Chapter 152: 152
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From day one, Orison saw how things were and the nature of evaluation week. The staff took an inventory of everything from the S\u0026M bars and used a prescribed list of ways to kill the person being examined that would allow them to be brought back with only a five percent or lower chance of 'unable to revive'. Every one of them designed to specifically target each bar for accuracy and performance. At least, that's how it felt to the young mage. He had to admit that there was little way to fool such an evaluation system.
For his mystic bar, the woman handed him a device that looked vaguely like the one he'd used in White River to test magic reserve and recovery. Thing was, it wasn't a passive device. Within two seconds, it had sucked him dry and started chewing into his life force but the woman didn't stop it until after ten seconds. In his panic, Orison had let more slip from his space in an effort for the thing not to kill him.
He couldn't imagine how such a test would devastate someone else. Not only had the device scoured his body clean, it would have halved his lifespan if he didn't have ways to recover it. What was worse, she only gave him a few hours and a lunch break before she did it again. They let him languish on the border of death for half a day before Orison realized they weren't going to do anything until he 'died'. It took everything he had to let it happen.
The next day he awoke to his body being full of returned essence aside from his life force. He only received half of that back. He had a good feeling that if he said something, the stolen part might inevitably be returned with just a little missing but he held back.
To test his E-class magic augmentation and as an extended evaluation of his D-class genetic deviation, the older drill sergeant looking guy fought/beat him to death. Orison kept the teaser suit in and barely hid the more advanced parts of his training. When it came to possibly winning, there was no hope of that anyway. Too many factors were stacked in the older man's favor.
Orison watched on dispassionately from a spiritual viewpoint as the medical team suddenly had to fight to save his life seriously due to a sudden brain embolism that caused a massive stroke. There might be quite a bit of validity to stress testing under the threat of death but it seemed too much. There was no denying that Orison saw a glimmer of real enjoyment in the man's eyes.
For the E-class sensitivity test, it was broken up into a 'haunted house' scenario where he almost died two times. Then it was a pain curse paintball portion that lasted for an hour and made Orison prefer a temporary death. Finally it was a plethora of mundane surprise assaults from people, rubber bullets and various other completely UN-supernatural things that only threatened his life once when one of the spring traps sliced his inner thigh.
The week was over but he was left to languish alone in his room for another three days. The League representative's meeting with Orison had been postponed for that and another three days of 'therapy' that was more a validation of his treatment with shovels full of real and pseudo-scientific reasoning behind the tests. Regardless of how strong he thought himself to be, the young mage had legitimately been traumatized by the event.
During one eight hour extended trance, after a PTSD flash of being beaten to death, Orison calmed his heart rate back down and thought, "No, there's another subtle thing instilled in all of this. It's something aimed at C-class and lower specials. Fear the government and tolerate abuse from humans. It might hurt but as long as you cooperate, you'll be okay."
On the morning of his thirteenth day, the woman he called W-1 came in. "I'll be taking you to meet someone in a moment but first, I need to know that you understand the necessity of everything that happened here. If you don't, I can ensure you have all the time you need here to receive the explanations and any other kind of help you feel you may need."
There was an entreaty and a subtle threat woven together in her words.
Looking at Orison compassionately, she said, "When the League participated in the evaluations, it wasn't any different. I promise you that. If you believe that they're wrong, join the system and help make them better."
Orison looked at her with dull, haunted eyes and said, "Children are born on Avalon every day. They stopped 'evaluating' because they found better and more humane ways to measure abilities and assess risk. The evaluation process of the UTF is quick, efficient, cost effective and nets them resources."
The woman looked at Orison in horrified disbelief. "From the Bars to evaluation and the following special education, it costs the government one third of its yearly budget to deal with the full umbrella program. Only ten percent, sometimes less, contribute back in any meaningful way by working for the government."
The young mage just shook his head. Accepting her 'defeat' in front of his 'ignorance', she marched him to the League representative with the suppressed anger of a military officer escorting a traitor to public execution. Once done bringing him to the therapy room, she stormed off.
A grim looking, gray eyed man with a steely aura, motioned for Orison to sit. After giving a formulaic breakdown of his reason for being there and what he did, which Orison pretty much already knew, the man opened the floor for Orison to speak.
While giving the surface breakdown of all that his stay had entailed, Orison bit his thumb and silently drew a bloody circle on the table. Without batting an eye, the man followed both his spoken word and the note that appeared in the bloody circle before it became a light bit of dust. After acknowledging what he had seen with a slow nod and a spark of anger in his eyes, the man finished green checking that all Orison had SAID matched evaluation procedures, if barely.
The grim man explained. "Normally this is where I give you the breakdown as gently as I can considering what you've endured to reach this point... Seeing that you're steadier of mind than most I meet for the first time, allow me to give you a better idea of what you're looking at right now. As a minor and ward of the state, the government is your legal guardian and can hold you from your 'Path Day' until majority. The exceptions to that aren't reflected on your Bars chart or anything I've HEARD you say here."
