Upon my honor I swear that I shall hold in sacred trust the rights and privileges conferred upon me as an initiate of the Goddmashin. Knowing full well that the honor and lives of others are dependent upon my sacrifice, skill, and bending. I shall never knowingly subject others to risks which I would not be willing to assume for myself, or those dear to me. I realize the grave responsibility which is mine as a certified bender, to exercise my judgment on the worthiness of our craft. I therefore, pledge unyielding adherence to these precepts for the advancement of humanity and for the dignity of my vocation.

~Credo of the Goddmashin

Jin:

The dim light of the street lamps cast long shadows across the worn walls of our apartment as I trudged up the stairs, the weight of the day heavy on my shoulders. The metal bending training had been more challenging than ever, each fight, exercise, and failure serving as a painful reminder of the obstacles standing between me and my dreams.

In a few weeks, I’d have to stand in front of a circle of old men, judged in a few short minutes, to determine the course of my life. In this new age, everything is simplified to as few numbers as possible. My tests would have to be perfect. No margin for error, but I would be ready. My work will not be for nothing. I spit on the idea of being but a simple number.

Pushing aside my thoughts as I open the creaking door, I am greeted by the faint scent of stale air mingled with the acrid tang of industrial smoke that permeates the city. Mother stood over the stove, her skinny form silhouetted against the flickering lamplight as she stirred a pot of broth.

"Welcome home, Jin," she murmured, her voice barely audible above the distant hum of machinery. Her weary eyes held a glimmer of hope, but it was overshadowed by the deep lines etched into her tired face. How skinny she has become, I think, taking in her frame from head to foot. Thoughts and doubts about her ongoing sessions with the bionova spring to mind before I clamp down on my doubts. No, Mother has whatever Father did. Sick. Sick and in need of good care, I conclude.

I try to force a smile, though it faltered as I met Mother's gaze. We both knew the harsh reality of our situation. Mother's illness draining our meager savings, leaving our family teetering on the brink.

Father had died due to an unfortunate accident working at one of the rich islands owned by the Vernis, powering the great Goddmashin machines. Mother used to say how strong and young he was when they met. However, the only memories of him I have left are the frail figure he cast in the night, coming home at hours when I should’ve been fast asleep. While his death was said to be unrelated to work, the Vernis did provide Mother with a small sum to subside on. Unfortunately, that small sum ran dry over half a year ago.

As we sat down to our sparse meal, the silence was deafening at first. Each bite seemed almost a bitter reminder of life and struggles. As I drank in my bowl of broth, my mind churned with worry over the thoughts of the Goddmashin exams. More like a gauntlet of tests. They felt like a looming specter over my shoulder. An invisible weight only I was cursed to bear. Testing to be a certified Goddmashin would take all and more that I had to give.

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While I picked at the meager portion of broth, I tried to muster up the courage to broach the subject weighing heavily on my mind. Finally, clearing my throat, I spoke, "You know, Mom, today at the gym, Master Li did say I have serious potential," I said tentatively, trying to inject a note of optimism into the conversation. “It’s not much, but I think my bending has come a long way. Maybe even enough for the next steps.”

Mother looked up, her tired eyes brightening for a moment. "Really? That's wonderful, Jin! See, I've always said you have a knack for bending."

I managed a weak smile. "Yeah, but... I'm not sure it's enough. The Goddomashin—they're intimidating, to say the least, with very high standards.”

The Goddomashin, a play on words for ‘the god machine’ in the original Western Earth Kingdom tongue, was the oldest and most widespread organization in the Cities. Getting certified by them opened all doors to a street urchin like myself. Teaching, learning, jobs, skills, and a comfortable future for me and mine were possible if I could land a certification or even position with the Goddmashin.

Bringing my mind out of deep thoughts, Mother reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on mine. "I know, Jin. I know. But don't sell yourself short. You have a fire in you, a determination I've never seen in anyone else. Even your father was not nearly as brilliant as you are. You will do this," she said, looking deep into my eyes.

I slowly but surely nodded, feeling grateful for her unwavering faith. Mother was always a strong woman. She seemed never to falter. "Thank you, Mom. I'll do my best."

Suddenly, Mother's face lit up with mischief. "You know, if you become an apprentice to the Goddomashin, maybe you can invent something to cure my cooking!"

We both chuckled at the jest, and the tension in the air momentarily lifted. "Hey, now, don't insult your cooking," I teased back. "I find your meals to be egg-sell-ent."

Wittily, his mother replied, “I disagree. I think they are egg-scrusiating.”

Our laughter filled the cramped apartment, a brief respite from the harsh times ahead. At that moment, I knew that whatever challenges lay in the future, we would face them together. The weight felt a little less heavy.

After eating, our talks grew quieter, and Mother got up to clear the table. I decided to show off even though my exhaustion was in full effect. Summoning my remaining strength, I focused my energy on the metal utensils left on our wooden table.

With barely a flick of the wrist, the metal cups, bowls, spoons, and chopsticks danced through the air, dipping and vigorously spinning through the kitchen sink bucket and then shaking off and arranging themselves neatly in the dish rack. My mental concentration was only a slight additional weight, nothing compared to the earlier exercises with Master Li as I guided each piece into place. The utensils' movements were fluid and precise despite the fatigue weighing heavily.

Mother watched in awe, a proud smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Look at you, Jin! Always finding a way to make life a little easier." As I grinned, I felt a brief surge of pride at her words. "Just doing my part, Mom," I replied, my voice clearly now tinged with exhaustion. The weight now feeling a little heavier.

As we settled in for the night, I lay awake in the darkness, my mind racing with doubts and fears. The prospect of approaching the Goddomashin faction for certification seemed more daunting than ever, the towering shadow of their influence casting a pall over my aspirations. But as I listened to the rhythmic sound of Mother’s shallow breaths from across the room, a flicker of determination stayed ignited. Our struggles would not define us. I will fight tooth and nail to carve out a better future. For myself, for Mother, no matter the cost. No matter the weight, I thought before sleep overtook me.