The first morning of Meredith’s Initiation could best be described as complete and utter pandemonium.

The first to wake up was Julius, as it was his shrieking that seized the rest of the Apprentices by their ears, and hefted them, none too gently, out of the languor of dreams.

“There’s something on me! There’s something on me!” He was shouting.

Without thinking, without considering the consequences or the reasons, still half asleep, Meredith slipped out of her bed and ran over to the boy to see what was on him, see if she could help.

Her dream was still reeling in her head like an old movie, once watched long ago, the scenes coming in flashes of memory.

“There’s something on me, something on my chest!” The boy was clawing at his bare skin. He had ripped off his shirt upon waking up when he noticed that there was some dark shape underneath it.

“It looks like,” Meredith rubbed her bleary eyes clear, “It looks like a tattoo.” She said.

Meredith was right. A black mark spread, tendrils curving, over the boy's chest. Julius and Meredith examined it, the boy bending his neck at an awkward angle to see.

He had calmed down now, realizing the thing on his chest was a part of his skin, not some alien creature intent on burrowing itself inside his skin to live there, and lay eggs.

“How could I have gotten a tattoo? I mean, that’s something I would remember. I just woke up like this, like it’s always been here.” Julius asked, but no one answered. Even Mistress Addlebern was silent. Perhaps she did not know the cause of Julius's strange marks either?

Edward Haoulle was up now, and as he placed his glasses on the bridge of his long nose, he noticed something too.

“Hey, she’s got one!” He proclaimed, pointing at Meredith, “On her leg!”

Meredith whirled around, looking for the offending mark. Edward’s point and loud exclamation made her heart hammer. It reminded her, on an instinctual level, of being singled out and laughed at.

But Edward was innocently pointing out that Meredith did have a new mark, which ran down the side of her calf, knee to ankle.

On her ankle, the black line divided into five segments.

“It looks like a trident, I think, or some kind of fork…” Julius said, examining Meredith’s leg.

“No,” Meredith said, remembering her dream from last night, “It’s a Pitchfork.”

“Pitchfork,” Julius said, then bent his head again to examine his chest, “that must mean…”

And they all saw it now. The black tendrils, curving from a shaded point over Julius's heart, were the arms of an Octopus.

“My Sign! Julius went from frightened to elated, all very quickly.

“Mine’s here!” Edward said, and showed them all his left palm. A flower was there. A Water Lily.

They looked to Mistress, and she silently held up her arms to show them two long lines along each forearm, running from her elbow to her palm, the ends terminating in-

“Arrow!” Julius pronounced. “Knew you’d get it!” He said, winking at Mistress. The girl crossed her arms, making an ‘X’ with her Arrows.

“Solomon mate, what about you?” Edward asked.

They all looked to see where the odd boy, who had warned them last night about his nightmares, lay in his corner cot.

And that’s when they realized that Solomon was nowhere to be seen, and a perfect stranger was in his bed, lazily sitting, yawning, and rubbing at their eyes. The pandemonium swiftly returned.

----------------------------------------

Meredith’s dream the night before had been a nightmare. Sort of.

The dream might have been pleasant for another girl, but for Meredith, a swanky ballroom soiree was the seventh layer of hell. And that’s exactly where she found herself after falling asleep, her bloodstream full of the inky dark liquid which Master Reymous had given all the Apprentices.

Looking left to right, the ballroom seemed to stretch to infinity. The two parallel, visible walls were obscured with mirrors that gave the room a kaleidoscopic and hallucinatory feeling one might find in a funhouse if one were to ingest too much of the good stuff before entry.

A giant chandelier shimmered overhead, reminding one of celestial starscapes, and cosmic gaseous anomalies.

Ask someone to a dance.

The words appeared in front of Meredith and then faded.

She might as well have been tasked with straining water from a stone, or gathering pebbles on a cloud. She could barely talk to strangers, much less ask a perfect stranger to dance with her.

