When I got back to the inn, Wilmette was downstairs surrounded by a group of women. He waved me over to him and pulled up a chair when I approached.

“You are looking full of energy,” I said in much improved Cretan.

“Air. It agrees.” He nodded. “You too. I sense, full of energy. Healthy. Happy?”

I nodded. “I am both healthy and happy.”

“We go you name now then,” said Wilmette. “Bitches come!”

“They’re coming?” I said.

“Why not? Witnesses. Festive day. Not shriveled up bat or gobble like pussy Elm like. Should be around real women on an important day.”

I sighed. Wilmette went to the bar and bought six more bottles of the foul nameless booze he seemed to love, and then our strange procession began winding our way down the streets.

Of course, we had to make some stops. The women couldn’t possibly be seen at my maturing celebration in anything less than new dresses. So a detour to a seamstress was in order, and when we left the prostitutes were even more lovely than they had been before.

Then Wilmette spotted a street musician, and we had to stop, and I danced with all the girls, and his alcohol was passed around. Some of the other teenagers who were in town for their Status day celebration joined in the fun, and soon people were yelling “Happy maturing day Elm!” So, instead of simply moving on Wilmette hired the musician to follow us on our way.

Then we ran out of alcohol, so of course, we had to stop off at the next tavern to get more, and Wilmette bought a round of drinks for everyone in the bar. I and one of the girls took turns translated for him since he couldn’t speak the Magrith. We left that tavern with a couple of kegs of beer, several dozen cheap bottles of wine, ten more bottles of the rotgut Wilmette drank, another twenty people and two more musicians.

People kept yelling out my name. I became like some triumphant hero as our parade now wound our way to the House of the Status. “Happy maturing day Elm!” the girls in the group, not only the prostitutes now, but dozens of young women here for their status day ceremony ruffled my hair, kissed my head, pinched my cheeks, had my face weepily stuffed into cleavage, and in their inebriated way treated me like I was some long-lost just-reunited six-year-old family.

Before we got to the House of Status, we needed to stop off for booze three more times. Nearly two hundred people were following behind us. Some of the people in our party didn’t even seem to have a clue why they were following along. Just that there was free alcohol and it seemed fun.

As a mass, we walked into a side door of the hall. One of Wilmette’s prostitutes ran ahead to tell the official from the society of the Status why we were here. We waited in a long stone hallway that ran inside the building. The musicians couldn’t agree on what to play so they each started up a lively song and tried to outplay one another. It all blended into a loud but happy cacophony of music that somehow fit with the mood of our procession through the streets. Soon a group of people were dancing or at least trying to dance. More booze flowed. People seem to have brought their own cups or bowls, and none were empty for long.

At long last, an elderly woman in ceremonial robes came into a hallway where we were waiting. Even I was drinking by now, though not much since nervous energy was running through me. What name would Wilmette choose? Wilmette could be unpredictable at the best of times. Deranged and violent at the worst. Would I go through the rest of my life, forever known as gobble-fukr? I wanted to be sober enough to object if I got stuck with something terrible.

The woman in the ceremonial garb led us into an open amphitheater. We emerged onto the floor of the theater almost like a football team coming out onto the football field. Immediately the official from the House of Status delegated one of Wilmette’s women to direct the drunken party goers into the seats around the main stage, where the party continued even more uproariously.

Myself, Wilmette, the rest of the prostitutes, and the official then walked onto the center of the stage. There was a raised podium with a giant globe that cracked with mana to one end of the stage, but we ignored that.

Instead, the woman in the ceremonial garb raised her arms and said “Silence!” in a voice like thunder and everyone cheered. “I mean it, Silence! I Frida Nightjar Longleaf demand Silence!” The room stilled to a steady whisper, and even the musicians stopped playing.

“We come together on this solemn and august occasion to celebrate Elm’s first great step towards manhood. Elm has survived the winters and weathered the summers of our great empire, and they have made him strong. No longer is necessary for him to simply grow under the whims of those men and beasts that pass him by, it is time for him, like all life, to step out of his flora stage, and transition into his fauna stage, moving one step closer to when he can fully become a human, and take on a human name.”

