I had to admit to a pang of envy as I watched Sett dash off to his destiny as a Warrior. Everything about him was so simple, so uncomplicated. He had the eyes of a true believer, and that kind of certainty was something I wished I had more often than not. Having grown up with a father who complained of the intricacies and politics of the Tower, who was not shy about criticizing the elders and even the Prophet at the privacy of his own table, did not lend itself to an easy, unquestioning faith.

And, at the moment, my unhealed tongue and lips weren’t doing me any favors either. Seeing myself reflected in the Scrying Pool as a majestic, invested Devout of various stripes should have been an intoxicating promise of mastery and holy power, but the pain I still felt soured the excitement. Those other fool children had been forgiven of their failures; was I to be punished for my success? We’d have never won free of the demon imp without my ingenuity. It wasn’t fair.

Grimacing in both pain and annoyance, I shook myself free of dark thoughts. It was time for the choosing, and dwelling on doubts would only distract me. I was about to set my path for the rest of my time in the Tower – perhaps for the rest of my life – and I wasn’t about to choose lightly.

The Scrying Pool reflections rippled before me, one replacing the other as gentle waves rippled across the surface. The first was me as a Beast Kin: dressed in wild furs and leathers, a demon-may-care grin peeking from behind a beard braided with vines, green eyes piercing and feral, a massive, striped hunting cat pressing its broad head into my hand. My skin glowed with health and there was a definite hint of fangs in that smile. Then this beautiful Beast Kin version of me sprang into action, and I was suddenly seeing from behind his eyes as I looked into the pool. He was racing through an overgrown jungle, and some cloven-footed prey’s hoofprints glowed with heat in his vision. Faster and faster he raced, and when a springing deer came into view, bounding away at speed, he threw his bow aside and leapt on it with his bare hands, mighty arms twisting until its neck snapped. The great cat stepped up to feed, and they roared in triumph together.

This was a me that could tear an enemy apart before they even knew I was there. I loved him. I wanted to be him.

The ripples spread, and the Beast Kin self was gone, replaced by a wraith wrapped in wisps of midnight, his lower face obscured by an Assassin’s mask. Black eyes promised painful, exotic deaths, and glass daggers glinted into existence both in hands and sheaths before disappearing from view. Here was a master of illusion and movement. Once again, I lived behind his eyes, darting out of shadows to bring down anyone I pleased. The Beast Kin might play at hiding in the shadows, but this version of me was the shadows. No one could ever touch me if I were him.

Another ripple, and a Warrior wore my face. Bloody blades emerged from apertures atop both wrists to extend past my hands like razor extensions of my will to power. A crown of flaming locks wreathed my head, and my reflection laughed exultantly. He wore shining plate mail and stood a full head taller than I did. I heard the phantom twang of a bowstring, and from within the Warrior himself I moved like a blur, plucking an arrow out of the air before it could pierce me, then bringing the tip up to casually clean my teeth. I’d been the best fighter around for years now, but this reflection of me could have handed current me my liver without breaking a sweat. Magnificent.

And then, rippling by so fast that I almost missed it, I saw the Summoner. Bedecked in purple robes rich enough for a lord, he stood proud and unadorned by magical weapons or armor. With a smirk and a twitch of his fingers, he whispered a word of power and a gigantic form loomed behind him: a demon twice as tall as the one that had killed me during the Entry Test, fangs dripping slaver and eyeless head staring. When I saw from within this me’s eyes, though, I instead of human hands, I saw myself with that huge demon’s razor claws and monstrous arms. I was inside the demon; Summoner-me was possessing it. My demon self raised its arms, unleashing fireballs as big as houses from the tips of my talons, streaking in all directions. My heart pounded at the sight, and from within the demon’s sight – how do they see? They have no eyes! – I caught sight of my master, my Summoner self. He smiled, a toothy, vicious grin. He was an arrogant bastard, and I wanted to know how that felt.

Back and forth the reflections wavered, one after the other. On all sides the other young men and women made their choices, moving away from the pool to confer with unseen Elders. I wanted to chew my lips in frustration, but they were already burnt and aching. How was I supposed to choose? I wanted to be all of these selves. There was not a one of them that did not speak to me deeply. I could not leave a single one of them behind in favor of the others. I wanted to accost the Elders and found myself increasingly angry that I wasn’t allowed to see them until I’d made my choice.

I wanted to say it was the lingering pain that drove me, but the more honest answer was that I simply wasn’t going to accept the state of things as they had been explained to me. If I was going to spend my life, my blood, and by all evidence so far, an unholy number of deaths in the service of the Tower and the Celestial Realm, then somebody was going to have to chat with me about it first, damn them all.

I strode away from the pool to the far side where the others had held their invisible conferences. “I wish to speak to the Elders,” I said to the empty air. I sounded like a simpleton with my ruined tongue, and it rather spoiled the gravity of the moment.

MAKE YOUR CHOICE AND YOU SHALL, thundered a voice in my ear.

“No,” I said, forcing firmness into my voice. “Now. Please.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

There was a ringing silence for a long moment, and then the voice returned louder. NEOPHYTES WHO DO NOT CHOOSE FIND AN UNPLEASANT FATE, CHILD.