She looked around. There were hundreds of people milling about, but they did not appear to be fully there. Their outlines were hazy and indistinct, and their color was faded like Meredith was seeing them through a heavy sheet of rain.

Then she noticed a woman walk by her, with nary a glance in Meredith’s direction. The woman was distinct. Her red lips stood out like a stoplight, and her dark hair was sharp and clear; Meredith could see every strand. The woman wore a long, black gown, with a very strange decoration. On one shoulder, there was the head of a giant serpent. Meredith supposed it was kind of like wearing a fox fur or a hat with flowers and birds. Just much creepier.

Her eyes followed the woman, as she made her way to a white-clothed table full of champagne glasses. Something trailed the woman. Meredith's feet followed of their own accord, trying to make out the purplish thing that followed the woman like a trained dog.

She wasn’t ten feet away when she finally made it out.

Snake

It was a word, just one, that had clung to the shadow of the woman in black. Meredith blinked her eyes. Was the word Snake supposed to be an insult, that the woman had to drag around the party? Meredith looked around herself, to see if Freak, Weirdo, or maybe Slimeary was attached to her ankle, by an invisible string.

Nothing was there, but as Meredith straightened out, she found the woman’s cold yet alluring eyes examining her. The woman was so inviting, and yet so disturbing, beautiful, and frightening, in equal measures. Meredith wanted to embrace her, yet also hide from her gaze.

Poor baby, I can help you.

The woman must have spoken the words, but Meredith didn't hear them, as much as she felt them slither through her consciousness.

And she saw with a flash, a very brief vision, of waking up in the dormitory of the Academy, with no recollection of who she was, her personality, her memories wiped clean. She would be free, totally unencumbered by the painful recollections of all the jeers, the shame, the hurt that other kids wrought on her throughout her short life.

But, then, would she remember her mother?

Would she remember the Sinking Swann? Would she remember to go back there, and help her mum keep their sorry business afloat?

The answer came to her, and Meredith stepped back from the woman in black. I need to remember my mum, Meredith thought.

The woman shrugged and turned away.

Your loss, little one.

Meredith scurried to the edge of the room, trying to find more guests that were distinct and sharp, like the woman in black had been.

Of course, she realized now, that Snake was one of the Signs.

Her job here, she was beginning to understand, was to find herself one of these Signed guests, then pick one, and work up the courage to ask them to dance. The task would be a Herculean effort for little Meredith, but she had to try her best. She had no idea how long the potion would last.

What if she never asked anyone? Would the dream simply end? Meredith would probably wake up, and immediately get kicked out of the Academy for being too chicken, and failing whatever strange test this was. And then, the thought of returning to the little café, watching it slowly die, and close its doors, when she could have helped, she could have prevented everything…

Hugging the walls, she made her way across the ballroom, her eyes searching across the hazy shades of the other guest for another colorful person.

She found them! A whole group gathered around a small fountain, chatting with each other. All the guests in this group were brightly colored, and as Meredith crept closer, she could distinguish that each had words underneath their feet.

Ladle, underneath a squat little old lady with curly grey hair, who was shoveling pies into her mouth. Water Lily, underneath a beautiful man, with very sad and expressive eyes, dressed in a white dinner shirt, that was decorated with golden ropes, giving him the appearance of being tied up.

There was even a young girl there about Meredith’s age! Maybe, Meredith thought, it would be easier to approach and talk to her. Asking another teenager to dance was still scary, but nowhere near the same effort as asking a fully grown adult.

The young girl, who trailed the word Holly turned and looked at Meredith, her expression cold. Meredith felt a chill go through her entire body. The girl’s face was passive, her expression seemed frozen on her face, and her empty eyes looked almost dead. It felt like the ballroom was freezing, and the girl, who turned back, seemed very distant. Unapproachable.

Maybe not.

Meredith stopped by a large grandfather clock, its face, covered with glass, glinted and reflected the light of the enormous chandelier. She noted the time. It was nearly midnight.

Meredith hung back, intimidated by the group. She took a long time, just observing, and trying to come up with a way she could discreetly ask one of the guests.