From the stands someone yelled out “Happy maturing day Elm!” and a dozen other people called out my name imitating him. Someone else in the crowd took the opportunity to vomit loudly.

Frida yelled out “Silence” yet again, and the crowd quieted quickly.

Frieda Nightjar Longleaf turned to Wilmette and said “You are this boy’s guardian and mentor. Do you have a name for him?”

Standing beside him the prostitute who had been helping out by translating what Wilmette said to all the bartenders, drunks, musicians, raconteurs, and gamblers we had passed by in the street, translated what the Naming and Status official said into Cretan for Wilmette. I hadn’t taken the time to look at her before, but she had the loveliest brown hair.

Wilmette said, “Elm always little pussy. Elm is named Lynx.”

The prostitute with the nice hair translated what Wilmette said (thankfully leaving out the editorialization), and the official took out a six by eight-inch metal plate, a silver plated bowl, a pen, and a small knife, from a bag she was carrying.

“Elm hold out your arm,” she commanded. So I held out my arm, and with a practiced slice, Frieda cut open my Radial artery and directed the now spurting blood into the silver bowl. When there was about a half an inch of blood filling the bottom of the vessel, she casually cast the runes for healing and the cut on my arm sealed up.

“Elm, by writing your name on this plate, I link you by blood and by name with every citizen of this great empire.”

She dipped her pen in my blood and then wrote out the words Lynx Elm in large Magrith letters across the plate. When the letters were fully formed, she cast another spell, similar to so many of the life and healing spells I had cast so far, but also completely different. The letters of my name seemed to sink into the metal plate as if fading into a great distance and then they disappeared.

“I welcome you Lynx Elm of House Lysturgus and the Clan Naato, newly awoken into your maturing, may your voyage to humanity be fruitful and your contributions to our society by many.”

Somehow the crowd knew that the ceremony was over and the peanut gallery burst into cheering and chanting. Half of them were yelling “Lynx” or “Lynx Elm” while the other half were yelling “More beer” or “I think I’m going to be sick” the three musicians had decided to stop playing against each other and had formed a trio, and started playing a raucous and joyful tune. All of Wilmette’s ladies took turns kissing me while Wilmette glared at me with jealousy until his women finished and went back to fondling him. Then he came over and slapped me on the back.

Now that the ceremony was over I turned to Frieda and asked her “What’s that?” pointing at the glowing sphere.

“It is the artifact that powers the transfer of status magic young Lynx. When you turn sixteen when you become a human and a man you will take your place in our society and a representative from our order will channel the sacred magic through the sphere, and your status will appear. But don’t worry, you still have to prove yourself in our society before you can take that step. Do great things, and when you are sixteen, maybe we will meet again.”

We didn’t make it back to our inn that night. Somehow we managed to make it to the great park that ran through the town. The number of musicians had swelled to a dozen, and some industrious boys had chopped down some of the trees which grew majestically along the edge of the stream and built a massive bonfire.

Even more beer had been purchased. I’d even donated some gold coins for a dozen more kegs and two whole pigs which were spitted and were now being slowly turned over a pit.

A group of girls had dragged me over to the stream and were playing a game. They would spin a bottle and every time it landed on one of them; they would have to kiss me. Every time the bottle faced me, I would have to take a sip of beer.

For a second I thought I caught sight of Wilmette in the darkness for an instant. It looked like he was following what looked like two very drunk teenagers who were stumbling around looking for a place in the night to sleep it off. Wilmette seemed to have a predatory look in his eye, and I would have sworn I saw the glint of a knife in his hand. Maybe I imagined things, the park was an open field of grass and hardly private. But I tried to get up, to warn someone, but at that moment a girl with sandy blond hair and a thick joyful laugh pushed me back down and stuffed her tongue in my mouth.

The next morning I woke up asleep in the grass with the worst headache I had had in this or any of my lives. Dozens of people were snoring all around me. I quickly cast healing runes on myself.

