ã€ŠThe Lonesome Island and the Infinite Seaã€‹


 Chapter 1: 20,000 leagues under the lake

    Ness

    Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why hadn¡¯t she attached the thrice-dammed security strap to her wrist? Sure, she knew the reason¡ªit had been slightly uncomfortable¡ªbut still, why?! Ness steeled herself and tried to stay calm. Unfortunately, taking big calming breaths would¡¯ve probably spawned a new cautionary tale for children. It would go something like ¡°Don¡¯t be like little Ness and go diving alone, at night, and with no training or you¡¯ll end up dead in the lake just like her¡±. No thank you. Ending up dead in the lake was not something that she really wanted to do tonight.

    First, Calm down. Now, think; Why can¡¯t I see anything? The hazy luminance of the glowstone on her wrist let out a faint yellow aura which only gave her a view of the silt that she¡¯d kicked up in her escape from the terrible monster. Well, turns out thrashing about isn¡¯t good for seeing. A lesson to remember for next time then. Ness had two choices: Blindly grope around on the lakebed for the breather tank or surface as quickly as possible before she ran out of breath. Glancing downwards again, she decided that waiting for the silt to settle was too long of a wait. It¡¯s time to get out of here.

    She was pretty sure that there was something critical that she was forgetting. Divers in stories usually had their breather tanks when going up and they always blew lots of bubbles. Maybe breathing out is important? Well, only one way to find out. Ness reached down and blindly groped for the knots that held the improv dive weights to her shins. She¡¯d tied two long, heavy rocks there to keep her feet down and allow her to bound across the bottom of the lake. Deftly, she pulled on the knots and noiselessly the ropes and rocks fell away. Then, the hazy cloud of silt that had been obscuring her vision receded into the underwater void.

    As soon as she noticed that she was apparently moving upwards, the pressure in her lungs began to build. Right, blow bubbles. She started to exhale slowly, and seemingly found an endless amount of air in her lungs. Ness rose upwards. Or at least she thought she did. From her perspective, it was difficult to tell as the halo of light cast by her glowstone only punctured the gloom to her toes. Anything beyond that was completely black. Her lungs began to complain, and she still hadn¡¯t run out of bubbles to blow. Where was all that air coming from? I need to reach the surface NOW.

    She pointed her arms ahead and started to sweep them backwards before she realized that she had no idea which direction was up, and which was down. What if she just pushed her way back further into the lake or went sideways? How could she know which way was up? Was it just her or was the glowstone getting dimmer? Was the water getting colder too? Was she sinking!? This is bad, her mind decided and dispensed a performance enhancing shot of adrenaline. Inspiration struck and she saw it: something was glittering at the edge of her rapidly fading vision¡ªone of her air bubbles. It was moving away from her at an odd angle. Huh, why is the bubble moving sideways?

    Then her foggy mind put together the pieces. The bubbles always go straight upwards, I can follow them! Her subconscious, startled out of its ¡®end-of-life memories-flash-before-your-eyes¡¯ preparation, spilled its hastily prepared slides everywhere, and decided that another spike of energy was just what was needed. One burst of energy and three strokes later, Ness¡¯s face breached the surface and she took several large gasps of air, relieved to be alive¡ªand that nobody had seen her monumental mistake. Sure, she¡¯d avoided being canonized in a cautionary tale, but her little adventure hadn¡¯t been anything like the stories she knew.

    If she¡¯d been a dashing hero, she would¡¯ve been able to fight of the monstrosity or she would¡¯ve been able to locate the missing breather tank through some perfect alignment of fate or whatever. Well, it turns out I¡¯m not a storybook hero... yet. Additionally, reflecting on her past actions, she realized her entire little adventure had been foolish. First, she¡¯d snuck out of the house at night, well that was nothing new, and then she¡¯d preformed some breaking-and-entering on the diving school. To cap it off, she¡¯d ¡®borrowed¡¯ a breather tank, and finally, Ness had freaked out at the first sight of anything she hadn¡¯t seen before. The weird cephalopod wasn¡¯t even that big, it was probably more scared of me than I of it when we bumped into each other.

    Now that the burst of energy had faded and her post-near-death-experience thought process about her fragile morality had run its course, two new problems presented themselves to her. First, she was dead tired. It felt as if leechfish had attached themselves to every muscle on her body and sucked the energy right out. In addition to the drained feeling, it also felt as if pufferfish quills had perforated every joint in her body. Her knees were on the verge of popping and her hands were almost immobile from the pain. With a quick glance, Ness realized that the imagined swelling wasn¡¯t just psychosomatic.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    That really hurts, I need to get to the shore. With gentle backstroke, she began to move towards the nearest shore of the small, but deceptively deep lake. Each stroke brought a new wave of agony and she focused on the stars above to keep her mind distracted and her course straight. Then, the fractal pattern of the tree canopy blocked out said stars and after an indeterminate time, her head bumped upwards and a small rock dug into her shoulder. Finally, the shore. With superhuman force of will, she dragged herself onto the gravely lakeside, biting her lower lip to prevent herself from crying out in pain. Her joints were on fire. Unable to any more complex thoughts, she collapsed right there and fell into a surprisingly rejuvenating sleep almost instantaneously.

    A handful of bells later, dawn was approaching, and the pre-dawn light painted the jungle and the lake in monochrome shades of gray. Birds started to cry for mates and started to bustle about in the trees above. Ness awoke to these noises and after a second of confusion as to where she was, she sat up. Alright Ness, time to take inventory. Ness patted her side, and found she still had knife and sheath attached to her swimwear. Checking her wrist, she found that the glowstone had spilled the last of its stored sunlight during the night. Finally, checking herself, she found that she had a couple of small scrapes on her legs and back that she¡¯d probably gotten from dragging herself ashore but to her great delight and relief, her joints no longer felt like they were about to explode on her. That¡¯s probably why divers go back to the surface slowly.

    Ness also found she was no longer fatigued but instead simply ravenously hungry. She needed to get home¡ªand quickly. Today isn¡¯t a workday so dad and mom aren¡¯t going to get up early. That was clever planning on her part. She¡¯d known that she might get home late and planned her adventure accordingly. Anyways, nothing I can do about that now, let¡¯s just get moving. With that, she was off.

    Since the path back to her village started on the opposite side of the lake, and, washing her hair and back was probably a good idea, she took a shortcut through the lake with a quick swim. Once at the other side, she wrung the water out of her hair and swimwear as best as she could and started a swift march down the dusty path, up to the ridge, and then along it towards her village. The ridgeline gave her an incredible view. To her right, the endless ocean melded almost seamlessly into the dawn sky and to her left, Carhula bay presented itself, appearing as if a giant beast had taken a bite out of the island. The white crescent of the multiple beaches stood out in stark contrast to the dark of the jungle behind the shore and in the distance, on the far side of the bay, the big town of Donaview was just visible.

    Ness continued along the path at a brisk pace, only stopping to pick a ripe mango or vanillafruit occasionally. This morning jaunt through the jungle was both good and bad for her. Good because it let her dry off and recover some of her energy. Bad because it let her reflect on how stupid she¡¯d been. Unable to stop kicking herself, she wasn¡¯t even sure about what had gotten this ill-advised adventure started. Ruminating some more, she concluded that it had probably been all those stories she read and that her parents read to her. Why can¡¯t I be a brave hero like in the stories? Am I just too young? Something to think about. Maybe, she¡¯d ask her father about that night in such a way that would never reveal any details about her little adventure. Also, hopefully that missing breather tank wouldn¡¯t cause too many problems. Oops.

    The village where Ness and her parents lived was now to her left. The path to it broke off from the ridgeline path and descended the slope in a switchback pattern until it reached the beach and the sea. Homes were arrayed in a mostly triangular pattern in this village with most of the open-style houses perching on their stilts along the beachfront. As the village sprawled up the slope, house density decreased until at the very top of the pyramid was the Mindago residence. Ness¡¯s home. The Mindago residence wasn¡¯t special and like most of the other non-beachfront homes, was a simple one story, stilted construction. The only two things that made it special besides its location as the geographically highest house in the village was that it; 1. Had a small watchtower with its own roof extending it, and 2. It was where Ness lived.

    With Ness¡¯s finely developed sneaking skills, trained through countless hours spent trapesing through the jungle on the island, she stealthily approached the back of the house. There, she approached the clothesline and added her swimwear to the bright smattering of diverse clothing to dry. Next, she bit down on her sheathed knife with her teeth, just like the mariners do in the stories, and silently clambered up the horizontal beams that held the interior burlap walls in place until she reached the eaves of the small house. The flat, sloping, roof was held ajar by multiple vertical extensions providing ventilation to the house and a convenient second entrance for the nimble Ness. Slipping through the gap, she dropped the one-and-a-half meters to the floor of her room¡ªthe loft¡ªand made her way over to her dresser. There, she silently stored the knife and her glowstone. Finally, it was time to properly sleep; lakeside sleeping hadn¡¯t exactly been comfortable. As the first rays of the sun shot from the horizon, ness wrapped herself in her thin blanked and dozed off in her hammock.

 Chapter 2: Fun equals dangerous

    Lynn

    That same morning, across the bay, in Donaview, the heir to the Declan family, Lynton was waking up. Often, this was his favorite part of the day; a moment of peace and solace before the various tutors, servants, and other attendants started to bustle him about and make him do things. Already, he felt the heat of the day ramping up. Often, he wished that he could live in a more regular home with open walls, wide views to the sea, and a constant breeze blowing through. A breeze would be awfully nice right now. The manor he lived in wasn¡¯t the biggest on the island or even in Donaview, after all, his father was only 2<sup>nd</sup> Magister. This guaranteed the Declan patriarch a seat at the council table but at the lower end and without a triumvirate vote. Still, according to his father, the manor was very ¡®cultured¡¯, and the building was just right as it was. Solid walls, small glass windows, grand staircases, and plenty of hidden doors that servants (and occasionally Lynn) used to vanish and reappear somewhere else.

    With some sort of supernatural servant¡¯s sense, his manservant, Auxlus had divined that he was awake and bustled into the room. With practiced efficiency, he opened the door to Lynn¡¯s closet while greeting the still groggy Lynn. ¡°Good morning master Declan, your father insists you look your best today¡± explained Auxlus as he shuffled through the row of uncomfortable clothing that lined his closet.

    Oh no, he used the full ¡®young master Declan¡¯, that means I¡¯m in for a treat. Lynton and Auxlus had developed their own code about important things in the household over the years. ¡®Important things¡¯ was mainly the mood that Father was currently in. Informal addresses such as ¡®Lynn¡¯ or ¡®Lynton¡¯ meant that everything was smooth sailing while the full ¡®young master Lynton Askelemar Declan¡¯ might as well be the storm bells signaling an immediate evacuation order due to the presence of some large saltwater monstrosity attacking the town from the bay.

    The ¡®master Declan¡¯ that Auxlus had used indicated a medium level of threat. Most likely, his father was impatient, or otherwise annoyed that his son wasn¡¯t already awake, dressed, and at attention beside him. Well let¡¯s get moving then. Wouldn¡¯t want to keep father waiting. With a modicum of grumbling, Lynn rubbed the last dregs of sleep from his eyes and went over to Auxlus who¡¯d laid out a stifling semi-formal outfit with long sleeves and long pants for him. Lynn groaned. It was already easy to tell that today was going to be hot and wearing long sleeves and long pants was going to make him burn. Delaying would be of no use though. Lynn exited the oversized door to his room and followed his servant¡¯s unspoken instructions in the form of an extended arm directing him downstairs and to the dining room.