More guests, just as colorful, approached the small group, and Meredith could see that they all had words sticking to them. She even saw the woman in black, who she had run into earlier, join the group.

She counted them. There were eleven. She had figured out by now that these guests must somehow represent each Sign, and when she asked one of them for a dance, she would effectively select that Sign as her own.

But weren’t there twelve Signs?

This is unusual.

Meredith spun around, almost tripping over her own feet. She wobbled dangerously for a moment, and the man, who had been standing behind her, steadied her by grabbing her hand. His hand was warm, roughly calloused, used to hard labor, Meredith guessed.

The man had golden hair and owlish wide blue eyes, clear like the summer sky over a ripe wheat field. His smile was friendly, and his costume was a bit on the shabbier side.

His suit, if you could call it that, looked like it had been stitched together from flannel, jeans, shirts, coats, and who knows what else. With the patchy clothes hanging so limply on his frame, the man had the haggard look of a scarecrow. To top off his look, he wore a torn top hat, the upper circle of fabric hanging to the side, like a lolling tongue.

But he seemed kind to Meredith, and as she took her hand back from the man, she worked up enough courage to speak.

“What’s unusual?” She asked quietly.

The ballroom. It’s a different game than usual, although the rules are the same.

Meredith had no idea what the man was talking about, but she thought it impolite to pry further.

She noticed a word dangling underneath this man: Pitchfork. He was another Sign.

Standing close to the man, she could see that words were forming underneath Pitchfork.

Pitchfork

Effect 1: Riddles earn double EXP.

Effect 2: ???

Effect 3: ???

Meredith didn’t know anything about EXP, but she supposed she liked riddles, in an offhand way.

“Can you help me fit in?” She whispered to the man, thinking of the only thing she ever really wanted.

The man shook his head sadly.

Meredith nodded. She doubted it was within the power of any of the Signs to make her normal.

Meredith supposed she ought to just pick one, and be done with it. Maybe this golden-haired man, who approached her, would ask her, and save her the embarrassment.

Stolen novel; please report.

She saw him shake his head again, answering her unasked question.

I’m afraid that’s against the rules, too. Games do have to have rules you know, otherwise, they’re simply no fun.

Meredith sighed. She cast a glance at the other eleven Signs, and then back at the man in front of her.

She didn’t think she could work up the courage to talk to anyone else. And anyway, the man had come over and spoken to her. Maybe she was meant to pick him.

The man smiled again when she examined him.

But hadn’t one of the other Apprentices mentioned not to pick Pitchfork?

The others. Where were they? They had all drank the same potion. She started looking around, thinking she might spot Tess just around the corner, or maybe the sly form of Julius by the punch bowl.

No, no, this is just your show. You won’t find the other five here.

She heard the man next to her, and Meredith slumped her shoulders. For an instant, she felt that everything would be easier if the other teenagers were here, at the same party.

Hang on, Meredith thought, did he say the other five?

There were only four others. Five Apprentices, including herself. Had this man, Mr. Pitchfork, miscounted? Or misspoke?

She decided it didn’t matter, and anyway, it was time to be getting on with things. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the guests fidgeting, showing impatience. She felt in her bones that time was running out.

Dongggg.

The clock behind Meredith had struck twelve. Another dong came, and then another, the mechanical bells inside the clock counting irrevocably to twelve.

Hurry, Cinderella! It’s almost over.

“Wouldyouliketodancewithme!” It all came out as one word, and she struck her shaking hand out to the golden-haired man, who took it laughing.

His smile widened, as he drew her closer to him, and led her out to the dance floor.

Another dong from the clock but this time, it took so much longer to reach the next chime.

They started twirling, the man leading her through an elegant waltz, and Meredith was barely holding on, clutching the man’s arms like a life preserver.

Donngggg.

The clock sounded far away, and shadowy guests were disappearing one by one. Something was coming over the dance floor. It looked like a fog bank, slowly rolling in.

Dongggg.