Then wentlooking for a shirt, since I didn’t seem to be wearing one. It was hard to find places to walk without waking anybody up. I still had my pants and a single shoe on. My money was also gone. And the only good thing about that was that I had almost already spent the amount I had taken out of the bank, and still had a lot more in the bank.

The dagger I’d had with me the night before was gone, though I still had it’s scabbard attached to my belt. And the probably the only reason I’d managed to keep my brand new sword is that even in my drunken state I’d managed to cradle it to my chest as I slept. I would need to see if I could get that sword linked to me by blood. In all honesty, I probably would have gone somewhat homicidal had I needed to find and get my new sword back.

It occurred to me that the only reason that someone hadn’t sliced my throat last night while they pilfered me was that they probably hadn’t thought of it.

I found another shoe that fit after about a half an hour of searching. It wasn’t my shoe. Furthermore, it was poorly made and uncomfortable. But at this point, a shitty shoe was better than being barefoot.

I could not find my shirt.

While I was looking, I’d also offered my services as a healer, curing the hangovers of nearly a dozen people who were awake. It was a massive drain on my energy, and I forced myself to stop so that the overflow that I had gotten the day before would not be wasted.

On my way back to the Inn where I was staying, I stumbled in my ill-fitting shoe to the bank, a cobbler, and a tailor, and a restaurant for breakfast in that order, to fill my various needs for the morning. Well fed, and in an entirely new set of clothing, I walked through the streets feeling slightly better than I’d woken on them.

Back at my Inn, I wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and go to sleep. I was exhausted. There was no sign of Wilmette in the common room, but I assume that he was back upstairs having fun or sleeping things off.

I was about to go up the stairs myself, but the innkeeper called me over.

“A servant brought this over for you this morning.” He handed me a letter with a wax seal.

I sat down at one of the tables and broke the seal to the letter.

Lynx Elm,

I would like to congratulate you on your recent advancement towards the world of men. There are some things we must discuss. At your convenience, please visit me at my manor.

Lord Er Peregrin Mahogany

It took me a while to get the directions to Lord Er’s house. People knew him, but not many people in the city had actually visited him. Eventually, I just went to the walled inner plateau overlooking the rest of the city asked the guards for directions from there.

Lord Er’s home, unlike the many clay brick homes in most of the town, was an enormous edifice built from massive polished blocks of the local mountain’s pyrite veined black granite and imported white marble accents. Like all the houses of the wealthy, there was a servant waiting out front ready to announce visitors. I waited in the screening room as the servant entered the house to announce me.

Another servant came out to guide me to Lord Er.

“Ah, Elm… or should I say, Lynx Elm, congratulations on your maturing day.”

“Thank you, my Lord. It is exceptionally kind of you to have me in your thoughts.”

“Nonsense. I have already sent a message to your father, and he no doubt approves of your growth as well. It is to that end that I have asked you here today. Your father has sent me word of your next assignment and your promotion.”

“Promotion?” I asked.

“Of course. You are of the age to begin to accept responsibility. On their Maturing day most people are formally accepted into their apprenticeships, did you not think the same thing would happen to you? Come with me Lynx Elm as I formally induct you into your new life.”

Not knowing what to expect but worrying, I followed along as Lord Er led me through the halls of his home and into a sanctum dedicated to arms and past victories. On a pedestal there was a sword that crackled with mana and an enormous dungeon core had been built into its hilt. From out of the darkness of the room stepped five inquisitors in full regalia.

Lord Er walked the pedestal where the sword lay in honor and lifted it, drawing it from its sheath. The blade was thinner than a normal. More a saber than a long sword and the metal was black flecked with silver and red.

“We have among us someone who seeks to enter the ranks of the inquisitors. He has been put through trials and found worthy. Does anyone here have anything to say either for or against this candidacy?”

None of the inquisitors in the room made a sound.

“Kneel, Elm,” I hesitated. Did I really want to become an inquisitor? It was strange that nobody had asked me my opinion on this matter.

“Kneel, Elm,” and someone from behind me kicked my legs out from beneath me and I went crashing to the floor. I got up, and when I was on my knees and ready to stand, two of the inquisitors in the room grabbed me by the shoulders and held me in place.