The man pointed at the table and gave Orison a subtle thumbs up.
He then continued, "When your Path Day does come, whenever that will be, you'll be tasked with making the important decision to go independent or chose between government and the League of Extraordinaries. I'll be more candid with you than I am with most. It's not a clear cut choice.
"The government will give you a more structured environment with clear and visible rules. Your pay and perks will be set in stone and follow a progression you can count on. It really isn't a bad choice for someone who desires an uncomplicated and straightforward life."
The man stopped to look at Orison. The young mage slowly shook his head. The grim man silently acknowledged and continued, "Directionless independents have it rough. Those who apply their talents to ever needed civilian professions, particularly medical fields, will find a place to belong and acceptance by the powers that be as long as they live peacefully. Outside of that, specials who chose to be independent but aspire to be no more than self serving are seen as lazy cowards by most of the League and potential internal threats by the UTF."
The man stopped to look at Orison again. The young mage held out his hand and flipped it a couple times indicating he was considering it but not dead set to go independent.
Acknowledging again, the man took a calming breath and said, "About half who come for citizenship, earn it. Less than a quarter of the League members who serve past that, make it to retirement. Almost half overall leave service in an urn or coffin.
"Citizenship of Avalon requires ten years of active service and eight as reserves that can be called to active at any time. To retire with benefits requires twenty years active and eight years reserve. Educational and combat training prerequisites may only count for up to two of those years regardless of how long it takes to meet them.
"Avalon is a beautiful place but it was built on the bodies of its citizens. We fight and all too often, we die to defend this world that rarely shows more than contempt for us. Avalon is filled with knowledge and secrets because without them, we would have already fallen to our enemies and this world would fall with us. Avalon is a paradise because nothing less could nourish and heal those who constantly battle the darkness and are stained by it.
"We have more to offer for those who seek self improvement but we ask more for it. Ultimately, we are a meritocracy with all the flaws and advantages that implies. It is true that we have a physical and intellect standard for all citizens save those who have served their time. It is false that we deport those who struggle to meet them. Determination is a merit and as long as we see it, additional assistance will be provided."
The man waited in silence for Orison to digest that and answer questions. The young mage felt the draw. His instincts practically shouted that he needed to fight and even resign himself to participating in some spiritual predation if he wanted to climb higher than a couple more steps and a tier four range. It didn't HAVE to be then and there but it was the best time in his development to face a new type of baptism, one of death and violence. Still, he hesitated.
He didn't know how things had played out for Gan. He definitely knew that Stag had chosen the independent path and Ivan would most definitely WANT Avalon but he was unsure if Ivan was even alive. Somewhere along the way, he had lost Stag's mark after the Zeke ritual or many of those questions would already be answered.
Seeing his hesitation, the man said, "It's all theoretical but were you in a situation to choose, a minor can bring a guardian and up to two siblings to Avalon with them but those so chosen would be held by the same performance standards as everyone else."
Orison's had teased out that his vision while in the illusion of Duran, Stag and Droya were true visions. That meant there were only three people and possibly Rio that he was concerned with at the moment. There was a lot of uncertainty but he only really needed one 'family'. He felt responsible for Stag and Ivan somewhat but they were grown men with their own abilities to fend for themselves. He'd help Rio if he could but didn't feel any sense of debt or anything more than a bit of sympathy towards the boy. What was being offered was more than enough.
The young mage said, "It's a shame its only theoretical. I'm certain I would choose Avalon and not because of a desire for safety. To grow, I think I need a place like the League."
The man stood up and offered his hand to Orison which the young mage took, exchanging a solid shake before the man said, "At the LONGEST, you can be held by the system for THREE more years. If you hold steady, I'm sure they'll pass like DAYS. Stay strong and I hope you'll feel the same way then."
When they parted, there was a moment as he was being led back to his room where a slightly antagonistic conversation took place between the League man and the UTF woman. His paperwork would receive the man's clearance stamp after a week of dual agency therapy and Orison was to be given 'topside' accommodation. She countered that Orison was a ward of the state and that the education system could provide counseling, making clear that she didn't care for the young mage's lack of consideration for the UTF's investment in his well being and care.
He didn't hear the rest of the conversation but the older man who'd once beaten him to death, guided him to a new room. "You don't look traumatized to me. I think if you were given half the chance, you'd take another beating from me just for the privilege of taking a few more swings."
Orison said, "Especially if I got the performance enhancers and defensive gear while YOU wore the strike pads. Damn right I would and I'd enjoy it as much as you did."
The older man gave him a grudging nod of approval before walking away. After looking around at the doorless room with a window Orison walked out into the common area a few seconds later. The only other resident was a twelve year old girl who was silently crying while watching a cartoon show. The staffer behind the observation desk looked at the girl with a kind of vague sympathy.