Meredith looked up at the man she was dancing with. His kind and friendly smile had stretched and now looked more unhinged than anything. His eyes were wide and had the wild desperate look of a lunatic.

Donnnggg.

Pitchfork

Effect 1: Riddles earn double EXP.

Effect 2: ???

Effect 3: ???

Are you sure?

No, she was not sure. As she looked up at the man again, who was singing a song under his breath and smiling deliriously, she thought she made a big mistake. But there simply wasn’t time to fix it. And anyway, she had done the hard part. She asked someone to dance. She did not want to go through that again.

“Yes, I’m sure!” Meredith said, and the fog swept through the dance floor.

Meredith felt her feet step on something soft, cottony, nothing like the smooth hard dance floor. She flailed but managed to hold on to her dance partner, as he twirled her deeper into the fog.

Since this is an unusual game, I have an unusual request for you, Meredith Taylor. A personal request.

She looked at her dance partner, who had fixed his wide eyes on her. His smile vanished, and he looked concerned, which was a welcome change from the delirious expression he wore seconds ago.

Can you help me find my lost Apprentice? He is scared and alone, in the woods. He needs help.

How was she to do that exactly?

They took my Sign from him. He has no one, not even me.

The fog was so thick all around them that she could hardly see anything. They danced and danced and she felt the moist droplets land on her face, cooling it down. This dream felt so real…

Oh yes, dreams, dreams, dreams, what are they but-

All nothing, but everything-

Meredith was having trouble following the man’s words.

Suddenly, light!

They had spun and spun through the fog, and crested over the top, and she realized the fog was a cloud layer, and they had danced to the top where the sun turned the crowns of the clouds rosy and peach-colored.

Don’t forget my request, Meredith!

The man spoke again, and then just as they were twirling to the fluffy hilltop of a sunlit cloud, Meredith felt her feet lose purchase.

The man held her for a moment.

Pitchfork

Effect 1: Riddles earn double EXP.

Effect 2: Start with the Curse of Waking Dreams

Effect 3: ???

Meredith had just enough time to read the new message, and then her hands, clutching the man’s shoulders passed through him like smoke.

Meredith fell through the clouds.

She screamed as she fell,

Goodbye for now.

She heard the man’s words, but they barely registered as she fell and darkness enveloped her.

----------------------------------------

When the Apprentices realized that someone who was not Solomon had been occupying Solomon’s bed, there was a minor uproar.

Where last night, Solomon Beaugiron had gone to sleep, sat a mousy-haired person, of very indistinct features.

Julius found a broom next to his bed, and he stood on his thin mattress, the metal spring bed groaning in protest, and brandishing the broom towards the unknown person (who was too far to be in reach of the tips of the bristles anyway).

While the other Apprentices were busy with the new mystery, Meredith retreated to her cot. What had she been thinking, getting out of bed, and coming over to a boy, who was a perfect stranger? What would the other four think of her?

Mistress, sure of herself as ever, walked over to the intruder and pulled at the collar of his nightshirt.

The stranger, who was looking around with fright at the others, let her pull at his clothes with a small whimper.

Mistress must have found what she was looking for in the sleeve of the nightshirt; she pointed at something and glanced back at the others.

Edward crept closer and looked at where she pointed.

“It says S. B. here… S. B., that could mean Solomon Beaugiron.” He said, examining the edge of the sleeve, the stranger's hand still limply hanging in it.

“The scoundrel stole his clothes.” Julius had put together what Mistress was trying to say, but apparently, he was wrong.

Mistress shook her head and then pointed from the intruder to the trunk, which had been Solomon’s.

“You’re saying he rifled through Solomon’s thing last night?” Julius asked, his eyebrows high on his forehead, and his knuckles white around the broom handle.

Mistress shook her head aggressively

“I think she’s trying to say that this person is Solomon.” Meredith piped up, figuring out the other girl’s intention.

Mistress nodded quickly.

“And why can’t she say it herself?” Julius asked.

All eyes were on Mistress again.

The girl sighed, rolled her eyes, and began a pantomime.