I looked up at Lord Er. He smiled, and then like a snakes tongue the sword — crackled with a strange kind of energy, similar and yet entirely different from all the mana I had seen so far — shot out and stabbed me through the chest. I felt every inch of the metal from the weapon slide through my body. Felt it sever my spinal cord on the way out. Felt my blood pour down my clothing and gather in pools on the floor. My mana flowed into the sword, and I felt my heart stop. Yet I stayed conscious. Alert. There was a giant bar of metal running through my body, and it felt like my world was on fire, and yet I was entirely focused on Lord Er, my murderer.

“Lynx Elm, do you swear to follow the Laws of this Land as you know them.”

That was easy; nobody had told me any laws, even killing Twice-Lived up until now seemed more a tradition than something codified. I was splitting hairs here, but the words “as you know them” left a lot of wiggle room. I would have wondered if that was on purpose, but my life was literally hanging on the edge of a blade.

“I do.”

“Lynx Elm, do you swear to uphold the Laws of this Land, as you know them.”

“I do” I croaked blood pouring out of my nose and mouth.

“Lynx Elm, do you swear to enforce the Laws of this Land, as you know them.”

“I do.” There was nothing left in me. I couldn’t even say I was hanging onto my life by a thread because the only thing keeping me alive — somehow — was the sword that had been rammed through my chest.

Lord Er pulled the sword out of my body and re-sheathed it. The gaping hole in my chest healed as if it had never been there. My spinal cord fixed itself as if it had never been severed. My heart started up. All the mana was drained from my body though. Even the excess that I had stolen from the forest with my knack.

“Welcome Lynx Elm, welcome into the ranks of the seekers. You may be the most junior branch of the Inquisition, but your duties are not insignificant.” Lord Er walked back to the pedestal and replaced the sword. He then took out a platinum ring from a drawer, and a knife then walked back over to me.

“A bit more of your blood Lynx,” he said and gestured to my hand. Using the knife, he pricked it and let the drops of blood fall onto the band of platinum. Runes so similar to life runes but so different formed on the blood and the ring, and then they disappeared. He then placed it on my finger.

“You are one of us now. Tested by the sword. Banded on the finger, until death do you part. Congratulations. There is a room set aside for you to clean up in. There are also official inquisitor clothing for someone of your rank of your size. Once you are done, come see me before you leave. A servant will bring you to me.” Lord Er said.

Exhausted I was led out of the inner room by the two inquisitors who had been holding me down. I grunted “thank you” and saw one of the two, the man, nod. When we were in the hallway, I was transferred into the helpful arms of a waiting servant who helped me into another room. There was a bath, a table with some food and drink laid out, some chairs, and a full set of inquisitor garb in my size hanging from a hook on the wall.

I ate and drank first, and the food helped me recover more than anything. There was a weak mana potion that had been dosed into the juice on the table, and that helped me recover even more. The servant asked if I needed help bathing, and I told him “no, I can manage on my own.” He nodded and said “I will return in half an hour to take you to Lord Er,” before he left

The pool of water was warm. This room had obviously been set aside for ceremonial purposes. It spoke to Lord Er’s wealth that he could dedicate an entire space of this size for the occasional guest who needed to be initiated into the order. But then there was undoubtedly a lot of Inquisitor business that I knew nothing of, and maybe this room saw more use than I assumed.

There was a fresh, fragrant soap that smelt of ambergris and sandalwood and even a loofah prepared for use. The water was warm but not overly hot. I washed myself, and then not seeing any other alternative, put on the inquisitor garb. There were even boots that must have been had mana used somewhere in their construction because there was no way they could feel so comfortable otherwise. I left the clothes I had just purchased this morning. They were covered in blood and had an enormous sword cut through the front and back.

Dressed in my new uniform and feeling every inch the little Hitler Youth, I sat down and waited for the servant to reappear. And eventually, I was ushered back into Lord Er’s presence.