    Lynn took the grand staircase two steps at a time (because he knew his father didn¡¯t like him doing that) and proceeded to the ornate dining room. Catching himself at the entrance, he stopped, bowed, and uttered ¡°Good morning father¡±, before straightening back up, casting his gaze about the room, and noticing that his father had a visitor. His father and the visitor were dining at the head of the long table with his father holding the prime spot and the older man seated beside him and to his right. To his left, was an empty place setting that was presumably for him. As Lynton approached, his father found a break in the conversation and with charismatic ease, introduced Lynton to his guest, ¡°Ah good morning my son, nice of you to join us¡± Turning to the elder gentleman, he gestured and explained, ¡°Elder Scholar Brelelian, may I introduce my son : Lynton Askelemar Declan.¡±

    Remembering his manners, Lynton bowed briefly before taking his seat and starting to pick at his food. Why was there a scholar from the Keep in his dining room for breakfast? Lynton continued to eat, mostly toning out the conversation his father and the guest were having. It wasn¡¯t hard to decipher exactly what the patriarch and the scholar were talking about Still, Lynn didn''t bother; mostly because it was so dry and boring. Who cared if some councilmember supported some decree or the vice supervisor of something had been opposed to some ruling? Lynton could never understand how his father spent all day talking about, what to Lynton, amounted to essentially nothing.

    Suddenly the conversation shifted, and his Father¡¯s body language indicated that Lynton was now included. His father continued, ¡°So scholar Brelelian, can you give my son any advice on excelling in school and more importantly the exams?¡± This seemed almost rehearsed. Without missing a beat, Brelelian turned to Lynton and intoned ¡°In order to excel in academic pursuits and in turn, achieve high scores on the exams, I can recommend several preparatory programs that will give Young Master Lynton every advantage there is to have before entering school.¡± Now in an inquisitive tone, he asked Lynton ¡°Tell me, Lynton, are you a proficient reader? How is your writing?¡±

    Lynton, respectfully replied, ¡°Scholar Brelelian, I¡¯ve read several diverse books already and father has started me on transcribing the Core Declaration to practice my penmanship.¡± Brelelian seemed pleased and expressed this, ¡°Excellent, Excellent, that means your tutor won¡¯t have to start from nothing!¡± Seeing the questioning look in Lynton, Lynton¡¯s father picked up the conversation, ¡°Ah yes, Lynton, Elder Brelelian and I have thought it best to organize a tutor for you. Lessons will begin this afternoon.¡± Lynton was momentarily shocked. A tutor? Why didn¡¯t he tell me about this before? Breaking out of his momentary paralysis, his father¡¯s political training kicked in and Lynton mechanically replied with ¡°Thank you Father and scholar, I¡¯m sure a tutor will be greatly beneficial to my further education. I await the lessons eagerly.¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Now that Lynton¡¯s conversational obligation was fulfilled, Magister Declan exhaled in satisfaction, turned to Scholar Brelelian, and continued his previous conversations about council intrigue. Lynton mechanically continued to spoon his breakfast into his mouth while considering his new predicament. More work¡ªgah! Lynton already had ¡®lessons¡¯ from his father which mostly involved his father telling Auxlus to tell Lynton what to do and occasionally checking his work. He always gave him the most boring things to do. The most recent, transcribing the Core Declaration, was especially tedious. The Core Declaration was a thick tome which contained the primary legal framework that the government of the island, and by extension his father, operated under.

    Now Lynton had to spend his day transcribing, learning propriety, practicing his flute, and then attending lessons with his new tutor. When would he have free time!? All his daily activities were so cultured. Auxlus taught him how to dress properly, how to behave with propriety, and how to act in a cultured manner. Even his flute practice had been inspired by his father¡¯s desire for Lynton to be more cultured¡ªand playing a cultured instrument was something that every cultured member of high society should be able to do. Lynton sighed. I should try toto convince father to let me attend something that¡¯s not so ¡®cultured¡¯ for a change.

    A couple hours later, Lynn was getting antsy in the stuffy house. Auxlus, who¡¯d spent the last hour trying to make Lynn memorize the correct order in which eating utensils were to be used was also starting to get frustrated. He¡¯d raised more than one Declan child and could recognize that this was going nowhere fast. The kid needed to go out and move. He only wasn¡¯t sure how to broach this topic with the Patriarch. Maybe he could argue that physical exercise was a key part of being a balanced and well-rounded person? That sounded convincing enough for now. Leaving Lynn to his own devices for a spell, he located Sir Declan in his ostentatious office and knocked. A brusque ¡°Enter¡±, a deferential bow, and a quick ¡°Sir¡± later, Auxlus had the full attention of the Declan patriarch.

    ¡°What is it Auxlus. Is Lynton not doing as he¡¯s told?¡±

    ¡°No Sir, Lynton is behaving just fine. I¡¯ve come here to suggest another matter in furthering his education as well-rounded and cultured individual.¡±

    The patriarch raised his eyebrow and asked, ¡°What are you suggesting?¡±

    ¡°I believe young Lynton has reached the age where he is ready to participate in an organized physical activity. His energy requires an outlet, and I believe that with some exercise interspersed between his regular lessons, he will take to his lessons more readily.¡±

    ¡°Is that so? Hmm yes, well Benjamin was around his age when he first started on the competitive swim team¡­ Very well. Have Lynton choose a sport from the school¡¯s list and have him present his case for attendance to me during dinner¡±

    ¡°Sir?¡±

    ¡°What is it¡± Sir Declan snapped.

    ¡°Tonight, you already have dinner plans at the governor¡¯s estate¡±

    Sir Declan relaxed again and absentmindedly gestured while continuing, ¡°Right, right, very well, then tomorrow morning he shall present his choice.

    Auxlus retreated from the office with another bow and a quick ¡°Sir¡±. Finding Lynton absent from the dining room, he tracked Lynton down to the yard where he was hastily trying to roll up the legs of his pants. Lynn wasn¡¯t quite fast enough, Auxlus saw that Lynn¡¯s pants were muddied up on the knees. With a guilty look, Lynn stood still and slowly brushed off the now muddied knees.

    ¡°Master Declan, it seems you¡¯ve tripped and fallen in the yard again¡± admonished Auxlus.

    ¡°Sorry Auxlus, it was just soooo boring learning about all the spoons and forks¡± Lynn pouted.

    ¡°Well on the subject of being outdoors, I¡¯ve spoken with your father and he¡¯s agreed to let you choose a sport to attend.¡± Seeing Lynn¡¯s hopeful look, Auxlus continued, ¡°and no, you can¡¯t pick something crazy like spearfishing or delving. Only school-approved sports are allowed for you to choose from.¡± Lynn¡¯s hopeful smile fell a tiny bit but then he asked, ¡°Can I see the list?¡± The pair returned to the house and began to pour over the list of offerings.

    Swim team? No. Canoe team? No. Racquetball? No. Interpretive dance? No way! Lynn already knew what he was going to pick. If his father wasn¡¯t going to let him participate in any of the extremely dangerous fun sports, he¡¯d have to pick the most fun sport from the list. Easy choice. Diving school. Unlike most of the other sports, diving school itself wasn¡¯t a sport but it was the prerequisite for many of the underwater sports and it was the most dangerous of the school-approved sports. Lynn wasn¡¯t exactly a thrill-seeker or enamored by the idea of risking his life underwater, but still, by picking the most dangerous activity was did have certain merits¡ªnamely sticking it to the man.

 Chapter 3: The beginning of something deep

    Ness

    Alright Ness, big day today. Today was her first day enrolled at diving class¡ªbut not her first-time diving in this particular lake. She shivered slightly and was wavering between terrified and excited. On the one hand, the terrifying: People. Sure, she played with Millie when her family visited for dinner and their parents discussed things that were so boring to her 10-year-old mind that they may as well be the background droning of insects. Ness didn¡¯t dislike Millie or anything. They got along fine, it¡¯s just that Ness preferred to go at it alone, stalking through tide pools in the early morning light or trapesing around in the tropical foliage above her village. Heck, even her midnight diving adventure, the encounter with what was definitely an ancient lakebed monstrosity, and her subsequent harrowing escape from certain death hadn''t been that scary¡ªeven in the moment. On the other hand, meeting new people and talking to them? Truly, it cannot get any worse.

    People or no people, diving class was step one in her planned ascension to the hallowed rank of Mariner. All the famous Mariners started out in diving class, and that¡¯s probably what had inspired that late-night adventure. If I could only learn to properly dive without having to be around so many people. However, she reasoned to herself, if I¡¯m going to spend all my time on the wide ocean, seeking adventure, dredging up treasure, fighting sea monsters, and meeting handsome, well-muscled, rugged-but-charming, young ship¡¯s captains, I¡¯m going to need to know how to dive properly. Or at least, that¡¯s what the stories that she read told her. She wasn¡¯t quite sure on why there was such a disproportionate amount of handsome young men in the stories but when she asked her mother about it, she got the evasive answer that ¡°you¡¯ll figure it out when you¡¯re older¡±. Ugh, she was 10! Not a little girl anymore!

    When it came time to attend the first lesson of diving class, Ness had to be dragged there by her mother. Luckily, despite Ness¡¯s last-minute bout of cold feet, her superhuman amount of foresight and social paranoia had reminded her to don her swimwear before coming to class so she¡¯d avoid having to go through the changing rooms with the other students. It¡¯s not that she was a prude or anything, it¡¯s just that what if she did something wrong? What if she went through the wrong door or used the wrong cubby or said something wrong? The embarrassment would probably kill her on the spot and the premature end of her life would also signal the end of her dream of becoming a venerated Mariner.

    All 24 of the students were marshalled in a neat line at the edge of the lake next to the diving school. It was the first day for everyone and multiple pairs of eyes apprehensively tracked the retreating gaggle of gossiping mothers move down the dusty path leading away from the school. Then, they met their instructor, who looked like he¡¯d just stepped out of some legendary surfer story. He had short blonde hair, was super fit, sported only a pair of swimming shorts, and had some weird tan lines on his shoulders and hips which Ness suspected were from extended usage of a diving respirator. Then he enthusiastically introduced himself.

    ¡°Heeellllooo new students! I¡¯m glad you¡¯re all here today! I¡¯m Kevanton but you can call me Kev for short. Now before we get started, I¡¯d like everyone to quickly introduce themselves to their neighbors, and then we¡¯ll go over some quick safety rules. Go!¡±

    Ness had planned for just this scenario. By carefully positioning herself at the end of the line, she only had one neighbor and would be able to make a quick escape should it be required. She thought to herself, truly, I am a strategic genius. Or at least that¡¯s what she was thinking until the boy next to her turned (after he¡¯d interrogated his other neighbor) and said ¡°Hi I¡¯m Lynn. What¡¯s your name?¡± Being caught slightly off guard, it took Ness a second to respond, ¡°I¡¯m Ness¡± and then she gave the boy a quick once-over.

