planned the mischief, and Isaac acted as his fell hand, Sophia could be counted on to either narc on them the moment she caught wind of it, or to help them bury a body.

“Well, if my scholarship for the University Pok-ball team doesn’t happen, then I’ll look for some craft. Something I can put my hands to work with.” Something close to home. “Maybe some smithing or enchant-work. Something that puts a smile on people’s faces, or keeps them safe.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Like making custom-made armors for delvers and adventurers?”

“It’s important stuff.” Isaac nodded. “Claire would be so disappointed if you turned out to be one of my customers.”

That earned a round of nods.

They made their way back to the beach, Hammond had bulldozed most of the old crusty ruins. Some even had new ones standing on their foundations. It turned out that an island like this was perfect for the moderately well-endowed to take a quick day trip or a week’s vacation, as there were no reeking fishing trailers, oil spills, or the mistrust cultivated through poverty burning in the eyes of local denizens. It was just an idyllic island, ideal to let your kids run around and have some fun. That was how it must have looked to the outside.

But even though Claire had rented out a plot for the skill-shop, outright sold three for vacation homes, and had another deal going on for a restaurant slash motel that was currently being constructed on the beachside, money flowed out of her coffers more than it did the other way. Isaac liked to think that their help took some weight off her shoulders, but the biggest help would be if they moved out, got a job, and donated a couple hundred guppies a month straight back to her.

At least, that was how it should be. It wouldn’t feel right not paying her back for everything, especially considering she still hadn’t allowed them to cultivate the natural essence in the air. She had something planned for them, and that something was going to be expensive.

“Enchanting, huh?” Zach said with a smirk. “Lucrative. I could maybe see it. But I never took you to be so, so… reasonable.”

“Reasonable is good.”

“It’s boring is what it is. Dream a bit for us, come on.”

Isaac threw his hands in the air. “I can never win. Fine, I’ll become a professional Pok-ball player and travel the world.”

“That’s more like it. Dream big.”

“He likes the competition ‘cause he’s taller than everyone,” Sophia stage-whispered to Zach.

“The voice of a sore loser.” Isaac blew a raspberry in her general direction. “I bet I could do great. I’ll become so good that I can personally bankroll Zach’s spaceflight expenses. There’s a blimp out there with my name on it, just waiting to plaster my ads for soda-pop and energy drinks on its side.”

“Bigger!”

“I’ll… tour planets and shake hands with the emperor?” He hoped Zach didn’t ask for an even bigger dream. At this rate, he’d have to become emperor and mandate pok-ball games on every Saturday, which was only mildly more unbelievable than his previous idea.

Zach seemed pleased. “That fits you much better than scratching lines into soon-to-be-abused swords and shields.”

“I don’t think pok-ball is played much outside of Wett. Now come on, we’ve stalled for long enough.” Sophia, whose hair was now in a low ponytail, nodded at the white canvas of a tent. “Lo, death approaches.”

“Don’t joke about that, please,” said Zach as he rubbed his face. “Your boon or bane could literally make or break everything. It’s the one bit of magic everyone has, the one bit no one can escape forever. Now is the one time I don’t want to be jinxed.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Sophia looked away. She was redoing her hair over and over again. “And chill, nobody’s getting an F for failure today.”

“Please, just stop.”

“Or an F for flawed,” Isaac muttered. “F for… fatal?”

She was just as nervous as everyone else.

“I defer to the ancient rule of not-it,” he said, putting a finger to his nose. Zach was faster than Sophia, and so with a mock bow Isaac gestured towards the tent. “You’ve just volunteered to go first, milady.”

With an eye roll, Sophia disappeared between the white flaps. Both Isaac and Zach were staring at her wake, as if the tent had swallowed her whole. The silence was so solid you could roll it up and beat someone to death with it.

“Isaac, do you believe in fate?”

Isaac blinked, “What, like oracles reading cards, or siblings separated at birth meeting under completely random circumstances?”

“I mean, like, the moment you are born, you are… ordained is the word? You are ordained to walk a certain path. You can deviate, but the path will always pull you back into its orbit, like you’re leashed to it.”

Isaac paused. He felt the need to acknowledge some of the hemmed-in feeling Zach was giving off, but he didn’t know how without either insulting his intelligence or telling an outright lie. After waiting for long enough, he settled for a middle path.

“Life is give and take, and the genetic component to what boon and bane you get is just that, a component, one among many. I think it doesn’t matter what your path is, since you’ll only see it when you’re done walking and you look back. Life isn’t set in stone, so if life takes a fat dump on your head, you’re morally obligated to give it the same shit back. Counter, swing, one-two.”

“This isn’t a backalley brawl, Isaac.” Zach grumbled “We literally had a caste system not two hundred years ago. You could substitute one place — one fate — for another, but heaven help you if your bane was too bad, or your boon was too good.”

Isaac didn’t think that with ‘we’, Zach had meant the planet of Wett. Zach still had attachments to the world he’d come from. Isaac didn’t even know the name of his, just that it was one dirtball among ten thousand floating between the stars. He would like to swap with someone from there, just to see what his life could have been for a while, but never forever.

Wett was home, after all. Besides, he didn’t think most people from higher tier worlds would enjoy a stay on the idyllic seagull-less beach of Seagull Island.

“I mean, if you find a prince who wants to be an orphan, you could try and swap.” He said it with a grin.

“A prince,” Zach sighed. “That would definitely fix all my problems. Uh-huh.”

The tent-flaps flapped open. Sophia left towards them, then swerved slightly right, where Claire was standing. He hadn’t noticed her arrival at all. She was just standing there, deep blue eyes searching for and finding the first of three potential potentates, as the Merfolk called those who were about to have their life upended.

