The Test

All of Kasai gathered in the village center, all but Kilo who had already said his goodbyes to Eil with the confidence only him, of the entire village, could display. It went along the lines of: take care of yourself above all, never see yourself above the gods, remain humble, and survive until you are reunited with your father. His final words to Kilo were this: if the gods had wanted our respect, they would’ve done better by us.

Eil held his nose closed firmly and leaned forward to prevent his nosebleed from reaching his mouth. With his other hand, he awkwardly tried to wipe away tears.

The proctor was a young woman in her twenties with two horses pulling a caravan carrying a cage large enough to sit twelve comfortable children. On her shoulder was a quadrupedal owl, eyes taking in everything at once, darting back and forth in such a fashion that it was a shock to Eil that it did not keel over from fatigue and dizziness. The woman with a bow strapped to one side of her waist, and a quiver on the other, had tightened braids in a pony tail, a plated chest piece, and a heavily patterned dress under. She greeted Tacus with a warm smile and lacked the sternness Eil was accustomed to seeing from exam proctors.

A series of other more pristine caravans followed carrying the prefect – there to oversee the test and ensure there was no malpractice from the Leonaisian proctor. The proctor was not quite trusted with maintaining the minimal sanctity the test held. Damos Claeys, for his part, never stepped out of his caravan, but Eil didn’t doubt his presence. Instead, the prefect’s petite assistant Asa was there noting down everything in her clipboard.

“Good morning villagers of Kasai, my name is Sami. I’m a three-star ranked animist of Leonaise. I am here to test those born in the 18th Year of the Rainbow Platypus, Azereal. Those of you of age may come forward.”

Eil resisted grinning. He turned around to his siblings, of which Lina was the only one kind enough to cry.

“I know you don’t like them, but can I have a hug before you leave?” Nala asked.

“I never said I didn’t like them.”

“But you-”

Eil hugged her before she could continue. Lina joined in unbidden. Out of a desire to follow suit, Od and Niel hugged them as well.

Ves glared once they finally disentangled. “I think you’ll die.”

“Well, okay. Try to live long enough to see if you were right or not.”

“All this time I could’ve hugged you more?” Nala asked.

“You’ll get your chance again in two years.”

“If you live,” Nala she muttered.

“You’re all very encouraging. Thank you.”

With that, Eil made his way to the rest of the villagers his age. Unlike Eil, most didn’t bother saying their farewells to their family. Unlike Eil, most did not expect to pass the test.

Sami eyed them all – aside from Eil who’d shown too much confidence for her liking – without judgment.

“The test will be very simple. We will sit down facing each other, and I will gauge whether you have the natural gift of an animist or not. Those who do will go with me to King Paulus's Military Institute to become elite animists of Leonaise and the sovereign state of Buffon. You will be called in alphabetical order to undertake the test. Are there any questions?” None raised their hands, partially from being shy, and partially from having seen this done every year since they’d arrived in the village at the age of three. “Then we will proceed.”

Asa spoke up, “Akilo, son of Alin and Tevro.”

A plump boy, unusual in the village but for Tacus, stepped forward. He nervously sat in front of Sami. Between the bulging eyes of the owl on Sami’s shoulders, and the pressure of the test, Akilo could barely sit without swaying back and forth.

“I’ll need you to sit still.”

“Okay. Sorry. Okay.”

“Focus on me.”

“Yes. Sorry. Okay.”

“Are you ready?”

“I think?”

“Okay.”

In the span of a sixth of a second, something grabbed the owl’s attention and his eyes swung past Eil. The abrupt change in focus was all that was needed to scare a nervous Akilo who flinched backwards. This convenient set of events occurred right as Sami threw a fist no one present from the village aside from Eil and Nala could readably track. Yet, Akilo’s timely flinch was enough to allow him to clearly avoid the strike. Surprise was writ on Sami’s face.

“There must have been a mistake, I believe we should administer the exam a sec-” she started.

“There are no mistakes, proctor,” the prefect’s assistant said. “And no second attempts. Akilo has shown the gift of an animist and will be registered to King Paulus's Military Institute. Stand up and stand behind that man.”

“What?” Akilo replied.

“It wasn’t the ‘gift’, it was just a coincidence,” Sami whispered, but the assistant ignored her.

“Mom?” Akilo said. Dismayed, disappointed, and more afraid than he’d been before the test.

“Akilo, this is good, do as they say,” his mother said.

“I don’t want to go!”

He did not have a choice. Keen on having the process move forward, Asa gestured with her head towards the boy, and one of the prefect’s soldiers hauled him to his feet and half-dragged him away.

“This is an honor, Akilo. You’ll take care to remain respectful to these proceedings lest you want to suffer consequences,” the prefect’s assistant said. “Next is-”

Two more would go before Eil’s opportunity. Neither of them passed. They sat without reacting, realizing far too late that Sami’s fist was now before them.

“Eil, son of Kilo, step forward.”