He looked me over. “Well and fondly do I remember the moment when I stood where you stand now. The future was about to open up in front of me. No longer tied to my name and family, but part of something greater than myself. Congratulations Seeker Lynx Elm.”

“Thank you, Lord Er. Just out of curiosity, has anybody ever said no during the ceremony?”

“It has happened. Occasionally some candidates are not able to answer truthfully or simply say no. I have never seen it. Usually, the candidates are well vetted before they reach the point of swearing in, but it does happen. I am told that those occasions are unpleasant for everyone involved. Killing a youth, especially one in which the order has found promise is never something undertaken lightly. Necessary sometimes, but never undertaken lightly.

“Now keep in mind Lynx Elm, the ceremony is never spoken of among outsiders and those seeking entrance to our ranks. It is a ritual that would become tarnished if it was expected by every initiate or known to the wider world. I am not asking you to swear to keep this secret; I am simply asking you, on your name and honor not to mention it.”

“Of course Lord Er. Though I wouldn’t even know who to tell. I’ve never met another initiate. I didn’t even know that I was an initiate until today.”

Lord Er nodded but said nothing. Then he spoke, “You must feel tired.” He pushed a rose crystal bottle to me.

I removed the stopper, and the heavenly scent of coffee filled the room.

“Drink it. It is a rare mana potion, made from the Palmatiri root, quite valuable. Usually, I don’t give these out to new initiates. But considering your father, and the tasks ahead of you, I thought this might be helpful.”

I raised the mana potion to my lips and drank. A feeling of power and energy washed through me. Not only was I filled with mana, but my overflow held a healthy amount now too. Petunia Petunia-eater Petunia had mentioned the Palmatiri plant. It sold for nearly a full platinum piece when it was found. Now I knew why.

“Now on to the task ahead of you. Your father has sent word that you are to go to the border of the Empire and the kingdom of Argran. A war has broken out there; though this is the fourth war that has broken out along that border in the last twenty years. There is a powerful mage with either the pyromancer knack or more likely holding a dungeon core taken from an old flame affinity dungeon.

“As an Inquisitor Seeker, you automatically hold the rank of Lieutenant in our Empire’s army. Your task is to report to Lord General Aram Heron Sequoia in three weeks. He will assign you your duties. Good Luck, and behave yourself as an inquisitor would.”

I made my way back to the inn where I was staying. Where before, the ebb and flow of the festive crowd pulled me along with it, as I walked dressed as a member of the Inquisition, people made way in front of me, and I seemed to walk inside of an invisible bubble of force within which nobody entered. It made me tired and a little depressed.

Wilmette was back in his room. It was closed, and a characteristic grunting and giggling made me avoid lingering in the hallway. The innkeeper had addressed me as “My Lord” for the very first time, and the entirety of the common room had silenced when I entered it. There had been a package from Lord Er on my bed when I entered, and when I opened it I found four more uniforms.

Instead, I chose to sit on my bed in my room reading the spell book on healing that I had bought a week and a half ago. I read until darkness and learned how to prevent a breech birth in horses, how to clean the impurities from water, wards to keep lice, bedbugs, and gnomes out of a building, a way to curse mice with insanity and visions, a way to detect snoopy neighbors, and a way to purge the demon king from tulip bulbs. The book did not explain what the demon king was doing in tulip bulbs, but I memorized the spell just in case.

When it was nearing sunset, I put on some of my old clothes. I left my sword and my knife and most of my money except a few coppers and two silver, inside my room, I did hide a gold piece inside my shoe just in case.

Moving to the tiny barred window looking down at the courtyard below, I shifted into the strange world of black and white and shadows. Mana began pouring into me, and I stepped from out of my room down into a lingering darkness down below. From there, still moving as time was slowed, I made another movement and found myself in the alleyway in back of the inn where I had killed the pimp. There I stepped out of the world, filled with an excess of energy and power.

There I shifted my appearance to be someone else. I changed my hair to a messy black and covered my face with the first traces of acne and baby fat. I removed some of my muscles and made myself heavier, stocky. And then, no longer looking anything like Elm, I set out into the streets and made my way to that long central park where I had been spending so much time recently.