He upped his spirit sight to just shy of eye glow in the slightly dim room. There was a small cluster of slowly fading spirit essence motes tied to her by a withering line. At one point, it could have been anything from a thought form to something more substantial like Jammers but its core had been ripped out. Since the girl could probably no longer feel it, the line of essence that allowed her to feed it was disappearing along with her belief that it was there still.
He sat down with a seat between them and whispered, "It's still there. I think it's letting itself fade because it blames itself for what happened to you here."
When she looked at him sharply, about to say something, Orison gave a pointed look at the doughy woman behind the desk.
She pretended to pay attention to the cartoon for awhile and once the woman's interest in the two faded back from alertness, the girl said, "I felt the metal ball take Rocky away. It took part of me away too and they didn't give it back. They told me not to lie and then they told me that Rocky was just tired but I can't feel him anymore. They killed him and they lied about it."
Orison replied, "They took your... friend's core. But you hold your memories with him and the ability to keep him alive until he can make another. He might not be exactly the same and it will take time but you can. The first step is convincing Rocky that you don't want him gone."
The girl started crying again. "I did. I told him I hated him and said all kinds of mean things because I did think it was his fault."
"Do you feel that way now?" Orison asked.
"No!' the girl said, loud enough to draw the staffer's eyes over to them.
The doughy woman said, "Eleven, do you want me to make thirty-two leave you alone?"
The girl tried her best to drum up a fake smile through all her fear and sadness. "No, it's alright. I'm just a little fuzzy headed from all the sleeping."
"Thirty-Two, you might be trying to make her feel better or something but touching of any kind between dorm residents is prohibited for any reason. If you don't want to be sent back down, keep that in mind," the staffer said.
After that, it was impossible for them to talk about the girl's issue directly but he said, "When I'm sad about someone who feels far away, I try to think of all my memories I have with them and make it into an envelope full of magic pictures. Then I send it to them like a prayer, believing as hard as I can that they will get it. Start from when you first met and don't try to send more pictures than you can fit inside the envelope. They have to be clear and even if that means one at a time, that's fine."
As mundane and not out of the ordinary as the girl's soul was, it possessed a quality that was beyond Orison's ability to see or understand. The negligible few motes of spirit essence the girl sent through her connection was almost lost under the sand grain sized motes of the essence Orison had identified as having to do with faith, 'faith essence' for lack of a better term. Seeing that the girl was 'praying' her memory letters fervently and with a closed eye intensity that made it seen bad to interrupt her, he got up and milled around.
Until his pacing caught the woman's attention, he absentmindedly noted that she had been sending 'memory letters' to someone too. No one was an island and the young mage's instructions couched in comforting rhetoric seemed to have inspired the doughy woman unintentionally. Even though the greedy world took the light dusting of spirit essence for itself, two tiny particles of faith essence drifted unhindered through the wall of the common room.
Apparently the woman's 'faith' wasn't that strong because as soon as her concentration broke to observe him, the two tiny motes drifted back in and were hijacked by the girl's 'friend'. Rocky didn't take them in. they just orbited around the tiny cloud of self contained spirit essence. He found himself inspired by the woman's unintentional inspiration and took a moment to find humor in the absurdity of it.
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From day one, Orison saw how things were and the nature of evaluation week. The staff took an inventory of everything from the S\u0026M bars and used a prescribed list of ways to kill the person being examined that would allow them to be brought back with only a five percent or lower chance of 'unable to revive'. Every one of them designed to specifically target each bar for accuracy and performance. At least, that's how it felt to the young mage. He had to admit that there was little way to fool such an evaluation system.
For his mystic bar, the woman handed him a device that looked vaguely like the one he'd used in White River to test magic reserve and recovery. Thing was, it wasn't a passive device. Within two seconds, it had sucked him dry and started chewing into his life force but the woman didn't stop it until after ten seconds. In his panic, Orison had let more slip from his space in an effort for the thing not to kill him.
He couldn't imagine how such a test would devastate someone else. Not only had the device scoured his body clean, it would have halved his lifespan if he didn't have ways to recover it. What was worse, she only gave him a few hours and a lunch break before she did it again. They let him languish on the border of death for half a day before Orison realized they weren't going to do anything until he 'died'. It took everything he had to let it happen.
The next day he awoke to his body being full of returned essence aside from his life force. He only received half of that back. He had a good feeling that if he said something, the stolen part might inevitably be returned with just a little missing but he held back.
To test his E-class magic augmentation and as an extended evaluation of his D-class genetic deviation, the older drill sergeant looking guy fought/beat him to death. Orison kept the teaser suit in and barely hid the more advanced parts of his training. When it came to possibly winning, there was no hope of that anyway. Too many factors were stacked in the older man's favor.