    This ¡®Lynn¡¯ was probably just about her age, slightly taller than her, and had short dark black hair. He also wasn¡¯t very tan, and his skin didn¡¯t look like he¡¯d spent a significant amount of time outdoors getting scratched up by thorny plants and rough rocks like Ness¡¯ did. Ness disapproved with a slight frown. Just as Lynn¡¯s mouth opened, probably to ask some silly question, Kev clapped his hands together and commanded, ¡°Alright, listen up and gather up kids¡± while he motioned the class into a small lecture semi-circle. Then, he started to lecture.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re all itching to hop into the lake right about now but first some safety rules.¡± This elicited a groan from the class, but Kev forged on, ¡°Now for this class it¡¯s required that you know how to swim, and I¡¯m gonna tempt fate here and assume you all can. If you can¡¯t, well, I¡¯ll know that very soon.¡± Here Kev paused briefly and made sure to make eye contact with every new student.

    ¡°The big safety rule is that if you see someone drowning or who looks like they¡¯re in trouble, DON¡¯T try to help them. Someone that¡¯s struggling will just pull you down with them. Instead, call for ME and I¡¯ll help them. That¡¯s why I¡¯m the instructor and you¡¯re the students. I¡¯m trained to rescue people; you bunch are not.¡± He paused again for emphasis, trying to make sure his instruction had sunk in. The impatience of the students to jump into the cool blue was almost palpable and Kev savored it, dragging out his pause to see how far he could push it. Finally, Lynn couldn¡¯t hold it anymore and burst out ¡°Can we go in the water now!?¡± and with a wicked smile Kev concluded the lecture with ¡°and now that you mention it, Lynn here wants us to go in the water, so why don¡¯t we do what he says and get in a good warmup?¡± After a short pause, he raised his voice to a commanding bellow, ¡°EVERYBODY SWIM ACROSS THE LAKE AND BACK FIVE TIMES LETS GO, GO, GO!¡±This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    With little encouragement needed for the class, the mob of students splashed into the lake and transitioned to swimming once the water got too deep to wade through easily. Sure, it wasn¡¯t a race but most of the class treated it like one¡ªat least for the first lap across the lake. Then it became a real slog. Neither Ness nor Lynn were particularly strong swimmers, but they were both ahead of the curve when it came to swimming proficiency.

    With little regard for pacing and conserving their energy, most of the class was burnt out after lap 3 and when the first of the finishers slowly struggled their way out of the lake and flopped down into the coarse lakeside sand, Kev was ready for them with a knowing grin and another lecture.

    ¡°One of the most important things you bunch need to learn as divers is conserving your energy¡± Kev said, then continued, ¡°can someone tell me what ¡®conserving your energy¡¯ means here?¡± None of the students raised their hands so Kev had to choose someone at random. Luckily, Ness¡¯ supreme foresight had once again prepared her for this situation, and she¡¯d been able to sit down somewhere where she wouldn¡¯t be able to make eye contact with Kev. If Kev can¡¯t see me, he obviously won¡¯t be able to pick me to answer a question.

    Kev picked the boy with short red hair right in front of Ness (phew, harpoon dodged there) who then proceeded to stammer out something that was too quiet for anyone to make out clearly. Kev had, despite the inaudibility of the boy¡¯s response, apparently been satisfied continued with ¡°That¡¯s right¡ªBrian is it? ¡ªconserving your energy means being careful of how much you exhaust yourselves. For example, if I know I need to swim 10 laps, I wouldn¡¯t swim the first lap as fast as I can, because then I¡¯d be too tired to finish the rest of the laps. This is also important when you want to hold your breath underwater. If your heartrate is too high¡ªif you¡¯re too exhausted¡ªyou won¡¯t be able to hold your breath for as long as you could if you¡¯re relaxed and calm.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s try something quick, we¡¯re going to measure our heartbeats.¡± Here Kev held out his right hand with his index and middle fingers extended, ¡°Everyone do this with their hands and then hold it to your neck like so.¡± Kev demonstrated to the class how he pushed his two fingers gently up into his jaw and against his carotid artery. ¡°Once you¡¯ve got your fingers there, you should be able to feel your heartbeat. If anyone can¡¯t, raise your hand now and I¡¯ll help you out.¡± Several hands raised and Kev made his way to the students, gently readjusting their hands to the proper position.

    ¡°Now you should all be able to feel your heartbeat. The speed at which your heart beats is called your ¡®pulse¡¯. Typically, when you¡¯re resting, relaxed or sleeping, your heart rate is around 60 beats per minute or around the same speed as a ticking clock. Now since we¡¯re all relaxed, your pulses should all be around that speed.¡± Here Kev received several nods from the gathered crowd. Kev continued onwards, ¡°Now we¡¯re all going to hold our breath and see how long you can hold it and when you can¡¯t hold your breath anymore, you¡¯ll raise your hand.¡± Here Kev let his gaze sweep quickly across the group of students, ¡°Ready?¡± and without waiting for an answer, ¡°Start!¡±.

    Here, a large collective gasp of air was taken in by the students and then there was silence, only interrupted occasionally by the splash of a fish in the water or the sounds of the jungle nearby. Every half a minute, Kev called out the amount of time that had elapsed and once the four-minute mark had been passed, only around half the class remained. Soon afterwards, most other students succumbed to their desire for fresh oxygen and let out big gasps of air as they raised their hands to signal, they¡¯d given up. Ness held on as long as she could and soon it was only her and Lynn left without their hands raised.

    Ness wouldn¡¯t give in. She had to show this pale boy and the rest of the class that she was a force to be reckoned with. Then, just as her lungs were screaming loudly for fresh air and the more animal part of her brain was insisting that she could just open her mouth and take a breath of the fresh air outside, she saw Lynn gasp and raise his hand in a surrender. Victory was hers. Just to make sure, she waited an extra hand of seconds before she too gave up and gave a mighty gasp full of fresh, rejuvenating air.

    Kev clapped his hands and exclaimed ¡°Good job students! For a first time, that wasn¡¯t all too bad. Ness over there made it an entire 5 minutes, however there are several tricks that I¡¯ll teach you so that you¡¯ll be able to stay under longer. Three months from now, you¡¯ll all be able to hold your breaths for at least 10 minutes still and 5 minutes while swimming.¡±

    The rest of the lesson proceeded in a similar manner. Kev alternated between physical exercise, both on land and off, and theoretical tips and short stories about dives he¡¯d done. At the end of his class, when the sun had just touched the edge of the ridgeline, he concluded his lesson, ¡°Alright kids, that¡¯s it for this week! I¡¯ll see you all next week. Have a good weekend! Bye!¡± With the approaching conclusion of the lesson, parents had started filtering in to escort their charges back from their first diving lesson and now they swooped in, interrogating children and leading them home. Everyone¡¯s parents except for Lynn¡¯s that is.

 Chapter 4: Its a Water Game!

    Lynn

    ¡°Come on Ness, you should totally do it!¡± Lynn implored. ¡°Well maybe¡­¡± Ness meekly responded but Lynn was having none of it. Three years had passed since their first lesson in diving school together, and Ness and Lynn had become unlikely fast friends. Because of this, Lynn knew Ness well. First, he knew that she was good. Although she didn¡¯t always put in the effort, it was clear to him that she could compete at the highest level in their age bracket. Occasionally, she¡¯d let it slip when she casually out-swam or out-dived anyone in class. Secondly, he knew that she was something of a coward. Well not quite a coward. He corrected himself. Ness didn¡¯t shy from physical adversity or danger (unlike him) but when it came to evading social confrontations of any sort, she was a veritable escape artist.

    Still, it¡¯s what¡¯s best for her. ¡°No Ness, we¡¯re signing up right now, together.¡± Lynn¡¯s tone brooked no argument. Reluctantly, Ness let herself be dragged along to the small gathering of other similar-aged kids. Lynton¡¯s socially adept eyes rapidly scanned the small crowd, located targets, and sorted them. Typical teams are six people, Ness and I are already two, so we need at least four more. Now, how about roles¡­ Lynn tried to recall what he¡¯d read about the Junior League and what he remembered from watching previous competitions. Since in our age bracket we aren¡¯t dealing with any of the specialized combat trials, we should probably focus on teamwork rather than optimal skill. Decision made; Lynn reviewed who he¡¯d seen in the crowd. Who would work well on a team?

    His eyes locked on Millie. She¡¯d be a good fit, I guess. I think she even knows Ness from her school. Lynn approached and dragged Ness along. ¡°Hey Millie, do you have a team yet?¡± Lynn asked. Millie, who¡¯d been looking around quite lost, immediately perked up, ¡°Nope, are you inviting me?¡± she said with a cheerful smile. ¡°Sure thing, welcome to the team!¡± Lynn said, and then they resumed their hunt for teammates. The trio began small talk, which involved mostly Millie explaining who couldn¡¯t be on their team. In short order, he managed to get together three others who were hadn¡¯t found a team yet. Luckily, they all met to Millie¡¯s requirements, primarily that they ¡°weren¡¯t any of the Barns brothers¡± or ¡°total jerk faces¡±.

    Alex was probably the male equivalent to Millie¡ªa total chatterbox¡ªbut a strong swimmer. Ness and Lynn both knew him from diving school. The other two, Joseph and Jannette, were twins and only Lynn knew them from his school. He vouched for them and they were both excited to be on a team with Lynn. Gathering the little group together, Lynn started to herd them towards the registration desk. There, an older man with a wicked scar and a younger man who appeared to be a secretary sat.

    ¡°We¡¯d like to register as a team, Sir¡± Lynton spoke as they were nonverbally addressed by the secretary¡¯s gaze. ¡°Your names please¡± he commanded, and the children gave their names. Only on Lynton¡¯s full name did the old man with the scar seem to pay any attention at all¡ªotherwise he looked rather bored by the proceedings. Once all names had been recorded, the secretary launched into a speech he¡¯d clearly memorized by rote

    ¡°Welcome contestants, to the annual juniors league competition, year 603. As you are all doubtlessly familiar with the nature of the competition, I will not bore you with the details now. Instead, I will briefly highlight the special rules that apply only to the junior¡¯s league. First, there will be no live combat trials and all challenges are designed to place contestants in minimal, yet acceptable risk. Secondly, unlike in the official competition, your parents or guardians reserve the right to withdraw you from competing or to bar you from certain events should they so wish so. Finally, we¡¯d like to remind our young contestants that although the junior league approximates the full Triumvirate¡¯s Competition and there are prizes to win, the most important goals for contestants your age should be to better yourselves as individuals and to have fun.¡± Papers were shuffled. ¡°Now, welcome team #82 and from this point on, you are officially registered for the Junior League Triumvirate Competition. We¡¯re excited to see you at the competition in six months. Good luck.¡±

    While the speech had probably been designed to be read by a bubbly or enthusiastic presenter, this secretary¡¯s oration didn¡¯t pack the punch. Still, the little team was excited and all clutching their little signed slips that verified they¡¯d been registered. Team 82 moved out of the bumbling crowd of their peers who were still hunting for teammates, and the group fell into comfortable idle chatter. Lynn looked over at Ness and smiled to himself. Looks like she¡¯s losing her shyness. He¡¯d done this before with Ness¡ªbreaking the awkwardness. Even when she warmed up to someone, she never reached Millie-levels of chatterbox but still. Progress.