This morning while I had been occupied, the Solstice Status ceremonies had begun, and I had to admit I was curious.

Even though it was almost dusk, someone told me that this year the ceremonies would continue until midnight, and resume again with the dawn. There was a line that had formed of teenagers waiting nervously and impatiently at the main doors to the House of Status. I joined the back of the line.

“Aren’t you a little young to get your status?” said an older boy

“I’m not here to get my status. I’m here with my sister and my mom and dad. Kitty is really nervous, and no matter how much dad tell her it’ll be okay, she won’t come out of the room at the inn. I wanted to watch the process. If it don’t hurt, I’ll tell sis, and maybe set her mind at ease. Can I join you? Can I, please, please.” I said trying to hid my noble accent. It was the story I had come up with while I’d walked over.

The older boy laughed. “Sure, I’m Steer Ivy. This is my twin sister Cow Ivy. I know. I know. It was confusing our whole life with our parents naming us so close.” He put his arm around the girl who was standing next to him. “Cow Ivy, this is… what is your name?”

“I’m Potato.” I said.

“Cow Ivy, this is Potato.”

“Nice to meet you Potato. The mayor of our town was named Potato, well it is really Har Raccoon Potato, but he must have been a Potato when he was your age, anyway, and he must be 80 and he married little Car Fawn Milkweed last year when she came home from her status festival and Potato, this is Rabbit Thistle and Canary Corn they are our friends, we met them in the park, and my brother thinks that Canary is pretty.”

“Cow!” Yelled Steer.

“Well you, do Steer, I don’t know why you don’t just tell her, you can get married here really easy, too. So many people boys and girls do. They come for their status, and they come back home to the farm with a new husband or wife, bring new blood into the village like Har Raccoon Potato says, and he is right even though he is disgusting…”

“It isn’t safe to be alone,” the boy named Rabbit Thistle spoke for the first time. “I heard that the necromancer killed two more people last night.”

“There’s a necromancer!” I said.

“Yeah. That’s why there are so many people in line right now. Normally this celebration goes on all week. Now people want to get this done as fast as possible and then get out of the city. They even extended the hours until midnight. Normally, the House of Status is open from dawn to dusk only.”

“I’ve never seen a necromancer,” I confessed.

“Nobody has, Potato. If you see a necromancer, you’re as good as dead. I hope the inquisitors get them and burns them real good.”

“Scary,” I shivered. “I hope we’re safe in our inn. So do you know what happens when you get your status. My ma and pa haven’t told me nothing.”

“Nothing fancy,” Steer said. “You go in there, and someone from the House of Status will ask you what kind of status you want. Then they give it to you. My older brother says it hurts like nothing else. But I think he was fooling to make me scared.”

“Type of status? I thought there was only one.” I said.

“Where is your farm that you don’t know.”

“Way out on edge near the forest. Ain’t nobody near us.” I said defensively.

“There are four different types of status,” said Cow Ivy. “Copper, Silver, Gold, and Platinum. I don’t know anything about Gold and Platinum Statuses, nobody I know has one except Har Raccoon Potato who people say has a gold status, and he is disgusting, and I ain’t know nobody who wants to ask him. They cost ten copper, or 10 silver, or 10 gold, or 10 platinum to get though, that is only tradition, and nobody charges anything for a Copper Status anymore, so everyone I know gets it.”

“What happens when you get a copper status?”

Steer Ivy answered, “When you put a drop of blood on a status plate, you can see your important stats. Things like how strong you are, how fast you are, how tough you are. You know when you are sick and how hurt you are because it tells you how much healthy you have left.”

“And you get Freedom Points. Don’t forget Freedom Points. They are the most important thing. At least that is what Har Raccoon Potato says but he is disgusting, and he could be lying.” Said, Cow Ivy.

“What are Freedom Points?” I asked as our position inched forward in the line.

“When you get a Copper Status you get 150 Freedom Points automatically. Freedom Points make you better. They make you more free.” said Rabbit Thistle before lapsing again into silence.