Orison watched on dispassionately from a spiritual viewpoint as the medical team suddenly had to fight to save his life seriously due to a sudden brain embolism that caused a massive stroke. There might be quite a bit of validity to stress testing under the threat of death but it seemed too much. There was no denying that Orison saw a glimmer of real enjoyment in the man's eyes.
For the E-class sensitivity test, it was broken up into a 'haunted house' scenario where he almost died two times. Then it was a pain curse paintball portion that lasted for an hour and made Orison prefer a temporary death. Finally it was a plethora of mundane surprise assaults from people, rubber bullets and various other completely UN-supernatural things that only threatened his life once when one of the spring traps sliced his inner thigh.
The week was over but he was left to languish alone in his room for another three days. The League representative's meeting with Orison had been postponed for that and another three days of 'therapy' that was more a validation of his treatment with shovels full of real and pseudo-scientific reasoning behind the tests. Regardless of how strong he thought himself to be, the young mage had legitimately been traumatized by the event.
During one eight hour extended trance, after a PTSD flash of being beaten to death, Orison calmed his heart rate back down and thought, "No, there's another subtle thing instilled in all of this. It's something aimed at C-class and lower specials. Fear the government and tolerate abuse from humans. It might hurt but as long as you cooperate, you'll be okay."
On the morning of his thirteenth day, the woman he called W-1 came in. "I'll be taking you to meet someone in a moment but first, I need to know that you understand the necessity of everything that happened here. If you don't, I can ensure you have all the time you need here to receive the explanations and any other kind of help you feel you may need."
There was an entreaty and a subtle threat woven together in her words.
Looking at Orison compassionately, she said, "When the League participated in the evaluations, it wasn't any different. I promise you that. If you believe that they're wrong, join the system and help make them better."
Orison looked at her with dull, haunted eyes and said, "Children are born on Avalon every day. They stopped 'evaluating' because they found better and more humane ways to measure abilities and assess risk. The evaluation process of the UTF is quick, efficient, cost effective and nets them resources."
The woman looked at Orison in horrified disbelief. "From the Bars to evaluation and the following special education, it costs the government one third of its yearly budget to deal with the full umbrella program. Only ten percent, sometimes less, contribute back in any meaningful way by working for the government."
The young mage just shook his head. Accepting her 'defeat' in front of his 'ignorance', she marched him to the League representative with the suppressed anger of a military officer escorting a traitor to public execution. Once done bringing him to the therapy room, she stormed off.
A grim looking, gray eyed man with a steely aura, motioned for Orison to sit. After giving a formulaic breakdown of his reason for being there and what he did, which Orison pretty much already knew, the man opened the floor for Orison to speak.
While giving the surface breakdown of all that his stay had entailed, Orison bit his thumb and silently drew a bloody circle on the table. Without batting an eye, the man followed both his spoken word and the note that appeared in the bloody circle before it became a light bit of dust. After acknowledging what he had seen with a slow nod and a spark of anger in his eyes, the man finished green checking that all Orison had SAID matched evaluation procedures, if barely.
The grim man explained. "Normally this is where I give you the breakdown as gently as I can considering what you've endured to reach this point... Seeing that you're steadier of mind than most I meet for the first time, allow me to give you a better idea of what you're looking at right now. As a minor and ward of the state, the government is your legal guardian and can hold you from your 'Path Day' until majority. The exceptions to that aren't reflected on your Bars chart or anything I've HEARD you say here."
The man pointed at the table and gave Orison a subtle thumbs up.
He then continued, "When your Path Day does come, whenever that will be, you'll be tasked with making the important decision to go independent or chose between government and the League of Extraordinaries. I'll be more candid with you than I am with most. It's not a clear cut choice.
"The government will give you a more structured environment with clear and visible rules. Your pay and perks will be set in stone and follow a progression you can count on. It really isn't a bad choice for someone who desires an uncomplicated and straightforward life."
The man stopped to look at Orison. The young mage slowly shook his head. The grim man silently acknowledged and continued, "Directionless independents have it rough. Those who apply their talents to ever needed civilian professions, particularly medical fields, will find a place to belong and acceptance by the powers that be as long as they live peacefully. Outside of that, specials who chose to be independent but aspire to be no more than self serving are seen as lazy cowards by most of the League and potential internal threats by the UTF."
The man stopped to look at Orison again. The young mage held out his hand and flipped it a couple times indicating he was considering it but not dead set to go independent.
Acknowledging again, the man took a calming breath and said, "About half who come for citizenship, earn it. Less than a quarter of the League members who serve past that, make it to retirement. Almost half overall leave service in an urn or coffin.
"Citizenship of Avalon requires ten years of active service and eight as reserves that can be called to active at any time. To retire with benefits requires twenty years active and eight years reserve. Educational and combat training prerequisites may only count for up to two of those years regardless of how long it takes to meet them.