    Lynn led the little group sat down in a to a small copse of trees of trees near the gathered crowd. Then, he looked around the group. Damn it. Looks like I¡¯m the leader for now. Lynn hated leading people. Something had to be done though, so he raised his voice and said, ¡°Alright team 82, lets make a plan¡±. Then, chaos ensued. Everyone started talking at once, even Ness. It took quite a while for them to get back on track and organize a training plan. Getting ready for the competition was serious business after all.

    ¡°So, we all agree we should meet tomorrow, at the training field next to Sedgerich Lake?¡± Lynn asked the group. Looking around, everyone nodded. They¡¯d finally all agreed on a time and place. Now, everyone just had to show up tomorrow. ¡°Alright, and who wants to plan our first training session?¡± Lynn asked. At first, nobody volunteered, but then, to Lynn¡¯s surprise, Ness volunteered. ¡°I¡¯ll prepare something¡± she said with conviction. ¡°Alright, good. I¡¯ll see you all tomorrow then.¡± Lynn said and the group got up and began to disperse. Goodbyes were exchanged and everyone started to head into different directions. Catching up with Ness, Lynn fell into step beside her.

    ¡°You sure that you can figure out something for us to train tomorrow?¡± Lynn asked.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Yeah¡± Ness replied.

    ¡°Wow, you¡¯re confident. Let me know if you need any help.¡±

    ¡°Sure, it¡¯ll be fine though. I¡¯ve already know where to start.¡±

    Then, the pair arrived at a fork and Ness took the right. ¡°Bye Lynn!¡± she shouted as she hurried off. ¡°See ya tomorrow!¡± Lynn shouted back before beginning to trudge back to the Declan Household. Overall, he was happy with how the day had gone. He¡¯d been able to find a team with at least some competent people and there hadn¡¯t been any infighting in the group yet. Lessons on working in a group had been one of the few things his father had personally tutored him in. For example, his father assured him that working with groups was both a blessing and curse. A good team could accomplish great things while a bad team could any progress as quickly as it was made. He hated that he¡¯d fallen into the leadership role though. Not that he was bad at leading for his age, it¡¯s just that it reminded him too much of what his father did, and what his father wanted him to do. He didn¡¯t want to tell people what to do, just as he didn¡¯t like being told what to do.

    <hr>

    The following day, team 82 converged in the training field that they¡¯d picked the day before. Obviously, they hadn¡¯t been the only team to pick this place, but it was still rather empty. The large grassy surface was still wet with dew from the morning and footprints were clearly visible where foot-traffic had bent the blades of grass down. Besides Lynn, Ness, Millie, and Alex, there appeared to be a couple other teams of around their age scattered about. Some were already busy, doing physical workouts or sitting in a circle and discussing secret strategies or something.

    Lynn spied the twins¡¯ approach and then they were complete. A quick round of good mornings and good-natured grumbling later, Lynn gestured to Ness. ¡°Alright Ness, you prepared something for us to train today?¡±. Ness nodded, and retrieved a small, palm-sized brown book. She opened it, apparently read some of it, nodded to herself, and then looked up. ¡°So, last night I asked my dad about the competition and¡­¡± Ness cut off as she saw nervous glances flying around their small groups, ¡°¡­Oh don¡¯t worry guys. I asked him and read over the rules again. We¡¯re not allowed to have a ¡®coach¡¯ or ¡®trainer¡¯ but we can get advice if it¡¯s not directly ¡®strategic¡¯ in nature, whatever that means.¡± The group looked relieved.

    Lynn was relieved too. In truth, he didn¡¯t know the rules of the competition all that well but one of its cornerstones was non-interference. Adults, parents, or whoever weren¡¯t allowed to help any contestants train or tell them what to do. In theory, this was supposed to prevent parents getting involved in the competition too much and instead keep the challenge of the competition resting on the shoulders of those competing. In practice, Lynn knew, in some of the highly competitive teams, like those founded by children of the people his father associated with, this was more of a guideline rather than strict rule.

    Ness continued. ¡°I read through the rules again last evening summarized it all together a bit, just so that we can prepare better. I also reviewed some of the things that past competitors wrote, and I found the notes I took at last year¡¯s competition.¡± Hold on, Lynn thought, Ness took notes at last year¡¯s competition!? In retrospect, he did remember her sitting in the stands scribbling away at something but now that he knew she¡¯d been taking notes, he marveled at her foresight. ¡°Now, even though you guys might already know these, I¡¯ll go through the basics of the competition, especially the junior league, again¡±. The next half-hour, while long-winded, wasn¡¯t boring to any of Ness¡¯s attentive audience.

    First, the primary difference between the Junior League version of the Triumvirate Competition and the non-Junior League version was that in the Junior League, the team would never directly compete against an opponent. Instead, they focused on scoring points, and at the end of the competition, the team with the highest amount of points would win. In order to win, one had to qualify for the finals and then in the finals, the team had to score the most points. The qualifiers were much easier, and simply automatically qualified the top 10 percent of teams. Teams did have the chance to attend more than one qualifier but typically only three at a most were schedulable for a single team.

    To score points, challenges had to be completed. These challenges were created by a small council of competition judges and were kept hidden three months before the first qualifier. Additionally, points could be scored through a rating system developed by the judges. To contestants, especially first time-teams like Team 82, this rating system was somewhat esoteric and purposefully kept hidden from the competitors. Still, from the hits Ness¡¯s father had dropped, the judged points seemed to be mostly based on teamwork capabilities and clever problem solving.

    The actual challenge that would be released in three months was somewhat hard to guess beforehand but it was still possible to prepare for it. Ness talked about how she¡¯d found different types of challenge that were typically given and occasionally challenges would repeat. In general, the challenges were always aimed at recreating problems that they might have to face as adults. For example, ¡°search-and-rescue¡± challenges were always popular. Sometimes underwater, sometimes on land, and sometimes on both, these involved the team being required to find lost and ¡°injured¡± individuals and recommending to the judges how to best care for them. Other times, the challenges were a race against time. For example, last year, teams were given broken paddleboats and a racecourse marked out by buoys. The challenge had been to figure out how to repair the boat and then complete the course as fast as possible.

    ¡°In general, most challenges involve a physical part. We¡¯ll need to swim, dive, run, paddle, or do something that requires us to be fit. Then there¡¯s the team part. All challenges are designed to be almost impossible for an individual to do and we need to be able to work together and communicate quickly. Finally, there¡¯s the intelligence part. Sometimes, it¡¯s medical, sometimes it¡¯s more construction focused. We might have to diagnose and tend to ¡°survivors¡± or we might have to patch up a broken boat with scrap parts.¡± Ness concluded her explanation.

    Alex, eyes wide, asked ¡°So we¡¯re all going to need to be experts at everything?¡±

    ¡°Well, no¡± Ness said, ¡°Typically teams divide up into roles and they choose one person to practice first aid, one person to practice ship-maintenance, one person to practice navigation, and so on.¡±

    Next Lynn spoke up, ¡°So what do we do now? We won¡¯t know what the challenge actually is for another three months.¡±

    ¡°Well, I think the physical part is a good place to start¡± Ness said as an evil smile started to creep across her face. Uh-oh. Ness spoke, imitating instructor Kev, ¡°How about we swim some laps to get warmed up?¡± Lynn and Alex groaned as countless memories of borderline sadistic diving school ¡®warmup¡¯ sessions came to mind. Ness in a leadership position might not be such a good idea after all, Lynn thought as team 82 moved to the lake and started their training process. It¡¯s gonna be a long six months.

 Chapter 5: Rules, Regulations, and Rigmarole

    Ness

    The mix of nervousness, excitement, and anticipation that was coursing through Ness was unique. She hadn¡¯t felt it before. Sure, she¡¯d taken difficult tests in school¡ªtests with grades that would follow her for a lifetime¡ªand she¡¯d completed the arduous trials that were the diving school¡¯s certification exams. Nothing like this though. Today was the first qualifier in the JLTC and her team was ready. Right? Ness raised her hand to her eye level and gazed at it. It wasn¡¯t fluttering or shaking. Ness took that as a good sign.

    Before her was the breakfast that her father had made for her. He¡¯d known just what to cook: high in calories but low in weight. She¡¯d need the energy today. Being weighed down by too much food is such a beginner¡¯s mistake, Ness thought as she consumed the thinly sliced and fried fish strips along with a healthy portion of rich fruits. Her father, ever the wise man, had insisted she go to sleep early last night, and it¡¯d been the right call. Even after darkness had fallen, Ness hadn¡¯t been able to sleep until late in the night.

    Ness reflected on the past six months and the training she¡¯d done with her team. The big surprise, looking back, was that it really was her team. Lynn¡¯s relentless efforts at dodging responsibility had eventually fastened the crown of leadership firmly on her head. She wasn¡¯t angry, but, in the beginning, it had been somewhat confusing where Lynn¡¯s aversion to leadership came from. Now, she knew, if not exactly: It had something to do with his family. Anytime it was mentioned, he¡¯d grow evasive and uncomfortable. Nobody¡¯d pressed him on an answer.

    Anyways, back to the competition. Ness looked down at her plate and found it empty. It was time to go. Her team had a morning slot, one in the first batch. With thirty new teams attending this qualifier, it was going to be an all-day event. Each team had forty-five minutes to attempt to complete the given challenge. Then, there would be a 15-minute judging session where judges could ask teams about their strategy or question their decision-making process. Finally, points would be determined, and the next team would be allowed to compete. With thirty teams, five concurrent challenges, and one-hour rounds, it would take about six hours to get through every team. Then, points would be compared, and three winners would be declared. Those three would be allowed to move on to higher levels of the competition.

    Ness stopped herself. She knew all these details, why was she reviewing them now? The important thing was that her team had one of the first slots, so they needed to get going now. Ness checked that she had her things, and then, along with her father, she left the house.

    <hr>

    Finding her team wasn¡¯t difficult, and Ness noted that the others looked about as nervous as she felt. Lynn was looking nervously at their competition, Millie and Joseph were chatting with a forced idleness, and Alex was going through some stretching routine. Janette though: She looks¡­ completely calm? Ness only had a moment to wonder about this though as the loud blare of the head judge¡¯s horn cut through the murmuring assembled crowd of teams.

    ¡°Attention competitors. On behalf of today¡¯s judging team, event organizers, and the Triumvirate council itself, we¡¯d like to welcome you to the first qualifier for the Junior¡¯s League Triumvirate competition year 603. I¡¯m Magister Gallegan, assigned by the council itself to run today¡¯s competition and before we start reviewing some of the logistical details for today, I have a couple of opening remarks.¡±

    ¡°First and foremost, I¡¯d like to mention how proud I am of all you gathered here today. This competition is not easy. It is, in fact, designed to be impossible to achieve a perfect score. This is like life, where improvement is always possible. For you¡ªtomorrow¡¯s generation¡ªthis competition is designed to challenge you and help you reach your full potential.¡±

    ¡°Secondly: Although this is a competition, I¡¯d like everyone to remember that other teams are to be treated with respect. Cheating, or otherwise subverting the spirit of the competition isn¡¯t just dishonorable, it also hurts our people as a whole. Winning is important but doing so by pushing others under the waves is against the very essence of what it means to live on our island.¡±

    ¡°Now, my assistant will review some of the logistical details and we¡¯ll get this competition started in around half an hour.¡± With those last words, a smattering of applause rose from the assembled crowd before the assistant stepped up to the podium. The wiry man had a large ream of paper and started to read off rules, regulations, and procedures. At first, Ness listened attentively, along with the rest of her team. Slowly though, she grew confused. Was this supposed to be a joke? All the things which were being read were obvious. Rules, regulations, and procedure for the competition which had been available to teams for months. Hadn¡¯t they been expected to know the rules before showing up to compete?