Eil finally released the pinch on his nose and was grateful more blood didn’t start pouring than the initial burst that’d stayed clogged there. He wiped clammy hands on his thighs and took a seat opposite Sami, at ease. Eil had understood the simplicity of the exam three years ago. Absorbing earth stones resulted in increased his anima. From what Kilo had explained, most of that was being expended naturally because they did not yet have the knowledge to do otherwise. That anima was spent on physical enhancements, for example: strength and speed. It’s usage for this exam would come down to enhanced perception, and by proxy, reaction time. The exam sought to see if the individual would be able to track the strike coming from the proctor and react. The reaction, no matter how minute, was all one needed to show a talent for being an animist. Eil’s advantage was that his uncle had long ago taught him how to harvest earth stones, the means of increasing one’s anima. The rest was automatic.

For those who did not have the advantages that Eil and his family had, a natural and unconscious affinity for harvesting was their only saving grace. Truthfully, it did not indicate that one was gifted, as much as the sovereign state of Buffon had convinced the Leonaisians of such, it simply meant one had been born with the perfect affinity to get out of the awful predicament they’d been born in.

There were rare instances like Akilo, who as far as Eil could surmise, had qualified through sheer luck; having understood that, he knew his uncle would warn him that being born in the family Eil was born in was equally sheer luck. More commonly, those who qualified gradually increased their anima by slowly and unconsciously harvesting off parts of earth stones they mined over the years. Kilo had equated it to learning a language, one would learn better from being taught directly like Eil and Nala were, or one might catch a few words because of a knack for language and exposure, and others without exposure or the knack will know nothing but that does not preclude them from ever learning it in the direct means that Eil and Nala have.

By the time Leonaisians took the test, depending on how much affinity they had for harvesting, their instincts allowed them some measure of miniscule reaction: eyes widening, a slightly lean, even the lips parting. Anything that indicated one had enough perceptive ability to notice the proctor’s strike, and that minimal reaction was enough to pass the exam. Even so, over ninety percent failed it.

Sami frowned, she’d sensed his energy, and knew the test was a foregone conclusion.

“Are you ready?”

He nodded.

“Okay,” she said.

The speed at which Sami struck was beyond what Eil had expected, beyond what should have been. He did not even have a moment to catch his breath when her fist arrived in front of it. It was faster even than the proctor’s feint against Nala.

“You’ve failed,” she said instantly. A collective gasp in the crowd followed. Like Eil, they had expected the test to be a formality for him. They’d grown used to Kilo’s care passing it. None had any clue why he did not. Her speed then, to the crowd, mirrored the speed she'd used previously, so fast was it. To Eil's briefly trained eye, he knew he'd been cheated.

“What?” Eil asked.

“Next.”

The prefect’s assistant frowned but drew her pencil across her notepad anyways. “Hal-”

“This isn’t fair,” he muttered.

“Fair?” Her eyes narrowed. “You want to speak of fair?” She seemed on the verge of a tirade.

“Proctor.”

Her eyes widened; her reaction even more muted than Eil’s had been to her strike. Damos Claeys’s tail hovered an inch from her throat. A moment ago, there was nothing, and the next, the prefect stood behind her. Had he not said anything, he wondered how long it would have taken the proctor to notice. Eil felt like he'd been made to carry a basket full of freshly-picked potatoes on his shoulders. The pressure didn’t give him a chance to decide whether he was more scared than shocked. He dared not move. He realized then that the prefect’s strike at the delivery had been pitiful to his capacity. Maybe Kilo was afraid of Damos Claeys.

“Prefect,” she replied. The same bead of sweat that ran down Eil’s forehead, ran down her own. On the other hand, she did not seem to suffer from the pressure the way Eil did.

“I’m of the understanding that you are to administer this exam on every individual in the exact same fashion, am I not?”

“Yes, prefect.”

“If we were to administer this exam as we all saw fit, then I might conclude that you yourself were not worthy of even qualifying, even now that you are three-star ranked.” She said nothing back. “I trust I will not need to adjudicate for this exam again for the duration of your time in my prefecture, am I correct?”

“Y-yes, prefect.”

“Good.”

Damos walked back to his caravan at a leisurely pace, the only thing left behind being the tiniest bead of blood at Sami’s neck. She took a deep breath, and Eil swallowed deeply.

“I will administer the exam once again. Are you ready?”

Eil frowned. He took a deep breath of his own. “Yes.”

“Okay.”

Eil and the proctor’s fist cracked against each other. He felt the fracture immediately, but did his utmost to resist the pain he felt running along his arm. He realized then that every time his uncle had struck him, it had been at the same speed as the exam. Eil couldn’t guess if that was deliberate, but he knew he’d watched every strike for the day he’d meet it back. In hindsight, perhaps it was for the best he’d never tried. If it was deliberate, Kilo would not have reacted kindly to that sort of disobedience. How much, like the prefect, was Kilo hiding? How much was the proctor herself hiding? Even in his resistance, Eil felt pitifully powerless.

She pulled her fist away, ignoring all the gaping mouths, and without a hint of pain on her face.