"Avalon is a beautiful place but it was built on the bodies of its citizens. We fight and all too often, we die to defend this world that rarely shows more than contempt for us. Avalon is filled with knowledge and secrets because without them, we would have already fallen to our enemies and this world would fall with us. Avalon is a paradise because nothing less could nourish and heal those who constantly battle the darkness and are stained by it.
"We have more to offer for those who seek self improvement but we ask more for it. Ultimately, we are a meritocracy with all the flaws and advantages that implies. It is true that we have a physical and intellect standard for all citizens save those who have served their time. It is false that we deport those who struggle to meet them. Determination is a merit and as long as we see it, additional assistance will be provided."
The man waited in silence for Orison to digest that and answer questions. The young mage felt the draw. His instincts practically shouted that he needed to fight and even resign himself to participating in some spiritual predation if he wanted to climb higher than a couple more steps and a tier four range. It didn't HAVE to be then and there but it was the best time in his development to face a new type of baptism, one of death and violence. Still, he hesitated.
He didn't know how things had played out for Gan. He definitely knew that Stag had chosen the independent path and Ivan would most definitely WANT Avalon but he was unsure if Ivan was even alive. Somewhere along the way, he had lost Stag's mark after the Zeke ritual or many of those questions would already be answered.
Seeing his hesitation, the man said, "It's all theoretical but were you in a situation to choose, a minor can bring a guardian and up to two siblings to Avalon with them but those so chosen would be held by the same performance standards as everyone else."
Orison's had teased out that his vision while in the illusion of Duran, Stag and Droya were true visions. That meant there were only three people and possibly Rio that he was concerned with at the moment. There was a lot of uncertainty but he only really needed one 'family'. He felt responsible for Stag and Ivan somewhat but they were grown men with their own abilities to fend for themselves. He'd help Rio if he could but didn't feel any sense of debt or anything more than a bit of sympathy towards the boy. What was being offered was more than enough.
The young mage said, "It's a shame its only theoretical. I'm certain I would choose Avalon and not because of a desire for safety. To grow, I think I need a place like the League."
The man stood up and offered his hand to Orison which the young mage took, exchanging a solid shake before the man said, "At the LONGEST, you can be held by the system for THREE more years. If you hold steady, I'm sure they'll pass like DAYS. Stay strong and I hope you'll feel the same way then."
When they parted, there was a moment as he was being led back to his room where a slightly antagonistic conversation took place between the League man and the UTF woman. His paperwork would receive the man's clearance stamp after a week of dual agency therapy and Orison was to be given 'topside' accommodation. She countered that Orison was a ward of the state and that the education system could provide counseling, making clear that she didn't care for the young mage's lack of consideration for the UTF's investment in his well being and care.
He didn't hear the rest of the conversation but the older man who'd once beaten him to death, guided him to a new room. "You don't look traumatized to me. I think if you were given half the chance, you'd take another beating from me just for the privilege of taking a few more swings."
Orison said, "Especially if I got the performance enhancers and defensive gear while YOU wore the strike pads. Damn right I would and I'd enjoy it as much as you did."
The older man gave him a grudging nod of approval before walking away. After looking around at the doorless room with a window Orison walked out into the common area a few seconds later. The only other resident was a twelve year old girl who was silently crying while watching a cartoon show. The staffer behind the observation desk looked at the girl with a kind of vague sympathy.
He upped his spirit sight to just shy of eye glow in the slightly dim room. There was a small cluster of slowly fading spirit essence motes tied to her by a withering line. At one point, it could have been anything from a thought form to something more substantial like Jammers but its core had been ripped out. Since the girl could probably no longer feel it, the line of essence that allowed her to feed it was disappearing along with her belief that it was there still.
He sat down with a seat between them and whispered, "It's still there. I think it's letting itself fade because it blames itself for what happened to you here."
When she looked at him sharply, about to say something, Orison gave a pointed look at the doughy woman behind the desk.
She pretended to pay attention to the cartoon for awhile and once the woman's interest in the two faded back from alertness, the girl said, "I felt the metal ball take Rocky away. It took part of me away too and they didn't give it back. They told me not to lie and then they told me that Rocky was just tired but I can't feel him anymore. They killed him and they lied about it."
Orison replied, "They took your... friend's core. But you hold your memories with him and the ability to keep him alive until he can make another. He might not be exactly the same and it will take time but you can. The first step is convincing Rocky that you don't want him gone."
The girl started crying again. "I did. I told him I hated him and said all kinds of mean things because I did think it was his fault."
"Do you feel that way now?" Orison asked.
"No!' the girl said, loud enough to draw the staffer's eyes over to them.
The doughy woman said, "Eleven, do you want me to make thirty-two leave you alone?"
The girl tried her best to drum up a fake smile through all her fear and sadness. "No, it's alright. I'm just a little fuzzy headed from all the sleeping."