    Ness looked around. Her team, like her, had expressions somewhere in between boredom and confusion. Looking around revealed a different picture though: the four-person team sitting in the dirt just left of Ness¡¯s team was paying rapt attention, as if this assistant were espousing some fundamental secrets about the nature of the world. Didn¡¯t they read the rules? Are we missing something? Ness didn¡¯t get long to think about these questions, as the speech came to an end. The assistant gave a couple last remarks, and the entire crowd of over 100 others rose and started to mill about.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    Team #82 knew where to go: they were in the first time slot and assigned to the third challenge area. As they walked, Ness decided to quickly quiz her team on the strategies they¡¯d hashed out over the last three months.

    ¡°Alright, what are the three phases of the challenge¡­ Lynn?¡± she asked.

    Lynn, somewhat exasperated, looked at Ness and said, ¡°Do we really have to do this now? We all know the plan, we¡¯ve practiced, and reviewing for thirty seconds now won¡¯t do us any good.¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine¡± Ness said nervously. This wasn¡¯t really the place for last minute cramming. Still, she couldn¡¯t help it and started mentally reviewing their plan.

    First, recovery. We use a standard snag-line search to try to find the sunken light-tower. If the line doesn¡¯t catch, we switch over to a switchback swim-line search and check the lakebed more closely. Once we¡¯ve located the light-tower, we split into two teams. Alex, Lynn, and I do the diving, recover the pieces of the tower, and the twins and Millie ferry the supplies to shore.

    Second, reconstruction. We all pitch in, and Joseph leads the construction effort. Jannette and Alex are responsible for fetching any additional supplies we need and Lynn¡¯s responsible for lining up the optics on the glowstone. Anyone who¡¯s not busy at that moment works on building some oars.

    Finally, redeployment. We all heave the constructed tower into the water, make sure it floats, and fix anything that breaks. Then, I navigate us to the deployment spot on the map and we all grab a rope or an oar and pull or paddle the tower into place. Then, Alex and I dive down to anchor it while Lynn and the rest preform any last-minute fixes.

    Of course, getting all these tasks done in their allotted 45 minutes was optimistically possible. The team had been able to complete every part individually in under 15 minutes, but they¡¯d only been able to complete the challenge in under 45 minutes once in one of their practice sessions. Additionally, some parts, like the recovery phase, were very variable in the amount of time it took to complete them. You could get lucky and bump into the sunken tower on your first dive, or the water could be so opaque that it took you an hour just to find the damn thing.

    The team arrived at their cordoned off competition area. Ahead of them was the lake and long ropes supported by small floaters demarcated the area that they¡¯d need to search. It was big. On the shore with them was a small prepared pile of miscellaneous supplies for them to use, a small table with three chairs, and three judges shuffling papers. On that table, there was also the waterclock. Cheap, easy to make, but still accurate, it counted time by slowly filling a tall cylinder with water. Small lines marked off the minutes and anyone standing within a couple meters of the table could easily read it. Ness was glad. Tracking time during their practice sessions had always been a pain. Usually, she¡¯d made do with a sundial or listening to the distant chiming of the bells. Once, Lynn had borrowed a mechanical timepiece from his house, but it hadn¡¯t really been helpful. Sure, it kept time accurately, but it had been so distracting that everyone except for Lynn had been enraptured by the fine machinery. That training session had been a complete wash.

    One of the judges told them that they¡¯d be ¡°ready in a moment¡± and the team started to look at what they¡¯d been given. The rules stated they couldn¡¯t go in the water or touch their supplies before the time started, but they said nothing about just having a look. Ness quickly spotted a rope that they could use for their snag-line search and the tube which probably contained the map of where they¡¯d need to redeploy the light tower.

    Of course, an actual light-tower would never be placed in a lake. They were mostly used to mark dangerous reefs or other watercraft-damaging underwater features. Light-towers were valuable and expensive¡ªespecially the glowstone at the core of the tower. The fist-sized crystalline chunk would be of a high grade and very bright when fully charged. Recovering and repairing a tower which had fallen beneath the waves was something that they might have to do as adults.

    The middle judge, who was wearing a nice hat, cleared his throat and addressed the team. Then the panel of judges introduced themselves. After that, there came an awkward silence. So, do we get started now? Ness looked to the water clock, expecting one of the judges to open the valve and start their 45 minutes. Then, Ness felt a nudge from Lynn and heard him whisper ¡°introduce us¡±. Oh right. Damn. The team leader wasn¡¯t just the person who set the course, they were also the one who did things like introductions and talking to people. Well as team leader, she had to grab the rope and bear the burn.

    ¡°Uh, yes, w-we are Team #82¡± Ness spoke nervously.

    ¡°Just #82? No name?¡± Hat-judge questioned; eyebrow raised.

    Ness mentally cursed herself. How could we miss something so fundamental? No team name? What will the other teams think of us? Ness thought a bit more, never mind no team name; it won¡¯t matter anyways. With an auspicious start like this we won¡¯t get on any leaderboards. Lynn nudged her again.

    ¡°Uh, no, just #82. Sir.¡±

    ¡°Very well, team #82, how about you introduce yourselves.¡± The judge spoke.

    Ness wracked her mind. Introductions. What would be appropriate? Ah, I¡¯ve got it! He¡¯s asking for team roles. Luckily, that was something that Ness could convincingly invent on the spot, unlike a team name.

    Ness started with herself and then motioned to her teammates in turn, ¡°Well, my name is Ness, and I¡¯m the team leader. Joseph is our construction and optics expert. Millie is our medical expert. Alex presides over our underwater operations. Janette handles navigation and does construction, and finally, Lynton handles land operations and dives too.¡±

    There, that sounded suitably officious. Judging by the judge¡¯s expressions, they too were satisfied and the one on the left, who constantly fiddled with a pen, started listing off a couple basic rules. They were mostly repeating, again, but Ness and the team paid attention. Then, the fateful question was asked. ¡°So, team #82 are you ready to begin?¡± Ness felt as if she should adopt a sprinter¡¯s pose, ready to spring into action but she suppressed the urge. Instead, she just said ¡°yes¡± and without great ceremony, one of the judges turned the valve and water began to drip into the tall tube.

    For a moment, team #82 just looked at each other. Then it sunk in. This is it. Almost simultaneously all six team members began to move, and most of Ness¡¯s worries evaporated. Introductions, ceremony, and long rule-readings? She hadn¡¯t been prepared for that. Actually completing the challenge? Yes, she and her team had prepared. We can do this.

 Chapter 6: That was easy?

    Lynn

    Lynn was still stunned. Seconds before, he¡¯d been trying to console Ness and keep team spirits up despite what had seemed to be a major loss. Personally, winning or losing wasn¡¯t important to Lynn. Well that¡¯s not completely true, he thought, I would rather win than lose but it wouldn¡¯t kill me to fail completely. He mostly competed because it gave him an excuse to hang out with his friends in an environment that wasn¡¯t only unsupervised, it was one where adult supervision was explicitly against the rules. Also, and it pained him to admit it, doing well in the JLTC looked good on applications for prestigious positions in future careers. I¡¯m starting to think like my father, Lynn thought with distaste.

    Ness, not quite his opposite but close, was absolutely driven by competition. Her usual social awkwardness didn¡¯t communicate this well and made her rather non-confrontational but once she sunk her teeth into a challenge, she never let go. This had been clearly shown during their preparations for this competition. Sure, they¡¯d all pitched in and helped, but they¡¯d mostly been dancing to Ness¡¯s tune and her ideas. She was the one who ran team practice, prepared meticulous notes, and had studied the JLTC¡¯s rulebook with an almost religious fanaticism. If only she studied with that intensity in school, she¡¯d make quite the Scholar. Ness was hit the hardest when they¡¯d seemingly done so poorly.

    Everything started out just fine. Team 82 found the rope among the prepared supplies, readied their drag-line search formation, and then started scouring the lakebed for the sunken structure. Then, the problems had started. First, the water was murky. Never a good start, but easy to deal with. The team had even practiced scenarios for low-visibility conditions and the drag-line search method was designed to work specifically in without the need for visuals. Ideally, everyone would grab the long rope, swim parallel to the lakebed, and wait for the rope to get snagged on the protruding structure of the tower. The problem was that it just didn¡¯t work. They¡¯d canvassed their assigned slice of the lake multiple times and the line never caught on anything except for large boulders and other underwater detritus.

    The team had started to get worried around the 20-minute mark on the glass timer. Also, they¡¯d begun to flag a bit. Lynn, Alex, and Ness were still fine as long dives and intense physical activity were nothing new to them but the other three were starting to grow weary. At the thirty-minute mark, Ness made the executive decision to abandon the drag-line search. Instead, they started visually searching in a rope-enforced radial pattern. This way, they wouldn¡¯t miss anything at the cost of being significantly slower.

    At the thirty-minute mark, Ness had emerged from the depths, glowstone in hand. Now able to revert to what they¡¯d practiced, the team tried to quickly retrieve the rest of the objective. This, too, wasn¡¯t as simple as expected. The reason that the structure hadn¡¯t caught on the dragline was that it had submerged itself deeply into the muck at the bottom of the lake. When the timer finally filled to the brim, they¡¯d just barely managed to get all the lake-slime-covered bits and pieces out of the lake and Joseph had started to organize a construction effort. Team #82 was convinced that they¡¯d failed miserably. After all, retrieving the structure from the lake was only step one in their three-step plan. They¡¯d only just started repairs and were still a while off from redeploying the structure.

    The judges¡¯ interview had been so-so. They hadn¡¯t seemed surprised at how far from completion team #82 was at the end. Ness, despite being distraught at having gotten so little done, still answered the questions that the judges asked. Nobody else had spoken up when questions were asked. In retrospect, we might¡¯ve gotten more teamwork points if more of us contributed instead of letting Ness answer everything.

    Dejectedly, the team returned to the staging area, hugged some parents, and settled in to wait till the other teams were done. Some sulked, like Ness. She disappeared rather quickly with her notebook and vague mentions about ¡°next qualifier¡±. Others, like Alex, spearheaded a recreational kickball game with those who¡¯d already competed or who weren¡¯t up yet. Lynn had also let himself get distracted from their ¡°loss¡± and only returned to the melancholy mood when Ness returned, just in time for winners to be announced.

