“I don’t have time for a biography, Miss Davies,” the nurse cuts in, letting out a sharp breath. “Please just answer the question. And your mother? Deceased?”
“She’s dead,” I reply, biting back the urge to punch her in the nose.
“Cause of death?” the nurse asks, her tone flat, almost bored.
“She died in a raid on Port Ember five years ago.”
The nurse makes a small sound, scribbling something on her clipboard. “Hmmm. Yes. Even the safe, close-to-home assignments can be deadly, I hear.”
My thoughts return to that period when the nurse departs the temporary exam area.
I was lucky that Sadie’s family took me in. Sadie’s mother was wounded in battle, and the doctors had to amputate her leg. Since she wasn’t able to fight, she stayed home to take care of Sadie and Peter.The orphans of Wrath, or those unlucky kids who have both parents away at war, end up in student housing accommodations across the various cities. It’s a ruthless place where tempers flare even hotter, fists fly, and the strong prey on the weak. I would have been a goner long ago if not for Sadie and her family.
That might account for my current feelings. I’m already living on borrowed time. For four years, I’ve been bracing for the worst: that my sin might never manifest before I turn twenty. I’m over the waiting; I’m ready to see what happens next.
The stern nurse re-enters the exam room, snapping me out of my morbid thoughts. I notice the person next to me has stopped crying. That’s a relief—I didn’t want the sound of sobs to be the last thing I heard.
“It’s your turn. Let’s get you tested,” she says with a smug smile, holding the blue paper curtain open. This woman is certainly on a power trip today. I walk behind her as she leads me to one of the locker rooms off the edge of the arena. I keep my head down. I can’t chance seeing Sadie. I can’t see her face again; it might finally break me.
I walk through the doors of the locker room. Today, tables, chairs, and large scientific-looking machines fill the room. There are three other Wrath in the room, seated and waiting to be tested.
I recognize Brixton James from my class, looking a little bored. He wouldn’t recognize me, but there’s no mistaking those boyish floppy brown curls and massive broad chest. He’s clearly been working outside this summer, and his olive-toned skin is a luscious dark tan. I smile a little to myself. There are worse views to die with.
He doesn’t look up as I enter and sit at my desk, caddy-corner to his. I’m not surprised he looks bored. Brixton’s sin developed early, and heis always at the top of our class. He doesn’t have a remarkable or rare sin power, but he’s still academy material. Just as I get comfortable in my chair, a loud beep sounds in front of him.
“Hold on… his reading came back at 80%!” the proctor next to Brixton exclaims.
Suddenly, there is a shuffle as all the proctors in the room move in front of the enormous machine connected to Brixton’s arm. The two others waiting for their test results turn to look as well.
“Are you sure? Is the machine working properly?” another proctor asks as he fumbles with the cords connected to the wall.
“It has had no issues, but let’s try another to be certain,” his colleague replies.
80% power level is unheard of. Wrath’s faction leader, Councilor Igor Drow, sits at 65%, the highest in Wrath... well, until now, I guess.
We’re taught in school that we were all once as powerful as our fearless leader, Igor. But as time went on, our power started dwindling. Not only the Wrath faction but all factions across Vail. There is no concrete evidence why, but propaganda and rumor state it lies at the fault of the outcast rebels who practice forbidden magic. They have dirtied our power supply, making it weaker.
“What is your sin power, boy?” the lead proctor asks, adjusting his glasses.
“Erm… enhanced senses. I can see further, and in more detail; my reflexes are quicker, and I can hear better than most,” Brixton mumbles. He doesn’t look shocked but dazed, like he’s not sure why his day is not going according to plan. One proctor looks surprised; another skeptical.
Those are simple, common sin powers. Our sin power usually determines our power level. People who have stronger and rarer sin powers, like enhanced elemental magic, psychokinesis, or shielding, always achieve higher power ratings, but people with common sin gifts like enhanced senses have weaker power levels. I knew Brixton was strong and smart; even with his common sin, he could rival those in school with a top-tier sin, but 80% power is an anomaly. Most of us come in between 15-50%, with the academy bringing on 40% and higher from Wrath. Power levels rivaling our leader is big news, especially with power dwindling every generation.
The machine beeps, inducing raised eyebrows from the proctors. 80% again.
“It looks like we’ll be seeing you at the academy,” says a voice from behind. I turn to see Dean Bellows, leader of SinVail Academy, walking through the doors of the room. I can’t believe I didn’t notice she was here. Where did she come from? I mean, it makes sense she is here, but I’ve only ever seen her in news reports that we would watch at school. While she was intimidating on screen, she is much more domineering in person. Tall, with a rigid posture, her brown and greying hair swept up into a tight updo, and her grey skirt suit ensemble only enhance her powerful presence. She commands the room as she walks forward.
“That’s enough, gentlemen. Complete your paperwork and send Mr. James on his way,” she says in a casual, but direct command, as if a huge bomb wasn’t just dropped in front of us all a few seconds ago. The men scurry away, eager to follow the Dean’s orders.
Well, that was really something. I can’t wait to tell Sadie…and that thought brings me back tomy reality.
I probably won’t see Sadie again. The proctor moves in front of me, grabbing my attention.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” I nod in reply. He hooks the band around my arm and sticks the needle in. I stare at the wall while the machine hums away. I guess this is it. Thanks for the last minute entertainment and eye candy, universe.
“What is your sin power, miss?” the proctor asks nonchalantly. He’s looking over at the Dean and the lead Proctor, like he wishes he could be a fly on the wall for their discussion.
“I don’t have one.” I mumble in response.