"Thirty-Two, you might be trying to make her feel better or something but touching of any kind between dorm residents is prohibited for any reason. If you don't want to be sent back down, keep that in mind," the staffer said.
After that, it was impossible for them to talk about the girl's issue directly but he said, "When I'm sad about someone who feels far away, I try to think of all my memories I have with them and make it into an envelope full of magic pictures. Then I send it to them like a prayer, believing as hard as I can that they will get it. Start from when you first met and don't try to send more pictures than you can fit inside the envelope. They have to be clear and even if that means one at a time, that's fine."
As mundane and not out of the ordinary as the girl's soul was, it possessed a quality that was beyond Orison's ability to see or understand. The negligible few motes of spirit essence the girl sent through her connection was almost lost under the sand grain sized motes of the essence Orison had identified as having to do with faith, 'faith essence' for lack of a better term. Seeing that the girl was 'praying' her memory letters fervently and with a closed eye intensity that made it seen bad to interrupt her, he got up and milled around.
Until his pacing caught the woman's attention, he absentmindedly noted that she had been sending 'memory letters' to someone too. No one was an island and the young mage's instructions couched in comforting rhetoric seemed to have inspired the doughy woman unintentionally. Even though the greedy world took the light dusting of spirit essence for itself, two tiny particles of faith essence drifted unhindered through the wall of the common room.
Apparently the woman's 'faith' wasn't that strong because as soon as her concentration broke to observe him, the two tiny motes drifted back in and were hijacked by the girl's 'friend'. Rocky didn't take them in. they just orbited around the tiny cloud of self contained spirit essence. He found himself inspired by the woman's unintentional inspiration and took a moment to find humor in the absurdity of it.
From day one, Orison saw how things were and the nature of evaluation week. The staff took an inventory of everything from the S\u0026M bars and used a prescribed list of ways to kill the person being examined that would allow them to be brought back with only a five percent or lower chance of 'unable to revive'. Every one of them designed to specifically target each bar for accuracy and performance. At least, that's how it felt to the young mage. He had to admit that there was little way to fool such an evaluation system. For his mystic bar, the woman handed him a device that looked vaguely like the one he'd used in White River to test magic reserve and recovery. Thing was, it wasn't a passive device. Within two seconds, it had sucked him dry and started chewing into his life force but the woman didn't stop it until after ten seconds. In his panic, Orison had let more slip from his space in an effort for the thing not to kill him. He couldn't imagine how such a test would devastate someone else. Not only had the device scoured his body clean, it would have halved his lifespan if he didn't have ways to recover it. What was worse, she only gave him a few hours and a lunch break before she did it again. They let him languish on the border of death for half a day before Orison realized they weren't going to do anything until he 'died'. It took everything he had to let it happen. The next day he awoke to his body being full of returned essence aside from his life force. He only received half of that back. He had a good feeling that if he said something, the stolen part might inevitably be returned with just a little missing but he held back. To test his E-class magic augmentation and as an extended evaluation of his D-class genetic deviation, the older drill sergeant looking guy fought/beat him to death. Orison kept the teaser suit in and barely hid the more advanced parts of his training. When it came to possibly winning, there was no hope of that anyway. Too many factors were stacked in the older man's favor. Orison watched on dispassionately from a spiritual viewpoint as the medical team suddenly had to fight to save his life seriously due to a sudden brain embolism that caused a massive stroke. There might be quite a bit of validity to stress testing under the threat of death but it seemed too much. There was no denying that Orison saw a glimmer of real enjoyment in the man's eyes. For the E-class sensitivity test, it was broken up into a 'haunted house' scenario where he almost died two times. Then it was a pain curse paintball portion that lasted for an hour and made Orison prefer a temporary death. Finally it was a plethora of mundane surprise assaults from people, rubber bullets and various other completely UN-supernatural things that only threatened his life once when one of the spring traps sliced his inner thigh. The week was over but he was left to languish alone in his room for another three days. The League representative's meeting with Orison had been postponed for that and another three days of 'therapy' that was more a validation of his treatment with shovels full of real and pseudo-scientific reasoning behind the tests. Regardless of how strong he thought himself to be, the young mage had legitimately been traumatized by the event. During one eight hour extended trance, after a PTSD flash of being beaten to death, Orison calmed his heart rate back down and thought, "No, there's another subtle thing instilled in all of this. It's something aimed at C-class and lower specials. Fear the government and tolerate abuse from humans. It might hurt but as long as you cooperate, you'll be okay." On the morning of his thirteenth day, the woman he called W-1 came in. "I'll be taking you to meet someone in a moment but first, I need to know that you understand the necessity of everything that happened here. If you don't, I can ensure you have all the time you need here to receive the explanations and any other kind of help you feel you may need." There was an entreaty and a subtle threat woven together in her words. Looking at Orison compassionately, she said, "When the League participated