She held her hand over her mouth, then around her neck.

No one said anything, looking at her with confused expressions.

Mistress made a zipping motion over her mouth.

“Oh, she’s mute!” Edward put it together first.

“This is great, just grand,” Julius, now relinquishing the broom, began to rant, “the only one of us who has the faintest idea of what's happening can’t talk, one of us has vanished, and a random bloke has taken his spot!” Julius looked at the stranger.

“Wait, you are a bloke, aren’t you?” Julius asked.

Everyone looked at the stranger. It was indeed hard to tell.

“Uhhhhhhh…” the stranger looked from one Apprentice to another but didn’t come up with an answer.

“What’s your name?'' Edward asked.

“My name! My name is….”

The stranger’s brief smile, which had appeared when the Apprentices calmed down and Julius dropped his ‘weapon,’ swiftly, comically, turned upside down.

“I don’t know.” Said the stranger, looking rather worried about the fact.

Mistress kicked the trunk which had been Solomon’s.

“Ok, ok, so that’s supposedly Solomon. Although he looks nothing like the guy and doesn’t know his name. Ok, fine, I’ll just press the ‘I believe button’ here.” Julius said peevishly.

At this, Edward burst into tears

“For god’s sakes, man, whya’re you crying!” Julius gaped at the other boy.

“I-I don't know, it’s just all so confusing, everyone’s getting mad at each other, and I just can’t, I just can’t stopper the feelings. It’s like they’re coming out of me like water, I can’t hold on to the emotion at all…”

Meredith and Julius looked at each other.

“We're the only normals left, lass.” Julius told her in a low tone. Meredith tried to smile, but she was sure it came out more of a grimace.

“I-I had a dream last night,” Edward spoke through his veil of tears.

As the Apprentices began to discuss their Sign dreams, Meredith realized with horror that she was the odd one out again. No one else had dreamt of a ballroom. No one else saw the Signs personified as colorful guests.

All the rest had dreams of floating, disembodied, in a celestial space, with the Signs forming a ring around them. While Meredith had to sweat and bite her nails, trying to work up the courage to speak to an embodiment of Sorcerous Power, it sounded like all they had to do was pick a constellation. Simple as that!

“After picking a Sign, did anyone else dream they got eaten by a giant snake?” The stranger formerly known as Solomon piped up.

This part of the dream appeared to differ.

Julius saw tentacles coming from all directions, before enveloping him completely.

Edward fell into a pool of water, where Water Lilies floated.

Mistress could not divulge the exact arrow-related finale of her dream, but she did nod when asked about the star-dream, indicating that she had shared the experience with the others.

“What about you, how did Pitchfork end up getting you?” Julius asked. “Fall into a farmer's field that grew between Orion and Andromeda?”

“Um,” Meredith said quietly, “I had dreamt something else.”

Meredith always saw things just a little differently than most.

After finding out how well others liked her talking to snails and leaves and pencils, Meredith never dared to share the brief glimpses of something other that she would, on occasion, catch.

Sometimes, a shadow was just a shadow. But sometimes, late at night, a shadow could be a many-armed, furry thing, crouching in the corner, and looking at Meredith with a multitude of shining, mismatched eyes.

She was scared the first couple of times she caught sight of the things, but eventually, she grew quite used to them. She was never bothered by them, anyway. Not like she was bothered by flesh and blood people.

And anyway, she sometimes saw things that weren’t shadowy many-armed, or many-winged monsters. Sometimes she saw lovely things. Now and again, on a particularly fresh spring morning, she would catch the tall grass stalks growing in the back alley behind the Sinking Swann dabbing dew on each other, gently caressing one another like a mother might caress her new infant. Sometimes she saw cutlery bend and wiggle, before being picked up by someone. Once, she caught the sight of something pulsating and wiggling amid the glowing logs of the brick fireplace which burned on cool evenings in the café.

She never told anyone, not even her mom.