“I will choose,” I assured the absent voice, “but I want to discuss another way to go about it.”

I stood there in silence for a long time. I watched the others file out of the room as they made their choices. Aldric saw me watching and cheerfully tossed a rude hand gesture in my direction as he left. The room was emptying. Would they simply ignore me until I gave in and chose? My blistered, bleeding mouth lent me stubbornness. I would stand here all night if necessary. Four of the Orders were willing to accept me; certainly I was a student with promise. They would speak with me… wouldn’t they?

An hour passed, and still I stood there, back straight, silent as the grave. The last of the others left the hall, glancing back at me with a look of concerned sympathy. Then I was alone. I’d had plenty of time to count the others; only twenty-seven children besides myself had stood before the pool. It was a paltry number, given the enormity of the War Above and the gravity of the ever-lowering Limness. Father often spoke of the classes of a hundred or more in past testings. Were we really going to lose against the Greater demons who had infiltrated and attacked the Celestial Home? Not if I had anything to say on the matter… and not if the damned Elders would simply speak to me.

Four massive bodies shimmered into existence in front of me, and I let out a breath I hadn’t been aware I was holding. Each of the Elders was a vision of majesty. I could not see their faces; they shone too brightly. The Warrior Elder was dressed in black plate and had the shadow of a mighty mountain behind him – an aura of struggle, might, and the screams of the conqueror. The Assassin Elder was a smudge of starry sky with the suggestion of reaching tentacles and the cold of the void; they were the only one that did not shine. The Beast Kin Elder had a pair of raptor eyes hanging in the air overhead, and I could hear the cry of a hawk whenever I glanced in their direction. The Summoner stood a little apart on one end; an aura of flames and dread wreathed them, and curled horns framed their shining countenance.

“You bend the rules, young man,” said one – I wasn’t sure which – their voice ringing like a bell. “We are not servants to be summoned.”

“A healthy disregard for what others do is a useful thing,” said the Assassin Elder, holding out the suggestion of a hand. “Come with me and we will make the most of it.”

Almost I said yes. The weight of the others’ disapproval was a tangible thing, and the Assassin’s offer felt like a lifeline thrown into a roiling sea. But instead I bit my torn tongue and reminded myself of my purpose.

“I wish to choose all of these paths,” I said, projecting confidence.

“Impossible,” said the Warrior Elder, hand chopping down like an executioner. “You do not know what you ask.”

“Ingrate,” hissed the Assassin. “These paths are not toys to be played with.”

“I know,” I said, heart speeding. “But when I saw my reflections, every single one of them lived in my heart.”

“That is by design, stupid child,” intoned the Summoner. “For one like you, each vision represents an aspect of yourself.”

“We know who you are,” said the Beast Kin Elder, sounding more tolerant than the others, if not exactly friendly. That echo of an eagle scream lifted my spirits as he spoke. “You will receive no special favors because of your parentage.”

I clenched my fists. The last thing I wanted was for Father to be a part of this conversation. “I wish no unfair consideration. I just don’t know how to make myself give up any of the possibilities the future has for me. I want them all.”

“He does not know himself,” one murmured, a bell on the breeze.

“Did any of us, when we stood in his shoes?” the Beast Kin said. “He is half a gormek yet.”

“Could I,” I ventured, my hands twisting on each other, “try to walk each path? Just for a bit?”

“I do not share my path with any who will not commit,” hissed the Assassin, sounding affronted. “Even my peers do not know where the Hall of my Order is located – you think I would show it to a dilettante?” The darkness flared. “Cast him out or lick his boots,” the shadow said to the other Elders, “but I will have none of it. The Assassins withdraw their offer.”

I heard a warping, mind-bending pop, and the Assassin Elder winked out of existence. The silence that followed their withdrawal sounded faintly embarrassed.

“The Elder displays more pique than is proper,” said the Warrior, “but the point is valid. Either you belong to my Order or you do not. Until and unless you do, you will not share in the joys of battle or of rest with those who already have sworn themselves.”

“Still, a taste of what we can offer is not so much to ask,” said the Beast Kin. “We need not admit him to the Order to allow him access to a few classes. For a time, at least.”

“A day,” said the Warrior. “If the spirit of the Conqueror does not call him after one day, he does not belong to me.”

“I will give you a week,” said the Beast Kin gently. “Some bonds do not form instantly.”

“But you may not enter our Halls,” interjected the Warrior. “Until you choose, you will sleep in the corridors.”

“He can stay in our Hall,” said the Summoner Elder, who had stood quiet and seemingly pensive for a long time. “We do not fear him.”

“You would show your secrets to one not sworn to your Order?” the Warrior said, sounding scandalized.

“No,” replied the Summoner, the demon aura around them flaring and echoing with the laughter of the damned. “I simply know my own when I see them.” Without moving, the massive figure suddenly loomed over me. “Play at your dreams of the woodlands and the battlefield for a time if you wish, child. You spoke the Word and paid the price. You belong to us.”