    That¡¯s when things got weird. Ness had been whispering that they might as well go home since they obviously didn¡¯t win anything anyways while a self-important announcer gave a speech. Then, the moment of truth had come: Scores. Of course, in the ever-dramatic fashion of any competitive event, the third-place winner was announced first. It wasn¡¯t them. Obviously. Then, the announcer had listed off the second-place winner as being Team #82. Light snickering flowed through the assembly at the silly team name and none of team #82 knew what to do.

    A moment of stunned sitting followed. Then, Ness took the initiative. Winning teams were supposed to come to the front. She¡¯d motioned them all to stand and then they¡¯d all walked up to the ¡°stage¡±. Applause rose from the masses and they just stood there. Slowly, the rolling applause became more scattered and Lynn noticed that they were expected to do something. Only what¡­ he thought as he craned his neck around. The third-place team had already taken a position to the right of the head judge and his two lackeys. Are we supposed to take the left side and leave the center for the winners? He looked to Ness, but she wasn¡¯t paying any attention. Oh, damn, she¡¯s noticed the crowd.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    With his practiced attention-getting-but-discrete-shove, he gave Ness a little push and angled his head towards where they were presumably supposed to stand. Ness, in turn, tore her eyes away from the no longer clapping mass of people and after a brief look of confusion followed comprehension, strode confidently over to the second-place winner¡¯s spot. There, she ushered them all into a line, mirroring the third placers. With team #82 in the proper place, the ceremony went on.

    ¡°And now before we announce our first-place winner, we¡¯d like to thank several people for helping make today¡­.¡± The announcer spoke, much to the chagrin of the crowd.

    Lynn knew what was going on. This person¡ªthis bureaucrat¡ªwas clearly cut from the same cloth as his father: Loved speaking in front of people, was self-important, and was probably getting some kick out of making over a hundred children wait apprehensively for him to thank this organizer and that councilmember.

    When the first-place winners were finally announced, Lynn was surprised that he recognized the name. Hearing the team name, the ¡°Perkelly Boys¡±, fanned flames of anger inside him. Seeing them stand up and walk to the front just intensified his mixed feelings. Three of five team members were scions of the Perkelly house. Wearing clean white shirts with sleeves neatly rolled up finely pressed brown pants with reinforced knees, their outfit was the epitome of the refined, yet competent competitor.

    The Perkelly Boys walked up through the crowd, shook hands with the judges, and then assumed the middle spot under thunderous applause. Self-consciously, Lynn looked down. He was still wearing the shorts that he¡¯d worn during the competition, long since dried, and a simple blue sleeveless shirt with a three-button placket. His whole team had worn blue shirts, due to Ness¡¯s insistence on ¡°team unity¡± whatever that means. Despite their somewhat coordinated look, standing so close to the impeccably dressed first-place team, he felt inadequate.

    He¡¯d been to dinners at the Perkelly house before¡ªand hell¡ªhe was in the same class as the Perkelly twins. They were the definition of privilege and arrogance. They were the type of people that Lynn preferred to avoid. They were why he hadn¡¯t told his father that team selection was happening, and why his father had been disappointed when Lynn told him that he¡¯d already found a team. If my father had his way, I¡¯d be up there right now.

    Lynn sighed. He could already hear his father¡¯s voice in his head: ¡°Now Lynton, if you¡¯d taken my advice and listened to your betters, you could¡¯ve earned the first place along with those Perkelly kids.¡± Then, Lynton imagined his father sighing and continuing with something like, ¡°Second place? No, that won¡¯t do, that won¡¯t do at all, especially for a Declan child.¡± Then, he¡¯d doubtlessly be burden Lynn with heaps of extra homework.

    All this thinking about what could¡¯ve been and what will probably happen soon reminded him of how he¡¯d been feeling just a moment ago: angry. Lynn narrowed his eyes and looked at the Perkelly Boys critically. From school, he knew that the twins were a joke. Their main skills were harassing others and evading punishment by mentioning their father. Lynn didn¡¯t know the older Perkelly brother well. He looked like a brute though. Clearly, he was responsible for completing the challenge and dragging the twins to victory. The other two were hard to place, but it was easy to guess what they were: hangers on. While they were wearing similar clothes as the three brothers, theirs weren¡¯t as fine or unrumpled. Probably on purpose. If he had to guess, these were probably from a lesser, but affiliated house which had been given the ¡°privilege¡± to have their offspring participate in such an elite team.

    There is no way the Perkelly Boys beat us fairly, Lynn thought, they must¡¯ve cheated somehow. What had they done? Gotten someone to coach their team? Paid off the judges to let the location of the sunken tower slip? Simply gotten lucky? Lynn turned to Ness, anger mostly suppressed from his face, and was about to ask her how she thought they¡¯d done it. Then he stopped. Ness wasn¡¯t angry, she was looking at the Perkelly Boys in¡­ admiration!? Lynn was briefly stunned before he realized, of course! Ness has no idea who these people are. She probably thinks they¡¯re simply better. He¡¯d have to set her right later.

    After the winners were announced, the ceremony ended rather quickly. The three winning teams were told they¡¯d qualified for the next level and everyone was given a small carved wooden token. After that, Ness¡¯s father had shown up with a large basket full of food and snacks. Team #82 found some shade and talked about the competition while enjoying a late lunch. Ness mostly got over the sudden shock of winning second place and was rapidly reevaluating their strategy and readjusting her expectations about their competition. Lynn didn¡¯t blame her. Who could¡¯ve known that completing only one third of the challenge was already enough to place them in the top 10% of all teams? If their next competition went as well as this one, then they already had a significant advantage over their competition. They¡¯d only need to keep up practicing, maybe refine their search strategies a bit, and then they¡¯d have it. First place was waiting for them, and with victor¡¯s tokens in hand and their newly gathered experience, it shouldn¡¯t be too difficult. Right?

 Chapter 7: Dreams shaken, not stirred

    Ness

    ¡°Come on you slowpoke!¡± Ness shouted to Lynn, ¡°Wasn¡¯t this your idea anyways?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah¡± Lynn grumbled back as he huffed deep breaths and followed Ness along the thin serpentine path uphill through the jungle. Ness sympathized a bit with Lynn¡¯s struggle, after all, it had been a long day for both. Still, the news she¡¯d gotten from her father right after the graduation ceremony instantly refilled the energy supplies that were eaten up by a long day of school officials giving speeches, students receiving important looking certificates, and teachers saying tearful goodbyes to the graduating class of 607. Lynn had invited her up to this specific scenic overlook and Ness thought it was a great idea. After all, we¡¯ll soon be embarking on a great adventure! More importantly, Lynn had mentioned he¡¯d procured a ¡°surprise¡± from his father¡¯s liquor cabinet.

    A handful of minutes later, the dense foliage broke up and the ground underfoot changed from the rich and dark jungle topsoil to solid, gray rock. Ten meters ahead was the sheer drop of a cliff, one of many on the island, and it faced west: perfect for watching the sun set over the ocean. Ness sat down, a couple meters from the edge and leaned against a small, sun-warmed boulder. Judging by the sun we¡¯ve got¡­ she stretched out her arm and measured the sun¡¯s distance to the horizon with her fingers, 15 minutes until the sun starts to set.

    Small pebbles and rocks crunched, and Ness looked to her left to see Lynn settling down in a similar spot. Looking at him now, she could still see the enthusiastic boy she¡¯d met all those years ago in diving school. As he looked onto the sea and the sun, a smile crossed his face, before he turned to her. Ness was looking at him expectantly.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see it Mr. Surprise¡± Ness said, and Lynn¡¯s smile transformed into a conspiratorial grin. He reached for his backpack, unclasped the straps, reached in, and paused.

    ¡°You sure you¡¯re ready?¡± Lynn asked with a mock-serious expression. She just rolled her eyes. Then, with a flourish, Lynn presented his prize: A short and squat bottle filled with a translucent white liquid. The bottle was clearly expensive, as thin rings of gold paint adorned it along with a finely drawn label. Even more telling were the small gold flakes suspended inside the liquid, now swirling about in a wild dance.

    Ness made an impressed whistle and commented, ¡°My, my, that¡¯s quite the catch there Mr. Declan, are you sure your father won¡¯t miss it?¡±

    ¡°Nah, no way. I swear, the ¡®great patriarch¡¯ has no clue of half the things in his basement.¡± Lynn lied while pouring out two glasses and proffering one to her. Ness accepted the glass and held it in her hand for a thoughtful moment, deciding on what she should toast to.

    ¡°To the future¡± Ness said, and Lynn echoed it back. Drinks clinked and each took a small sip. Ness was pleasantly surprised by the flavor. She was no stranger to harder drinks, but this was different. The strong, burning undertone of high proof alcohol was still there, but unlike the cheap stuff she¡¯d had at parties, this didn¡¯t immediately have her looking for something else to wash the flavor away with. She sighed appreciatively, and looked over the ocean, enjoying the companionable silence.

    Ness thought about her past; the things she¡¯d done. Diving school. Competing in the JLTC for four years, and almost winning the championship once. Acing all the important exams. Receiving her graduation diploma. It had all built up to today, today was the culmination of Ness¡¯s childhood. Tomorrow? Well tomorrow she¡¯d start living the dream.

    Now more serious, Ness readjusted her sitting position to face Lynn. He seems distracted, maybe caught up in his own introspection.

    ¡°Lynn?¡± Ness said. He turned towards her, briefly surprised at her serious expression before adopting a more nervous one himself.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to tell you something.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­?¡± Lynn said, now looking even more nervous.

    Ness paused, for dramatic effect, and then exclaimed, ¡°I¡¯ve been accepted into an officer-apprenticeship!¡±

    Lynn, who was completely blindsided, only managed to say, ¡°What?¡±

    Ness plowed onwards, heedless of Lynn¡¯s confusion, ¡°You¡¯ve been accepted into one, too right? You were so obvious, these past couple weeks, always coming this close to telling me something before backing out.¡±

    ¡°Um¡­¡± Lynn said but Ness kept going.

    ¡°So, I was thinking about what secret you might know that you couldn¡¯t tell me, and then I thought about your father¡ªwho although you don¡¯t talk about him lots¡ªI¡¯m sure he¡¯s high up in the government right?¡±

    ¡°Well actual¡ª¡± Lynn was cut off again.

    ¡°So, I figured that he¡¯s gotta have an inside source and he probably knows all the test results and assignments weeks before they tell us, and you got a peek at his documents or he told you or something. Am I right?¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Lynn waited for a moment to make sure Ness was done talking. Then, he responded, ¡°¡­Um, No, you¡¯re not right.¡±

    ¡°What¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know, before just now, that you¡¯d gotten an officer-apprenticeship,¡± Lynn paused, and then continued, ¡°and I didn¡¯t apply for one in any case.¡±

    ¡°What¡±

    ¡°Look, I know I never talk much about my family or the future, it¡¯s just not who I am but¡ª¡± Lynn saw Ness was about to say something, ¡°¡ªlet me finish please.¡±

    Ness nodded, and Lynn took a deep breath.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve been thinking a lot about what I want to do, and I¡¯ve found that I still don¡¯t know. That¡¯s why I¡¯ve decided to become an Acolyte with the Keepers at least until I become a Scholar.¡± Lynn finished.

    ¡°But¡­¡± Ness was at a loss; she didn¡¯t know what to say.