in the evaluations, it wasn't any different. I promise you that. If you believe that they're wrong, join the system and help make them better." Orison looked at her with dull, haunted eyes and said, "Children are born on Avalon every day. They stopped 'evaluating' because they found better and more humane ways to measure abilities and assess risk. The evaluation process of the UTF is quick, efficient, cost effective and nets them resources." The woman looked at Orison in horrified disbelief. "From the Bars to evaluation and the following special education, it costs the government one third of its yearly budget to deal with the full umbrella program. Only ten percent, sometimes less, contribute back in any meaningful way by working for the government." The young mage just shook his head. Accepting her 'defeat' in front of his 'ignorance', she marched him to the League representative with the suppressed anger of a military officer escorting a traitor to public execution. Once done bringing him to the therapy room, she stormed off. A grim looking, gray eyed man with a steely aura, motioned for Orison to sit. After giving a formulaic breakdown of his reason for being there and what he did, which Orison pretty much already knew, the man opened the floor for Orison to speak. While giving the surface breakdown of all that his stay had entailed, Orison bit his thumb and silently drew a bloody circle on the table. Without batting an eye, the man followed both his spoken word and the note that appeared in the bloody circle before it became a light bit of dust. After acknowledging what he had seen with a slow nod and a spark of anger in his eyes, the man finished green checking that all Orison had SAID matched evaluation procedures, if barely. The grim man explained. "Normally this is where I give you the breakdown as gently as I can considering what you've endured to reach this point... Seeing that you're steadier of mind than most I meet for the first time, allow me to give you a better idea of what you're looking at right now. As a minor and ward of the state, the government is your legal guardian and can hold you from your 'Path Day' until majority. The exceptions to that aren't reflected on your Bars chart or anything I've HEARD you say here." The man pointed at the table and gave Orison a subtle thumbs up. He then continued, "When your Path Day does come, whenever that will be, you'll be tasked with making the important decision to go independent or chose between government and the League of Extraordinaries. I'll be more candid with you than I am with most. It's not a clear cut choice. "The government will give you a more structured environment with clear and visible rules. Your pay and perks will be set in stone and follow a progression you can count on. It really isn't a bad choice for someone who desires an uncomplicated and straightforward life." The man stopped to look at Orison. The young mage slowly shook his head. The grim man silently acknowledged and continued, "Directionless independents have it rough. Those who apply their talents to ever needed civilian professions, particularly medical fields, will find a place to belong and acceptance by the powers that be as long as they live peacefully. Outside of that, specials who chose to be independent but aspire to be no more than self serving are seen as lazy cowards by most of the League and potential internal threats by the UTF." The man stopped to look at Orison again. The young mage held out his hand and flipped it a couple times indicating he was considering it but not dead set to go independent. Acknowledging again, the man took a calming breath and said, "About half who come for citizenship, earn it. Less than a quarter of the League members who serve past that, make it to retirement. Almost half overall leave service in an urn or coffin. "Citizenship of Avalon requires ten years of active service and eight as reserves that can be called to active at any time. To retire with benefits requires twenty years active and eight years reserve. Educational and combat training prerequisites may only count for up to two of those years regardless of how long it takes to meet them. "Avalon is a beautiful place but it was built on the bodies of its citizens. We fight and all too often, we die to defend this world that rarely shows more than contempt for us. Avalon is filled with knowledge and secrets because without them, we would have already fallen to our enemies and this world would fall with us. Avalon is a paradise because nothing less could nourish and heal those who constantly battle the darkness and are stained by it. "We have more to offer for those who seek self improvement but we ask more for it. Ultimately, we are a meritocracy with all the flaws and advantages that implies. It is true that we have a physical and intellect standard for all citizens save those who have served their time. It is false that we deport those who struggle to meet them. Determination is a merit and as long as we see it, additional assistance will be provided." The man waited in silence for Orison to digest that and answer questions. The young mage felt the draw. His instincts practically shouted that he needed to fight and even resign himself to participating in some spiritual predation if he wanted to climb higher than a couple more steps and a tier four range. It didn't HAVE to be then and there but it was the best time in his development to face a new type of baptism, one of death and violence. Still, he hesitated. He didn't know how things had played out for Gan. He definitely knew that Stag had chosen the independent path and Ivan would most definitely WANT Avalon but he was unsure if Ivan was even alive. Somewhere along the way, he had lost Stag's mark after the Zeke ritual or many of those questions would already be answered. Seeing his hesitation, the man said, "It's all theoretical but were you in a situation to choose, a minor can bring a guardian and up to two siblings to Avalon with them but those so chosen would be held by the same performance standards as everyone else." Orison's had teased out that his vision while in the illusion of Duran, Stag and Droya were true visions. That meant there were only three people and possibly Rio