A transcript of the Midnight Company, stored within the Vault of Uriel

A: [B], are you kidding me? The Dark Brotherhood is filled with lunatics! I don't care how much money they are offering us, we can't accept a job from them.

B: [A], you don't understand.

A: What don't I understand? That they are hunted by almost every major civilization, across every bloody wave? That I literally, not figuratively, watched them drop an ENTIRE planet into the Void?

B: No, you don't understand. They offered us [indescipherable amount].

A: Oh ... All right then. Works for me.

I grasp the list in my right hand, barely able to concentrate as I approach the first location. A new building, completed during the time I was unconscious, lies between the docks and the manor. This locality, approximately three square miles in size, is quickly becoming the basis for Everwall’s new housing market.

Multicolored brick walls stand stoically among the occasional piles of wreckage that are nowhere near the sizes they were just a few short months ago. Gone are the ceilings of corrugated steel, replaced with new tile roofs. The blanket doors are also largely gone. Not every house has a nice new wooden door but some doors have been scavenged and repaired. All in all, the neighborhood looks as if it is finally nearing the end of its road to recovery.

It truly is a testament to the resilience of the people of Everwall and what they are capable of when faced with a crisis.

I stand in front of one such house and gently knock on the wooden door, the rap of my knuckles reverberating through the wood. It only takes a few moments before it opens with a creak, displaying a confused young teen inside. His skin is extremely pale, an almost ghostly white, that looks as if it hasn’t seen the sun in years. Jet black hair tumbles down his head and covers part of his face, but his eyes, two startlingly blue orbs, peek out from underneath.

He looks at me in shock and mumbles, “Can I help you?”

There’s something about his gaze that draws me in, causing me to almost lose myself in it before being jolted back by his words. This must be the son of the person I’m here to see. Standing up straight, I reply, “Hi, I’m looking for Andrew Wigg?”

“That’s me. What do you want?” He says, turning around and walking back into his dark home.

I can barely hide my shock. This young teenager is the Eminent Historian? I’d been expecting a wizened old scholar, not a pale young man who looks as if he hasn’t been outside in over a year.

But as soon as I look past his age, I realize that it makes sense. He radiates a sense of depth and understanding beyond his years. Is this the effect of his Class or was he like this before? Also, how did a teenager have the necessary Skill to be able to unlock a non-combat Class? In order to get a Skill that high in such a short time … his life before Genesis must have been nothing more than a singular focus.

I follow him into the poorly lit room and a few things become noticeable immediately. Large history tomes cover the ground arranged in a series of precarious stacks that look as if a light breeze might knock them over. Thick blinds cover the windows and the only light that can be seen comes from a thick candle, placed on a table by a large chair.

The chair looks as if it has seen better days. Poorly repaired rips, patches of other cloth, and fraying threads cover it entirely, but Andrew slides onto it as if it is the most comfortable piece of furniture in the world. His left hand snakes around to pick up a book from the floor and he quickly opens it up to the bookmarked page.

Staring at him, completely ignoring me to focus on the words in his lap, puts a smile on my face. While his particular brand of reading is more serious than mine ever was, he reminds me of a younger version of myself. Where his choice is history, mine was fantasy and science fiction. I lost hours, days even, to the endless tales of adventure and discovery.

“So you are the Eminent Historian that Julian told me about?” I ask, sitting down on the only other piece of furniture in the entire room, another old chair that lacks the love and maintenance that has gone into its counterpart.

He stops reading and looks up at me, the hint of realization in his eyes. “Julian told you about me?”

I nod. “He told me that you are trying to compile a living history of Everwall.”

The book in his lap is carefully placed onto the ground and then he hops off the chair, looking at me as if he is finally seeing me for the first time. “Holy shit, you’re Cael King. You’re the Candidate.”

He dives to the side and starts throwing things to the side. Pencils, loose papers, pens, and note cards go flying over the room, making even more of a mess, before he finally turns around with a thick leather book cradled in his arm. The word, Everwall, is majestically written on the cover in calligraphy. The swooping letters give the name a gravity, a deeper meaning that almost hints at what lies in those pages.

He opens the book and licks his thumb, using it to flick through the pages until he reaches a blank one. His other hand brandishes a pen and he quickly begins writing, occasionally glancing up to look at me before looking back down at the pages.

It doesn’t take him long to finish and then he looks up at me with those intense eyes. They look at me as if I’m more than a human, more than just a person. It is as if they look past me, towards the myth and the persona that has been built up around the town. Whether or not Andrew believes that seems to be irrelevant; he is a Historian and he will record.

“So tell me, why did you decide to become the Candidate for Everwall?” He asks, his hand held at the ready. It reminds me of reporters from the old world, asking questions and eagerly awaiting any response.

I hold up my palms to calm him down. “I don’t mind answering some of your questions but I want some of my own answered. Is that all right?”

His eyes narrow. “What kind of questions?”

“I’ve been unconscious for a little over two months and Julian tells me you’ve been talking to the people of Everwall. Learning about their lives, their personalities, their struggles, their Classes; their history. I want you to tell me about them.”

Despite the importance that this city has taken in my life, I don’t know it very well. I have a depth of knowledge in regards to a select few but I lack a broader understanding of the city as a whole. What are people's’ passions, dreams, and worries? I want to know all of that.