    Lynn sighed, ¡°Look, Ness, I know what you¡¯re thinking. You¡¯ve worked all your life to become a Mariner, and ever since we were kids, becoming an adventurer or an explorer like those in story books has been your dream. I¡¯m glad for you, I really am, but risking your life on the open ocean is your dream, not mine.¡±

    Ness¡¯s cheeks flushed with embarrassment slightly at the storybook comment. He¡¯s not wrong, however childish it may be, it¡¯s still true. She collected her thoughts for a moment and let the conversation lapse.

    ¡°I guess you¡¯re right, it is my dream, but I still expected you to be there, ya know? You can¡¯t argue that we don¡¯t make a fantastic team, and well, you never really said anything about your plans for the future, so I just assumed¡­¡± Ness trailed off.

    Now it was Lynn¡¯s turn to sigh. ¡°I guess I¡¯m at fault too. I never told you, or anyone much about my family or my plans.¡±

    Ness looked at Lynn expectantly, ¡°You wanna talk about it?¡±

    A moment passed. Then, Lynn started talking.

    ¡°First, this isn¡¯t a super interesting story, but this way I am¡ªwho I am, is mostly an indirect consequence of my Mother dying when I was three. One day, she woke up and started to hear the Voice. Unusual for someone under the age of 80 I know, but, well that¡¯s what happened. She told someone, or maybe the servants figured it out, but eventually everyone knew. She and my father decided that she¡¯d head to the temple herself before a mob came to get her, and that¡¯s what she did. The next day, she said her goodbyes and headed to the Temple.¡±

    ¡°It sounds harsh to say so, but I¡¯m not that sad about it; I don¡¯t have many memories of her to miss. Honestly, if anything I¡¯m angry at her for leaving me with father. After she died, I became my father¡¯s new project. Someone needed to be his successor, and my brother was already on a different path. Every day since then, he¡¯s tried to groom me into a perfect heir. Etiquette, cultured behavior, and politics lessons day in and day out. He made all these plans for me to follow, breaking down my future into pre-managed and pre-ordained blocks.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to be my father. I don¡¯t want to be a leader, and I don¡¯t want to have my life be dictated by him step-by-step. I guess that¡¯s why I¡¯m heading to the Keepers. Father can¡¯t really say no, as pursuing more education is something he sees as useful for the heir of a house but what I really want is to become a Scholar and gain the independence that comes with the title.¡±

    The pair fell back into silence. Then Ness spoke up, ¡°Thanks for telling me¡± and gave him a weak smile. Lynn smiled back, took a small drink, and the pair watched the disk of the sun finally contact the horizon far away.

    ¡°Well, enough of my somewhat-depressing storytime, back to what you were telling me¡­¡± Lynn said as he looked towards Ness. Then, he cracked a wide smile, ¡°Anissa Mindago, officer-apprentice straight out of school, a young prodigy!¡±

    ¡°Oh, stop it Lynton Declan, it¡¯s not that incredible.¡± she said as she gave Lynn a playful push.

    ¡°¡®not that incredible¡¯ she says. What¡¯s the quota? Only 5% of applicants are accepted straight out of school, right? Don¡¯t be so humble.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right. I am damn incredible, and everyone¡¯ll do well to remember it!¡± Ness exclaimed in exaggerated proud tone, ¡°One day, when I¡¯m the captain of my own ship, I¡¯ll use it to mercilessly hunt down and sink everyone who ever slighted me!¡± She raised her cup and gave her best evil laugh before Lynn joined in and it devolved into regular laughter.

    ¡°Alright, alright, enough storybook-antics from you. When are you heading out then?¡± Lynn asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m not quite sure,¡± Ness said, now thoughtful, ¡°Officially I¡¯m only supposed to find out tomorrow morning, so I don¡¯t know the details yet, but I expect it¡¯ll be in a week or two. How about you?¡±

    ¡°Well, I get to ascend to the Keep in a month, and then I¡¯ll officially be living there for at least two years as an Acolyte.¡±

    ¡°I still can¡¯t believe that you¡¯re gonna become some stuffy scholar, where¡¯s the highly-competent member of team #82?¡± Ness asked.

    Finishing off his glass and refilling it, Lynn sardonically said, ¡°This ¡®highly-competent team member¡¯ doesn¡¯t get turned on by the prospect of going on life-threatening adventures and doesn¡¯t particularly want to end up being eaten by some sea monster. Is that really so hard to believe?¡±

    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s not fair!¡± Ness called with feigned outrage, ¡°I do NOT get ¡®turned on by the prospect of going on life-threatening adventures¡¯!¡±

    ¡°Whatever you say,¡± he said. ¡°Refill?¡±

    Wordlessly, she handed him her now empty cup which was promptly refilled, and the conversation stilled for the moment. Ness looked over to the setting sun, its disk now halfway concealed behind the horizon, which was forming quite the spectacular pattern in the water. She imagined the future, sailing the sea for months at a time discovering who-knows-what, and coming back with wild stories. I¡¯ll miss Lynn though.

    ¡°Promise me that we¡¯ll stay friends,¡± Ness suddenly said.

    ¡°Of course! We can meet up whenever you¡¯re back in port, it¡¯s not like the Keep is a prison or anything.¡±

    ¡°Yeah sure, but it¡¯ll still be different. These past couple years we¡¯ve seen each other like every day, and I¡¯m just¡­¡± she trailed off

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    Ness paused for a moment, ¡°It¡¯s just, you, and the others aren¡¯t only my best friends, you¡¯re my only friends. I don¡¯t think I can make new friends that are as good as you and the others.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about?¡± he said, then snorted, and continued, ¡°It¡¯ll be fine, and besides, I¡¯m not going that far.¡±

    Ness sighed. He doesn¡¯t get it, but then, he¡¯s never had any difficulty making friends.

    ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ ah, forget it,¡± she said, ¡°Let¡¯s not get bogged down with heavy any longer, we should be celebrating!¡±

    Ness glanced at the bottle, which was now only quarter full, and handed Lynn her gold-speckled empty cup again with a smile. He poured them both a refill and then the fancy bottle was empty. The two returned to lighter conversational topics, and a couple minutes later the sun completely set. It was time to head back: the best graduation-night parties started after sundown. Ness and Lynn, now thoroughly buzzed, headed back down towards the lights of civilization.

 Chapter 8: That new school smell

    Lynn

    Really, Lynton wasn¡¯t sure what he¡¯d expected, but he was a bit disappointed. In his head, he¡¯d had this idealized version of the Keepers: Studious scholars who devoted their lives to learning and teaching whilst they abstained from the pettier pursuits of man. Alas, it couldn¡¯t be further from the truth: Lynton was facing down some in-the-flesh bullies. Actual bullies. What is this? Some sort of parody of real life?

    It was easy to tell that the two who were accosting him were also newly minted acolytes. Their garish orange robes gave it away. Clearly these two were trying climb the social rigging whilst simultaneously booting him down a few ratlines. To do this, they¡¯d put on a farce of an intimidation routine. It wasn¡¯t working. Instead of being scared, Lynn was just incredulous. He¡¯d hoped to leave this type of stuff behind him and where it belonged: on the school playground. Some losers are trying to threaten me? Please.

    Lynton politely excused himself from the duo and walked away, much to their consternation. A few more insults were flung, but Lynn wasn¡¯t listening. In truth, Lynn though, It¡¯s not completely undeserved. People like him¡ªInheritors¡ªwith wealthy families and rich backgrounds could pay to go to become an Acolyte of the Keep, regardless of academic prowess. For many other Inheritors, being an acolyte of the Keep for a couple years and maybe graduating to scholar was just part of what it took to get ready for ¡°cultured¡± society. Not for Lynton though. He¡¯d come to the Keep on his own merits, and his frankly ridiculous score on the entrance exam had guaranteed him a spot.

    Still, despite the scholarship which came with his exceptional grade, Lynton had to accept his father¡¯s ¡°aid¡± in the form of sponsoring him a solo room. All the other non-wealthy Acolytes bunked four to a room while he luxuriated in a closet-sized 14 sqm private room. He wasn¡¯t that unhappy about it; after all, sharing a room with three other strangers sounded like a nightmare. The biggest disadvantage was that it made him feel left out. After all, shared-room horror stories were part of the acolyte experience.

    Remembering that he had an appointment, Lynn consulted his map, and started to head towards the administrative section of the Keep. Luckily everything was well labeled despite the Keep being a veritable labyrinth of hallways, tunnels, alcoves, rooms, and labs. Sure, without a map, he¡¯d be hopelessly lost in a few steps, but with the map, he could easily navigate. This was just one of the inconsistencies that Lynn noticed since arriving here. Many parts of the Keep¡¯s construction were completely alien or nonsensical. Perfect example: the positioning of hallways and rooms was just off. What type of deluded architect would ever draft such a maze? It all made no sense, connected in non-intuitive ways, and without a map, getting lost was all but guaranteed.

    On the other hand, the maps and the numbering system were an example of scholarly brilliance and efficiency. Simply by reading the five-symbol tag adorning any door, one could instantly localize oneself on the map. Even more usefully, the map was easy to read and only covered a single page of paper. To avoid the difficulties associated with making maps for multiple levels and requiring people to figure out which staircase led to where, the designers of the map had created a topological schematic representation of the entire Keep. This meant that the map was wildly inaccurate for location and scale purposes, but it made finding the path to any destination easy.

    This peculiarity with the construction and the maps meant that most people still used the map to get around well into their scholar¡¯s years. In fact, it was said that one had truly only become a keeper when one was able to navigate the entirety of the keep without one. Lynton wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d ever get there, but he could see the advantages. If one had a complete mental picture of every hall, passage, and trapdoor in the keep, it would be possible to traverse it far faster than anyone with a map. In fact, many routes that adorned the map didn¡¯t describe the fastest ways between destinations. With proper knowledge, shortcuts were almost always possible.

    Mind still picking at the gordian knot that was the Keep¡¯s topology, Lynton arrived at his destination: the office of Elder Inninyll. Lynn gripped his orange robes, pulled them up a bit, and started to climb the steep and narrow spiral staircase. Two revolutions later, he encountered a thick door, knocked, and was then called to ¡°Enter¡± by an aged but still strong voice. With only a tiny bit of trepidation, Lynton opened the door and entered the Elder¡¯s domain.

    As soon as he stepped into the room, he understood why the domiciles of the Elders were often called the ¡°wizard towers¡±. The brief view he cast through a tall and slit-like window gave him a commanding view of the Keep and the island below. Where the rounded wall of the circular room wasn¡¯t sporting windows, ceiling-height bookshelves had settled themselves. Further contributing towards the wizardly atmosphere, strange brass and glass devices were haphazardly spread across worktables or on spindly tripods. Finally, there was the wizard, no, the Elder. The woman, Elder Inninyll, sure fit the picture. Long but white hair was swept back over her head and a relaxed smile shone on her face.

    Lynton found it hard to guess the woman¡¯s age. Sure, she looked somewhere slightly older than the average adult, but then again, most people stopped visibly aging past forty or so. There was one exception though, the eyes. As Lynton¡¯s eyes briefly locked with those of the Elder, he began to get a true idea about the woman¡¯s age. Her smile hardly creased the faint wrinkles on her face, but the eyes were full of depth and experience. They were the eyes of someone who¡¯d seen a lot.