that he was concerned with at the moment. There was a lot of uncertainty but he only really needed one 'family'. He felt responsible for Stag and Ivan somewhat but they were grown men with their own abilities to fend for themselves. He'd help Rio if he could but didn't feel any sense of debt or anything more than a bit of sympathy towards the boy. What was being offered was more than enough. The young mage said, "It's a shame its only theoretical. I'm certain I would choose Avalon and not because of a desire for safety. To grow, I think I need a place like the League." The man stood up and offered his hand to Orison which the young mage took, exchanging a solid shake before the man said, "At the LONGEST, you can be held by the system for THREE more years. If you hold steady, I'm sure they'll pass like DAYS. Stay strong and I hope you'll feel the same way then." When they parted, there was a moment as he was being led back to his room where a slightly antagonistic conversation took place between the League man and the UTF woman. His paperwork would receive the man's clearance stamp after a week of dual agency therapy and Orison was to be given 'topside' accommodation. She countered that Orison was a ward of the state and that the education system could provide counseling, making clear that she didn't care for the young mage's lack of consideration for the UTF's investment in his well being and care. He didn't hear the rest of the conversation but the older man who'd once beaten him to death, guided him to a new room. "You don't look traumatized to me. I think if you were given half the chance, you'd take another beating from me just for the privilege of taking a few more swings." Orison said, "Especially if I got the performance enhancers and defensive gear while YOU wore the strike pads. Damn right I would and I'd enjoy it as much as you did." The older man gave him a grudging nod of approval before walking away. After looking around at the doorless room with a window Orison walked out into the common area a few seconds later. The only other resident was a twelve year old girl who was silently crying while watching a cartoon show. The staffer behind the observation desk looked at the girl with a kind of vague sympathy. He upped his spirit sight to just shy of eye glow in the slightly dim room. There was a small cluster of slowly fading spirit essence motes tied to her by a withering line. At one point, it could have been anything from a thought form to something more substantial like Jammers but its core had been ripped out. Since the girl could probably no longer feel it, the line of essence that allowed her to feed it was disappearing along with her belief that it was there still. He sat down with a seat between them and whispered, "It's still there. I think it's letting itself fade because it blames itself for what happened to you here." When she looked at him sharply, about to say something, Orison gave a pointed look at the doughy woman behind the desk. She pretended to pay attention to the cartoon for awhile and once the woman's interest in the two faded back from alertness, the girl said, "I felt the metal ball take Rocky away. It took part of me away too and they didn't give it back. They told me not to lie and then they told me that Rocky was just tired but I can't feel him anymore. They killed him and they lied about it." Orison replied, "They took your... friend's core. But you hold your memories with him and the ability to keep him alive until he can make another. He might not be exactly the same and it will take time but you can. The first step is convincing Rocky that you don't want him gone." The girl started crying again. "I did. I told him I hated him and said all kinds of mean things because I did think it was his fault." "Do you feel that way now?" Orison asked. "No!' the girl said, loud enough to draw the staffer's eyes over to them. The doughy woman said, "Eleven, do you want me to make thirty-two leave you alone?" The girl tried her best to drum up a fake smile through all her fear and sadness. "No, it's alright. I'm just a little fuzzy headed from all the sleeping." "Thirty-Two, you might be trying to make her feel better or something but touching of any kind between dorm residents is prohibited for any reason. If you don't want to be sent back down, keep that in mind," the staffer said. After that, it was impossible for them to talk about the girl's issue directly but he said, "When I'm sad about someone who feels far away, I try to think of all my memories I have with them and make it into an envelope full of magic pictures. Then I send it to them like a prayer, believing as hard as I can that they will get it. Start from when you first met and don't try to send more pictures than you can fit inside the envelope. They have to be clear and even if that means one at a time, that's fine." As mundane and not out of the ordinary as the girl's soul was, it possessed a quality that was beyond Orison's ability to see or understand. The negligible few motes of spirit essence the girl sent through her connection was almost lost under the sand grain sized motes of the essence Orison had identified as having to do with faith, 'faith essence' for lack of a better term. Seeing that the girl was 'praying' her memory letters fervently and with a closed eye intensity that made it seen bad to interrupt her, he got up and milled around. Until his pacing caught the woman's attention, he absentmindedly noted that she had been sending 'memory letters' to someone too. No one was an island and the young mage's instructions couched in comforting rhetoric seemed to have inspired the doughy woman unintentionally. Even though the greedy world took the light dusting of spirit essence for itself, two tiny particles of faith essence drifted unhindered through the wall of the common room. Apparently the woman's 'faith' wasn't that strong because as soon as her concentration broke to observe him, the two tiny motes drifted back in and were hijacked by the girl's 'friend'. Rocky didn't take them in. they just orbited around the tiny cloud of self contained spirit essence. He found himself inspired by the woman's unintentional inspiration and took a moment to find humor in the absurdity of it.
