M
Miles
Guest
think it will get me an 'A' I pulled at the weed, trying to get it to come up. It was stubbornly stuck, probably wrapped around the carrot it was next to. I wiped the sweat off my brow and looked up at the cave ceiling, and the small shaft of light that came in and helped the garden. Sunlight, how I’d love to see it, unfiltered, unobstructed. I sighed, and felt sweat trickling down my neck. Father said it was hot out there, hotter than the garden, and so bright your eyes leaked tears, and then went blind. He said it was so dangerous you’d be murdered in an eye blink, and it could become so cold you would be stripped of heat and covered in ice in an instant. Still, I longed to see it, to smell, it, to know, to decide for myself if I liked it.
I shook my head. The elders wouldn’t like these thoughts, would probably punish me if they knew them. The bell rang, signaling the end of my shift. School, then more labor, then finally blessed night. Joy.
-I sometimes wish I hadn’t been judged worthy, that I hadn’t been born of the great Matthias.-
I walked the corridors, dodging the boys in the pale blue robes of a novice. The halls were, narrow, and only two could walk abreast. I squeezed by, my slenderness an aid.
-I sometimes wish I could have a nice life in the living section, with the women, and the unworthy boys.-
I arrived in the classroom, the first one to arrive. Master Gideon was waiting, a switch in one hand, and a bible in the other. Not his usual pose, for sure. Then I remembered a new group of boys had been deemed worthy, and had been added to our class. 7 new ones every year, hand chosen by the elders to be perfect, to succeed and not be tempted by the treasure we guard. The un-ambitious ones, the ones who would never want to leave. The ones who would never want to live. I always wonder how I was chosen to be one, being how I’m cold, calculating, ruthless, ambitious, and every other similar label. I believe it’s because of my father Matthias, and his father Felix, and his father Jared, and so on, through the annals of our history. Bleh.
-My mother wasn’t a villager, this I know. It’s some great secret, a huge taboo. Only my father and I know. The other one who knew, the head elder of the time passed of old age. I was 7 when my father sat down and told me, the year I entered clerical school, the year I was deemed worthy. My mother was a vixen, a raven-haired goddess of beauty, apparently. A pale beautiful woman with purple eyes and black hair. That explained my looks. Unlike the rest of the children, I was not blond haired and blue eyed. I didn’t tan in the pale sunlight that came through into the garden. I was still pale, with fine straight black hair, and purple eyes, even more pale in the cowl of my robes.-
Master Gideon talked, about what I do not know. Probably about our history, our small community’s toils, how we survive, and why we’re here. I know this. Tomorrow is the ceremony, anointing us 7th years as apprentices. Great.
-I have to have my robes fitted. I would no longer have the pale blue robes of the novices, but the emerald greened ones of the apprentices. It will clash horribly with my eyes.-
“And so, my young lads, you have been deemed worthy. You will guard the treasure, you will take up the mantle of responsibility, one day, and one of you might even become high elder, the leader of our small community.” Master Gideon finished, his voice carrying through the classroom, and over the heads of 56 boys. 7 extra. 7 soon to be apprentices.
“Master Gideon? What will the ceremony be like? The leveling up one,” a boy asked. I think his name is Asher. Obviously a new boy.
“Well, Master Asher, you will be dressed in your old color, for you, white. It’s simple. You sit until your name is called, answer the questions asked of you, change, and sit on your designated bench. Easy. As for what it will be like, you’ll see.”
Bleh. I’ve sat through that for 7 years, each year going through the superficial and outdated ceremony. This year, I think I’ll be the first to leave, to pave my own way in the world.
-I’ll never do it. I’ve said that every year since I was 7. “I’m going to leave after this year.” I told my father that once. He slapped me, backhanded with his high elder ring, and my face bled. I haven’t told him that since I was 8. The scar still rests upon my cheek.-
“And, students, don’t forget, we have devotion tonight, being led by our very own graduating 7th years. You mustn’t miss it.” Right, like anyone would ever miss that. We weren’t allowed to. I rolled my eyes in disgust. Fortunately, I wasn’t caught. Not that I care.
Ah, devotion. The smell of sickly sweet incense, the boys chanting in their alto voices, some changed, some not. The grim worship, the keening, and bowing, and scraping. And me, the leader. What a farce. I couldn’t care less about his, about anything to even do with our community actually. I am leaving tomorrow. I must, for I can’t take another 7 years of this mockery. I feel as if I could just leave, I would be in control of my own destiny. I need this feeling, I believe, to survive, for surely I will be dead without it.