He nods his head and we begin the exchange of information.

I tell him a slightly edited story of all that I’ve been through. Of my struggles on Helldarvin, omitting Faul and Albassalas, and the resolve that I found at my lowest points. The things I had to do to survive, the creatures I had to kill, some of the Skills I had to learn. The overwhelming joy when I completed the requirements.

I tell him about my return to Earth. Of the elation I felt when my feet first touched the ground and I was able to smell the flowers and trees around me. My meetings with Peter, which fills me with a hollow ache, and his Hunters. My arrival of Everwall and my reunion with my parents. An altered version of how I heard of Marc’s death.

I tell him about the debates with the Council, the pushback I initially encountered when I wanted to be a Candidate. The First Trial and the battle with the Ungutarri. I tell him about their hatred of my Mana and the inkling of respect in their eyes when I gave them a warrior’s death. I describe the process of forming my team and what we did to train. Of the bonds of friendship that we formed.

He sits there silently through the whole process, the only other sound being the scratching of his pen flying across the pages. I lose myself in the story and he fills page upon page with little details that I happen to remember. The stifling red sun of Helldarvin, the weather on the day I returned, and the first time I saw Mana to name a few.

My tale finishes and then he begins.

He tells me about the people of Everwall. Of the jobs that have been created in the market. The feeling of self-sufficiency that the people have when they are able to feed their families on hard work alone. The strange lack of crime that seemed to occur a few months ago, leading to a sense of community that became ingrained. Children that begin to accept this new world as their reality.

He also tells me of the Classed, the title people have begun to give to those who have unlocked or discovered a Class. To my pleasant surprise, he tells the tale of a city that hasn’t separated into castes. Instead, the majority of the Classed, being non-combatants, have begun to create their own businesses, employing others within the city and teaching them their Skills. A few had attempted to capitalize on the cheap eager labor but a command from the City Council had made Skill mentoring a mandatory requirement in order to employ someone without a Class.

The various Classed are then given names and stories as he opens different pages of his book and tells me their tales.

Lyrica, the Musician of Emotion. A young woman who had been a talented violinist in a local symphony. To deal with the grief of losing one of her close friends, she had fallen upon old habits as a crutch. She filled her music with her grief and it was the only thing that got her through the loss. Eventually she discovered the Violin Mastery Skill and, with the help of the Council’s learning scholarship, was able to become the Musician of Emotion. She found that she was able to affect the emotion of her listeners by infusing her music with her most vivid memories. Lyrica now performs at a multitude of events, such as funerals, to allow her listeners to open up and experience the full depth of their emotion.

Josshay, the Diver. A friendly middle-aged man from the island of Barbados who had retired to the area in his fifties. His early years had been spent at sea, diving into old wrecks to try and discover ancient treasures. One such discovery gave him the funds he needed to explore the world. He eventually settled in the area around Everwall, buying a home on the lake a few miles from the city. Retirement didn’t suit him well. After a life of endless discovery, the idea of sitting around all day was numbing. To get rid of the boredom, he turned to the one thing he knew best; diving. To his surprise, he discovered things in the lake that had never been there before. Dangerous creatures, pearls, and unknown underwater plants became his new focus. The plants became especially valuable as they were found to have incredibly strong regenerative properties. Josshay decided to continue his dives but donates every ounce of the plant that he finds, as long as it goes directly to the guards and those injured in combat.

Kian, the Alchemist. A chemist in the old world, Kian had found new passion when interacting with some of the substances altered by Genesis. She was also the person who discovered the underwater plants healing properties. Kian was a woman of knowledge who focused entirely on her studies and experiments, waving away any attempts to understand her past. Why focus on the past, she had told Andrew, when the future is far more exciting?. She currently lives and works in a makeshift laboratory near the docks, focused on discovering more uses for Genesis altered materials.

Cole, the Teacher. A young man with a familiar story. A university graduate with a love for teaching who couldn’t find ways to pay off his debt. Depression had nearly taken his life but Genesis gave him the chance to reevaluate his goals. He was able to push past the sadness by finding solace in teaching once more. He discovered the Skill Impart, which allowed him to teach others any Skills he knew as long as he is above Level 30 in that Skill. He’s currently out with the combat squads, doing all that he can to learn various combat Skills. His goal is to ensure that the children of Everwall have all that they need to survive.

The Bone Doctor. A strange man who refused to give his name, saying he preferred his Class name. A recent addition to Everwall, the man had apparently wandered into the city a little under two months ago. He claimed to like Everwall because of its ‘close proximity to beasts that fit my interests’. He quickly fell in with the combat squads and reached Level 25 in record time. The Bone Doctor then proceeded to immediately quit the combat squads and now spends all his time in a cabin on the outer limits of the city. Strange creatures have been seen wandering around the area but no one has gotten close enough to be able to identify the creatures.

For the first time I feel connected to the individuals that make up Everwall. I may not know them but now I atleast know of them. Andrew has allowed me to step into their stories, their histories. He’s given me a window into their past so that I may now understand their future paths as their leader.

I look around and realize that night has fallen. Standing up and stretching my legs, I thank him for his hospitality and walk out into the cold night air, searching for more of Everwall’s stories.