Sophia had her good-girl face on, but even through that her awkwardness was palpable. He’d have to ask what she got later. It didn’t seem detrimental at least, not even conventional. It had to be a B, or maybe a low and situational A.

“You want me to go first or—”

“No,” Zach said and breathed out heavily. “I’m still the oldest.”

“Break a leg!” Isaac yelled, then added after a moment. “Not literally!”

And then he was gone behind the curtain of white too.

The wait dragged on. Sophia was still talking to Claire.

After looking around and making sure no one was focusing on him at the moment, Isaac sighed and let a bit of his own nervousness show. He picked up a few fallen leaves and began tearing them apart in such a way that the veins were mostly still intact. It was a small tick that kept his hands occupied and calmed his nerves. He’d tried to fold them into origami once, but doing anything productive with fallen leaves was difficult, and he had to be content that he was likely just doing the job of a few dozen ants in seconds.

He felt a bit like an ant then. An ant that could grow large into an antlion. Or a smaller, slightly less important ant.

He stared up at the sky. Through the blue sky, Pollux, the first and closest of the three moons, was like an imprint left on a page. Behind that were five other uninhabited planets in the Wett system, which was part of a larger constellation that itself barely counted as a fringe-region of the local duchy.

“The universe sure is large,” he muttered. “Maybe I will become a pok-ball champion.”

The initial review at Pirthside University’s Pok-ball junior league had been positive. A scholarship was well within reach.

The tent flaps opened. He got up, noticing that his pants were covered in crumbs of dead leaves.

Oh, I’m nervous too. Cutting them didn’t help at all. Sorry, leaves. Time to go.

The inside of the tent was cool. Isaac looked around, but couldn’t see any ventilator, or cables running off the local diesel generator. There was a table made of thin plastic and metal, and a couple of papers that once must have been neatly stacked but were now slightly in disarray.

On the table was also a black box. Isaac stared at it as he sat himself down on the proffered chair. Nobody else was present, though he knew there had to be someone on the island who had built this up. Maybe they were on break and forgot to hang out a sign.

“NAME, SURNAME” the box suddenly blurted. “YOU ARE BEING RECORDED. IF YOU DO NOT CONSENT, LEAVE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY. TAMPERING WITH EMPIRE DEVICES WILL BE MET WITH LEGAL CONSEQUENCES.”

“Uh, right. I didn’t touch anything.”

“UH-RAIT. IDIDNTOUCHANYTHING. CONFIRM NAME?”

Isaac spluttered. “No! Abort, deny, deny!”

The box in front of him whirred and hummed. “...A CRITICAL ERROR HAS OCCURRED. PLEASE DISCONNECT AND RECONNECT YOUR LAUSH-INC-FARSPEAKER…”

He groaned. This thing must have worked for Zach and Sophia, why break now? “I can’t talk to a person, by any chance?”

The box stopped talking. After a moment, it crackled, and a male, human voice crackled on through. “This is your support hotline, I’m Morgan, how can we help?”

Thank Maerdon.

“Hi. I’m Isaac. I’m supposed to get my boon and bane tested today, but your box is…”

“Not working?” There was a muffled snort. “Happens all the time. Not your fault though, we just get the hand-me-downs of the hand-me-downs here on Wett. Ten generations behind and counting! Anyways, just take one of those slips and fill out the necessary information.”

“Oh.” That was simple. “Why even use these boxes then?”

“They’re instant transmission and auto-transcribing. They’re still in their testing phase, but I guess people are hoping they’ll reduce workload and paperwork. How many kids do you think chose today to get their big reveal?”

A lot, probably.

He filled out the paperwork diligently, leaving his name for last. Claire had told him his original last name a few years back, but he didn’t use it often, out of respect for her. Spending years with her didn’t make him more of a ‘Rhileigh than a Tuttle, but he liked to think of her as his second mother.

“Isaac Calico, huh?” the voice said with a legal minimum of interest. “Alright. Next step, put your hand on the doodad over there, and once we’re done, you get to take a little treat with you.”

A treat? What am I, a deer?

“This one?” The device looked like a sort of microscope with a wide base and too many lenses. It beamed red, there was a crack and a sting. Isaac jerked his hand back. “OW!”

“Careful it stings. Ah, dang delay. Anyhow, the microscopic mana crystal and bit of essence should dissolve into your blood—”

“Mana crystal?” There was a small welt forming on the back of his hand, like an angry wasp sting. “You shot me with a mana crystal!”

“Hey, some places still use actual needles, y’know. I recommend cultivating the pure essence we’ve infused with your blood for the rest of the day, that way you’ll hit Tier 1 by the end of it. You do know how to cultivate, right?”

“Yes, I’m not that ignorant.” If anything, he was better at swirling essence through his body than most people that were his age and still baseline.

“Great. Now, your results are in, let me just…” there was the sound of a keyboard clacking, stopping, then clacking more carefully. “Oh no. Shit, I mean… actually, this is being recorded, so screw that. Sorry man, but the results don’t look too swell.”

A small piece of pink paper came out of a slit on the box. Isaac read it, and the more he did, the more he felt like drifting away from himself, like this was happening to someone else.

[Your potential has been logged. All have their place beneath the guidance of the home-of-homes.]

Boon: Increased mana-efficiency of multi-target and area skills

Bane: All skills target yourself

Determined potential: D+ / detrimental

[If you wish to object to your ranking, file a claim with your local council.]

[The Immortal Empire serves and protects.]