-I can imagine he conversation. “Father I must leave.” Or better yet, I can imagine announcing it at the graduation. Straying from the required speech, being the first person in our long history to leave without being on a quest or deed. They will carve my name on the wall, saying I was a traitor. I don’t care. I must get out. I have to for my sanity. For my life-
I shook my head. The elders wouldn’t like these thoughts, would probably punish me if they knew them. The bell rang, signaling the end of my shift. School, then more labor, then finally blessed night. Joy.
-I sometimes wish I hadn’t been judged worthy, that I hadn’t been born of the great Matthias.-
I walked the corridors, dodging the boys in the pale blue robes of a novice. The halls were, narrow, and only two could walk abreast. I squeezed by, my slenderness an aid.
-I sometimes wish I could have a nice life in the living section, with the women, and the unworthy boys.-
I arrived in the classroom, the first one to arrive. Master Gideon was waiting, a switch in one hand, and a bible in the other. Not his usual pose, for sure. Then I remembered a new group of boys had been deemed worthy, and had been added to our class. 7 new ones every year, hand chosen by the elders to be perfect, to succeed and not be tempted by the treasure we guard. The un-ambitious ones, the ones who would never want to leave. The ones who would never want to live. I always wonder how I was chosen to be one, being how I’m cold, calculating, ruthless, ambitious, and every other similar label. I believe it’s because of my father Matthias, and his father Felix, and his father Jared, and so on, through the annals of our history. Bleh.
-My mother wasn’t a villager, this I know. It’s some great secret, a huge taboo. Only my father and I know. The other one who knew, the head elder of the time passed of old age. I was 7 when my father sat down and told me, the year I entered clerical school, the year I was deemed worthy. My mother was a vixen, a raven-haired goddess of beauty, apparently. A pale beautiful woman with purple eyes and black hair. That explained my looks. Unlike the rest of the children, I was not blond haired and blue eyed. I didn’t tan in the pale sunlight that came through into the garden. I was still pale, with fine straight black hair, and purple eyes, even more pale in the cowl of my robes.-
Master Gideon talked, about what I do not know. Probably about our history, our small community’s toils, how we survive, and why we’re here. I know this. Tomorrow is the ceremony, anointing us 7th years as apprentices. Great.
-I have to have my robes fitted. I would no longer have the pale blue robes of the novices, but the emerald greened ones of the apprentices. It will clash horribly with my eyes.-
“And so, my young lads, you have been deemed worthy. You will guard the treasure, you will take up the mantle of responsibility, one day, and one of you might even become high elder, the leader of our small community.” Master Gideon finished, his voice carrying through the classroom, and over the heads of 56 boys. 7 extra. 7 soon to be apprentices.
“Master Gideon? What will the ceremony be like? The leveling up one,” a boy asked. I think his name is Asher. Obviously a new boy.
“Well, Master Asher, you will be dressed in your old color, for you, white. It’s simple. You sit until your name is called, answer the questions asked of you, change, and sit on your designated bench. Easy. As for what it will be like, you’ll see.”
Bleh. I’ve sat through that for 7 years, each year going through the superficial and outdated ceremony. This year, I think I’ll be the first to leave, to pave my own way in the world.
-I’ll never do it. I’ve said that every year since I was 7. “I’m going to leave after this year.” I told my father that once. He slapped me, backhanded with his high elder ring, and my face bled. I haven’t told him that since I was 8. The scar still rests upon my cheek.-
“And, students, don’t forget, we have devotion tonight, being led by our very own graduating 7th years. You mustn’t miss it.” Right, like anyone would ever miss that. We weren’t allowed to. I rolled my eyes in disgust. Fortunately, I wasn’t caught. Not that I care.
Ah, devotion. The smell of sickly sweet incense, the boys chanting in their alto voices, some changed, some not. The grim worship, the keening, and bowing, and scraping. And me, the leader. What a farce. I couldn’t care less about his, about anything to even do with our community actually. I am leaving tomorrow. I must, for I can’t take another 7 years of this mockery. I feel as if I could just leave, I would be in control of my own destiny. I need this feeling, I believe, to survive, for surely I will be dead without it.
-I can imagine he conversation. “Father I must leave.” Or better yet, I can imagine announcing it at the graduation. Straying from the required speech, being the first person in our long history to leave without being on a quest or deed. They will carve my name on the wall, saying I was a traitor. I don’t care. I must get out. I have to for my sanity. For my life-