“Eil has shown the gift of an animist and will be registered to King Paulus's Military Institute. Stand up and stand behind that man,” the prefect’s assistant said.

“Thank you,” Eil said to Sami through gritted teeth, and stood up.

He could not open his hands quite fully without groaning so he kept it in a fist. A fist dripping with blood.

Halia was one of the last two to be able to pass the test, much as Eil suspected. She’d a knack for harvesting, and knowing how hard she worked, Eil didn’t think she would have a hard time catching up to him once they got to the institute. She had the best parts of Eil and Nala quirks’s without either of their inadequacies: laziness and naivete.

The fourth person to qualify was the one Eil most admired, and yet, had never interacted with to this day. Zara kept to herself in the village, but her father was renown as the village drunk. Truthfully, the men of Kasai all had issues with liquor management and the boys quickly took it up once they realized they would never leave their village and paltry life. Zara’s father was the worst but certainly not the sole person to be driven to anger and violence once the veil of alcohol could be used to justify cruelty. Zara’s mother had died a few years back, and the widely hushed secret was that it had not been a natural death. Zara and her father had been ostracized in the village since, and it had only worsened Zara’s situation. However, in none of this knowledge could you find the source of Eil’s admiration.

When Sami asked Zara if she was ready, she firmly said yes. When Sami struck, Zara swayed to the side and entirely avoided her strike. The entire village, but for Asa, failed to hide their shock at the clearcut evasion. It hadn’t been the first time someone had shown such prowess; Fee, Nala’s older sister, had done much the same the year before. That was to be expected of someone in Kilo’s care, but no one outside of them had ever managed to entirely avoid her strike. There were only three possible justifications for it. Firstly, her affinity was beyond anything Kilo had mentioned was possible. He found that unlikely considering he could feel no pressure from her. The second possibility was that she had been taught in the way Eil had. This, too, was unlikely. He had a hard time believing Kilo would teach outside the family, and he wasn’t prone to pity. If Zara’s father had any such knowledge, he’d never made an indication of it. In both cases, she would’ve had to have been taught to hide her spiritual energy too. Even so, he couldn’t rule it out.

The most likely possibility was that she had no talent at all, and that was the source of his admiration. She had done what Eil imagined he would’ve done in less advantageous circumstances, she cheated on the exam. Zara must’ve timed her movement after witnessing dozens go before her. That was easier said than done, and he wasn’t sure if he could have managed it if it was his sole possibility of escaping Kasai. The timing went beyond just seconds, allowed her only singular attempt at it, and a limited observation pool. Nevertheless, there was no argument to be had about her success. She had passed the exam better than anyone else in the village. Sami might have thought to complain, but she held back her personal feelings after the prefect’s interference earlier. Zara calmly followed the prefect’s assistant’s orders and fell in line.

“That was the last participant in this year’s exam. Congratulations to these future servants of Leonaise. They will carry on your bloodline and help protect both Leonaise and Buffon’s interest. Thank you.”

A clay bottle cracked against the ground. The village turned to spot Zara’s father, swaying back and forth, walking towards his daughter.

“No. You’re not taking Zara from me!”

Zara must’ve been the only person present, save for the prefect in his caravan, not staring at her father.

“Zara has be-” the prefect’s assistant began.

“Shut up! You don’t think I’ve heard about what happens in your little school. You kill our children in there, the same way you do in here. Zara, you don’t want to go, I promise you. I’ll take care of you here. I’ll make sure your safe.”

Aside from a tightened fist, Zara made no attempt to acknowledge her father. She’d sided firmly on the side of hoping someone would put a stop to this embarrassment.

The proctor stared without any interest in getting involved. The prefect’s assistant had a better solution, and it involved cleaver equipped assistants. It was Tacus, the village chief, who struck Zara’s father first, and the rest of the village hurriedly joined in. Eil would have admired Tacus but for the knowledge that this should have happened long ago, and that they may have only been doing it to spare Zara's father a deadlier fate. It was a widely known fact that the reason Zara’s father had only been alienated from the village and nothing more of consequence was because he was Tacus’s cousin.

“We expect proper conduct in this prefecture. It seems there is a distinct lack of discipline. We will be expecting double the supplies of earth stones on the next delivery. Perhaps that will instill greater humility within you. You’re all dismissed,” Asa said.

Only Tacus broke from the assault on Zara’s father to bow repeatedly. “We sincerely apologize. I will ensure this does not happen again.”

The prefect's aids gestured for Akilo to follow on the way to the cage. Akilo was hesitant but a shove helped him on his way through stifled tears. Eil avoided looking at his family. He realized that it could be the last time he saw many of them, or it could be the last time he saw any of them. Halia waved at her father, and tears were gingerly falling down her face, though she did her best to maintain whatever integrity she felt she might lose in a more emotional display. Zara kept her head low and her eyes to the ground. They were all hauled into the caravan, which, when the door closed, felt like a cage more than the luxurious transport to their new lives.