“He’s right.” Said, Steer Ivy. “Everyone who gets a Copper Status automatically gets 150 Freedom points. Freedom Points make you better. I don’t know the exact Math of it, but Freedom Points improve all your stats. Let’s say your status says you have a ten strength, a ten stamina, and a ten agility. If you have 150 Freedom points your Status is automatically changed to 15 Strength, 15 Agility, and 15 Stamina. If you have 200 Freedom points your Strength become 20, Stamina 20, and so on.”

“Wow,” I said. “That’s neat. How do you get Freedom Points.”

Our position in line was slowly moving forward. We were inside the building now. The sky outside had turned to a deep dark night.

“Working hard. Obeying the Nobles. Bringing in the Harvest. Being Honest. Paying you taxes. Finding Twice-Lived. Serving in the Army. It is easy. Do things you would normally do, and you get stronger. And it is Free. Copper Status is the best.”

“Can you lose points?” I asked.

“Yes. If your Freedom points ever drop to zero you die. And the less you have under 100, the harder your life gets. Silvers don’t have Freedom Points so if someone is really unlucky, like if a noble holds grudge against them, sometimes the only way to save their life is to wait until Solstice and upgrade their status to Silver. But it expensive. Not many people in our village, except maybe Har Raccoon Potato can save up ten silver,” said Cow Ivy.

“You can lose points?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t happen often and only to bad people. You lose Freedom Points by committing crimes, disobeying a noble, adultery, talking against the empire, being a twice lived, stealing, being lazy, being a no good. I mean who wants to live like that anyway. If you’re parents taught you right, points are easy, and you just get stronger and stronger, and you can work harder and harder. Or you can become a better and better soldier.”

“It sounds great. Silver Status people don’t get Freedom Points?” I said.

“Yeah, Silver status people are so much weaker than us Copper status people. But they don’t have to go to a Status plate to see their status; they get a blue screen that appears in front of them. And other stuff, useless stuff I guess. I don’t know much about it. Silver people are real uppity and hoit-toity about their status and don’t talk about it much. I guess they would have to be if they want to spend that much money when a copper status is basically better and free.” Said, Cow Ivy.

“So you all are going to get Copper statuses?” I asked, and Canary, Cow and Steer all nodded, none of them noticed when Rabbit Thistle didn’t. We were standing in the auditorium where I had had my naming ceremony, and I was about to make my way into the seats to watch, everyone in the group was excited and ready to move forward, and I wanted to watch the process, though I was much more interested in seeing the process up close.

Just before I stepped into the seats, Rabbit Thistle grabbed my arm and whispered, “I’m getting a silver status. I’m in love with a boy, but a boy and another boy would lose too many Freedom Points. We would both be dead in a year. We both need to have silver statuses to be together.” Then he let my arm go, and I moved into the stands, and I could see the glint of silver coins in his hands.

I found my place into the seats. There were far fewer people watching than there had been the night before at my maturing naming celebration. I was tempted to gloat about that until I overheard the person sitting next to me say something about “stuck up noble with free booze yesterday,” at which point I focused on what was happening down below.

It was an orderly process. Each young boy or girl would step onto the stage. The official who had been at my naming ceremony yesterday, Frieda Nightjar Longleaf, held a staff in one hand. She had the boy or girl touch the giant glowing sphere on the dais, and as the mana from the sphere began coursing through their body, she touched them with her staff and said one word.

As I watched the glow around the boy or girl usually turned a bright copper color. The way the mana behaved was unlike anything I had ever seen before. The way the Frieda cast the spell was unlike any way I had ever seen a spell cast. There were no runes involved, just a brief surge of mana, and then she moved on to the next young boy or girl.

I watched as Canary, Cow, Steer, and Rabbit all took their turns getting their status. Each one of them looked ecstatic when they got to look at their statistics for the first time. And the aura that surrounded Rabbit turned Silver, before disappearing. I was tempted to go down and join them as they chose their adult names and to celebrate with them, but somehow I didn’t feel like it, so I quietly slipped out a back door and into the night.