    She stood, dark maroon robes flowing down to the floor, and extended her hand in greeting.

    ¡°Welcome, welcome. It¡¯s good to meet you Mr. Declan.¡±

    Lynton took the proffered hand, stammered out a reply, was given a solid handshake, and then was directed to have a seat in front of the desk. They both sat and the elder intertwined her fingers on the desk before her.

    ¡°First of all, what are your thoughts of the keep so far? Have you settled in well?¡±

    Lynton reflected on the past four weeks and considered his reply before answering.

    ¡°So far, I¡¯ve been enjoying my enrollment as an Acolyte. Mostly, I¡¯m glad that the material we¡¯re working on is challenging compared to what I was doing in school. The only thing is¡­¡± Lynn cut off what he was about to say. Something about the Elder was just disarming.

    The Elder nodded and gestured for him to go on. Lynn considered, what he had been about to say might be a bit unpolitic but, well, Elder Inninyll doesn¡¯t seem like the stuck-up type.

    ¡°¡­I don¡¯t know, I expected my fellow students to be a bit more mature maybe? I¡¯m not quite sure if this is the right way to put this, but I¡¯d hoped to leave playground-level conflicts behind me...¡± Lynn trailed off and watched the Elder.

    She, in response, gave a light chuckle. Still slightly amused, she said, ¡°Ah, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re being candid Mr. Declan¡ª¡±

    ¡°Please, you can call me Lynton¡±

    ¡°¡ªLynton. I think I¡¯ll let you in on a little secret, even if it¡¯s one you probably don¡¯t want to hear.¡± Conspiratorially, Inninyll lowered her voice slightly and leaned forwards, ¡°It never goes away. What do you think we Elders do all day in or exclusive councils and closed-door meetings? Work together in harmonious accord? Pah! It¡¯s all bickering, passive aggressiveness, and thinly veiled insults all day.¡±This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    The Elder leaned back into her chair again, waited a beat, and then continued at a regular volume again, ¡°Anyways, Lynton, you¡¯re probably wondering why you¡¯re here. The reason is: I¡¯d like to ask you a few questions.¡± Inninyll gave a short pause, deinterlaced her fingers, and then continued, ¡°Since I think you¡¯re the type of person who would respond well to straightforwardness, I¡¯m just going to go ahead and tell you that this is a job interview.¡±

    ¡°Ok¡­ You¡¯re right, I do appreciate you being candid, Elder, but I¡¯m reasonably certain that I never applied for any job.¡±

    ¡°This interview is for isn¡¯t one that anyone can just apply to. The jobs that this interview can lead to are  exclusive and basically invite only¡ª¡± seeing the question on Lynton¡¯s lips, Inninyll cut him off before he could ask, ¡°¡ªand no, I won¡¯t tell you what possible positions you¡¯re interviewing for at the moment. Are you interested?¡±

    Lynton let the question die in his throat and thought about what the Elder had said. Quickly, he put together the clues. First, Inninyll had said that this interview was invite-only. Secondly, she¡¯d told him that the interview wasn¡¯t for a specific job but rather offered multiple possible jobs, presumably depending on his answers. Obviously, the situation he was in was the first step in ascending the ranks of Keepers. But why me? Sure, his grades were good. Also, he had an influential family, but that shouldn¡¯t count for anything among the Keepers, right?

    ¡°Yes, Elder, I¡¯m interested.¡±

    The older woman cracked a small smile and said, ¡°Excellent¡± before fishing out a notepad and a pen.

    ¡°First, lets get started with the basics. The format here will be quite standard. I¡¯ll ask you some questions and you¡¯ll answer them. After that¡ªif I¡¯m satisfied of course¡ªI¡¯ll give you some offers, and you¡¯ll get the chance to ask some questions yourself before choosing to accept or decline any possible offers. Got it?¡±

    Lynn nodded in affirmation, and the interview started in full swing. First, the Elder asked Lynn all sorts of questions about his childhood, school education, and some of the other details were on his application. Then questions shifted to something that Lynn would describe as a skill evaluation. Inninyll asked questions about mathematics, science, and even some oddball questions starting at school difficulty levels and rapidly ramping up to where he was currently as an Acolyte and beyond. Absentmindedly, Lynton also noticed how fast the elder was when it came to mathematics. She¡¯d pen down an equation for him to solve or a string of computations to preform and with superhuman speed she was somehow able to divine which answers were right and wrong. Maybe she does this interview so often she¡¯s got all the answers memorized?

    Finally, the elder cleared away the small stack of papers that they¡¯d filled with computations and settled herself upright in her chair. Then, she asked her next question.

    ¡°What drives you Lynton? More specifically, why did you come to the Keepers?¡±

    Lynton was about to answer this question with some generic answer when something in his subconsciousness called a time-out. Stifling any rote answers, he paused to think. That last question was different, it was asked with a certain weight. Clearly, we¡¯re approaching the end of the interview. I¡¯ve verified that I am who I write that I am, I¡¯ve demonstrated my skills, and now she wants to know my mind. This is probably the make-or-break question.

    Collecting his thoughts, he considered what approach he should take. Of course, he¡¯d been coached on all sorts of interpersonal strategies, some of them specifically for interviewing, but he didn¡¯t think that any of those pre-prepared gambits would work in this situation. Even if they did, they probably weren¡¯t the answers that the Elder wanted. She wasn¡¯t going to be impressed if he told her something his father would want him to say, something like, ¡°What drives me? Well that¡¯s a good question you¡¯ve asked there, and It¡¯s one that I¡¯ve thought long and hard about. In fact, I¡¯d say the source of my motivation comes from¡­¡± and then he¡¯d go on to pontificate about ¡°family honor¡±, ¡°duty¡±, and ¡°service to our people¡± or some other nonsense. But that¡¯s not me, and it clearly wasn¡¯t what the Elder wanted to hear.

    Come to think of it, Lynn didn¡¯t know all too much about the Elder who he¡¯d spent the past hour with. Despite the lack of information, there is one thing: So far, she¡¯s been straightforward and seems to appreciate that I am. Approach now decided on, Lynn took deep breath, collected his thoughts, and then began.

    ¡°One of my drivers¡ªmy motivations¡ªis my Father, but not in the traditional sense. All my life, he¡¯s prepared me for this role; he¡¯s been trying to shape me into what he wants: the perfect son, an heir, a proper Inheritor. But honestly, I don¡¯t want to be that. I despise the idea of it. I don¡¯t want to lead a house, forge deals, and make polite conversation with political enemies. I want my future decided by myself, and my father has led me to realize that.¡±

    ¡°My second reason, and why I¡¯ve decided to become a Keeper is because I think that it¡¯s the right life for me. I¡¯ve always loved solving problems, puzzling out esoterica, and in general becoming a better version of myself.¡±

    ¡°Now, I haven¡¯t been among the Keepers for all to long, but so far it¡¯s been the best time of my life. The lectures, the libraries, everything, it just fits. As silly or basic as it sounds, learning is my passion, and it¡¯s something that I can imagine myself doing for the rest of my life.¡±

    Lynn finished his answer and the room fell silent. The evaluating Elder tracked her eyes back and forth between Lynton¡¯s now somewhat flushed face and the notes that she¡¯d jotted down during the interview. Half a minute passed like this; the silence only broken by the clicking of some mechanism in the room. Then, Inninyll came to a decision. She closed her notepad, laid it on the desk, and then placed her hand on top. With a predatory smile, she locked her eyes on Lynton¡¯s and then gave him the verdict.

    ¡°Congratulations Lynton Declan you¡¯ve qualified for two jobs. I was expecting something interesting from you, but I wasn¡¯t sure if you were the right person for what I have in mind. After all, it¡¯s not everyday that someone¡¯s academics are as good as yours¡ªand don¡¯t tell anyone I told you this¡ªbut your examination results put every single one of the other acolytes in your year to shame. If I include your status as an Inheritor, you stand out even more.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a secret, but Inheritors are usually the worst students. Rich parents pave the way for their offspring with money, the brats walk around with the orange robes for two years, and then they go back to cocktail parties and whatever the young and affluent spend their time doing.¡±

    ¡°You, however, appear to be different. You¡¯re blazingly smart and have everything an Inheritor could want¡ªa guaranteed path to house patriarch in a wealthy and influential house. Yet despite this, you seem rather devoted to this idea of becoming a proper Keeper.¡±

    The elder leaned forwards, and continued, ¡°I like what you¡¯ve shown and I would like you to be my apprentice.¡±

    Returning to her regular sitting posture, the elder once again interlaced her fingers and then asked, ¡°Well, what do you think?¡±

    Lynton was shocked. He¡¯d expected to become some sort of group leader or maybe designated chalkboard eraser, not a direct apprentice to one of the twelve Elders. Sure, Inninyll was ¡°only¡± a capital ¡°E¡± Elder, not the one and only capital ¡°T¡±, capital ¡°E¡± The Elder, but still. Wait, didn¡¯t she say jobs, plural?

    Lynton asked for clarification, ¡°Sorry, but didn¡¯t you say jobs, not job?¡±

    Inninyll laughed, and said, ¡°Well sure, technically everyone who even gets invited to this interview is already guaranteed the job of ¡®class assistant¡¯, but that¡¯s mostly so people don¡¯t feel let down if they aren¡¯t offered something at the end of the interview.¡±

    ¡°That said, I¡¯m going to assume that your dream isn¡¯t to become a glorified chalkboard eraser and paper-passer-outer. Still, if you don¡¯t want to be my apprentice, that offer¡¯s still on the table.¡±

    Lynton considered, and then asked his second question, ¡°Ok, I understand that I¡¯ve got exceptional grades and an unorthodox background, but I¡¯ve only been here for a month. Now, I¡¯m not trying to talk you out of your offer, but wouldn¡¯t something like becoming your apprentice be something that happens a bit later? Wouldn¡¯t it be something that happens to scholars or second-year Acolytes at least?¡±

    The Elder sighed, and suddenly looked a bit older before replying, ¡°Truly, you¡¯re not wrong. This is somewhat unorthodox, but I¡¯ve got a variety of reasons for doing so now. Primarily¡ªand this might be disappointing for you to hear¡ªthe upper levels of the Keepers are just as fraught with politics as the Inheritors are. I try to keep out of it but even I can¡¯t avoid the factions, the schemes, and the voting blocs for much longer. Usually, specific factions or Elders start snatching up allegiances among the acolytes once the chaff has been sifted out. That¡¯s typically halfway through the first year. You, who I see as something of a kindred soul, are quite the catch. You¡¯re skilled with a proper family name, and I thought it best to rescue you before you get blindsided and fall to the depredations of Keeper politics.¡±

    ¡°Of course, you can have some time to think about it, or ask more questions, but you can also give me your answer know if you would like.¡±

    Lynn¡¯s head was swimming with questions, but he knew one thing clearly: this wasn¡¯t the type of offer he would turn down. Taking ¡°some time to think about it¡± wouldn¡¯t change his answer. Opportunity had presented itself, and Lynn was ready to seize it.

    ¡°I¡¯d be honored to become your apprentice, Elder Inninyll.¡±