But now, she was telling a room full of curious Apprentices about her dream of ballrooms and spinning with a golden-haired man, and falling through the clouds. She tried to keep the details vague, but they kept questioning her.

The conversation was exceedingly uncomfortable for Meredith. She stuttered and lost her train of thought multiple times, as the others asked her about her dream. She just wasn’t used to sharing things like dreams or thoughts, with anyone.

“Well, certainly, it’s odd that your dream was so different from ours,” Julius said, and Meredith shrank in on herself, the word odd sending tremors down her spine, “but generally, it seems an identical effect was achieved. You picked your Sign, like all of us, and then like all of us, you got a buff.”

“And then a debuff!” Edward filled in, still swiping at his cheeks to staunch the interminable tears, “The second effect must be some kind of debuff. Mine said ‘Curse of Pouring Water.’”

“That must be why you’re pouring water out of your face,” Julius said smirking, but Edward’s lips opened in an O, and his gaze became unfocused.

“I don’t believe it, you’re right!” Edward said.

“What?”

“My curse has been filled in! It says now: Curse of Pouring Water, I’m unable to stem or staunch the flow of emotions!” Edward’s face split into the widest grin Meredith had ever seen. The elation shone out of his face like sunlight. “That makes sense! I had thought that I had simply gone mad! Thank goodness, it’s just a curse.”

Everyone turned towards Mistress. She nodded, and everyone understood that her muteness was also the cause of the Arrow’s celestial curse.

“Mine says Curse of the Weak Arm, but it still only has question marks next to it.” Julius said, with a slight frown.

“Don’t worry I’m sure you’ll find out what it is eventually,” Edward said, but Julius resumed looking rather worried at the prospect.

“Oh, I think I know what’s happened,” said the stranger, who everyone has forgotten momentarily. “Mine is called the Curse of the Unspecified. I am to start with no name no, erm,” he looked around at the other four, gauging if he can trust them, “ no gender, and no other specifying feature.”

Everyone naturally grabbed onto the same detail.

“No gender??? How does that even work?”

“Excuse me for a moment.” The stranger leaped out of bed, and seeing the bathroom behind the wooden door hanging ajar, quickly ran in there and shut the door. The other Apprentices held their breath and did not speak while the stranger, presumably the cursed Solomon, checked up on himself. The stranger returned. His face was the precise light green tinge of a young frog. No one asked him any more questions.

----------------------------------------

There was much discussion on the Signs, the dreams, and of course, the boons and curses.

Meredith found that if she unfocused her gaze, she could bring up information about her Sign.

Sign: Pitchfork

  Buffs: Game Master (Riddles earn double EXP).

  Debuffs: Curse of Waking Dreams (???)

Apparently, Water Lily gave Edward a leg up on having Visions.

“It says: Helpful Visions are twice as likely. Now, that’s great and all, but what are Visions?” Edward asked aloud. Mechanically, everyone turned to Tess for the answer, and then back again remembering that she could not tell anyone anything.

“No clue, sorry.” Julius answered. “Maybe we ought to find a notepad for Miss Know-It-All, and she could tell us,” He said, jerking his head towards Mistress. “I could use some help on mine too. It says higher EXP earned from challenges1. Does it mean any challenge? Like, cooking breakfast might be a challenge?”

Edward and Meredith shrugged, and Mistress (of course) said nothing.

“Mine’s simple enough!” Said the stranger cheerfully, “Romance is twice as easy! Ooo watch out everyone!” The stranger said, wiggling his eyebrows at the group.

“Y’know, I’d have an easier time believing that bloke is Solomon if he acted at all like him. Not like we were bosom friends before this Initiation business, but I do notice a certain change in personality.” Julius commented. And it was true. The new person, supposedly Solomon under the Curse of the Snake Sign, acted nothing like the brooding boy who had been their dorm mate last night.

“That makes sense, doesn’t it?” Edward said, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his long nose, “His curse starts him with no specifying feature. Personality would be a specifying feature, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose…” Julius answered, unconvinced, and the newly unspecified Solomon said nothing.

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