Book 2: Chapter 16 - Oh, That’s What That Means
He asked me to take children into the mist.
Brand new children, who’d never even been in
a fucking fist fight.Some of them had one, maybe two talents.
Less than two weeks of formal training.He had me protecting an entire class
of kids, a few of which had no idea what they were doing.He would kill you. He would kill me.
He would kill our children.
Just so long as his special spectrum class made him
look good to his superiors.
—Virgil Clay, Police Interview
“And finally, excellent work, Asher,” Clay said. The two fireteams took a knee in a semicircle around him, and he made eye contact with each as he evaluated their performance. Violet, who’d mostly directed her teammates to keep them in formation, was the last he addressed. “I’ll admit, you command more authority than I would have guessed. You performed well, even considering your 150 Perception. You kept track of everyone, not just on your team, but on Lockwood’s team. And you did this when they were behind cover and concealment. Considering it is your first day of practical training, I’m willing to reluctantly admit that the headmaster had a point. At least a little. You’re obviously ready for these classes, at least. Sending all of you into the mist is still fucking stupid, though.”
Violet tilted her head and offered an awkward smile. “Um, thanks, I think? Always happy to exceed your expectations of stupidity, Mr. Clay,” she responded.
“That would make me happy, too. I hope I can pull it off someday,” Guy lamented.
“I hope so, too, buddy. I believe in you,” Violet answered.
“I don’t,” Kiera added.
“I love that you guys have, like, team camaraderie and everything already! That is so cool,” Kassie commented.
“Yeah, we still haven’t mastered that. We try, but we have Zach. I don’t think it’s possible to get along with a guy named Zach,” Ajia chimed in, sardonic lamentations clear in her voice.
“Shut the fuck up, AJ,” Zach retorted. “You literally come to my DnD night every week.”
“Yeah, and you killed me. Or, uh, my Bard,” Ajia complained. “Typical Zach behavior.”
“You did do that,” Dustin agreed, if quietly. Zach was about to defend himself, but Guy spoke first.
“It’s alright, I’m sure we’ll all share the same trust soon,” Guy said. “All it took the rest of us was a little life-threatening peril, which is part of the curriculum now!”
“That, and not playing games where we kill each other,” Violet added.
Mr. Clay loudly cleared his throat, as everyone but Aubrey had stopped paying attention to him. The entire group paused, then looked back at the tall collection of muscle, gray hair, and sour expressions.
“Guy is correct, for possibly the first and last time in his life. And entirely by accident, I am certain,” Mr. Clay said. “If any of you don't get along now, you will after you put your lives in each other’s hands. Or you will fail, die, and it won’t matter.”
“You added something unnecessary to that,” Guy complained.
“In any case. Your teams seem to be working well together. Team Asher is a bit sloppy, but I’m satisfied with your progress for the day. It’s time for everyone to properly demonstrate all of their talents. You’ll need to know what everyone is capable of in order to work together. And, of course, it will prepare you for the war games,” Mr. Clay said. He didn’t seem to notice Guy’s complaint.
“War games?” Aubrey asked, suddenly far more interested. There was a note of fear in her voice, like she was looking over the side of a cliff and had just been asked to jump.
“They’re not as interesting as they sound,” Zach replied. “Just mock battles. Capture the flag. King of the hill. One-on-one spars. That sort of thing. But with talents. Just as practice.”
“Why? We aren’t training to fight people,” Aubrey asked, her concern clearly growing. “I can’t use my talents on a person!”
“It’s alright,” Mr. Clay assured. “I won’t ask you to use your scream on any of the other students. Not directly. Not… yet. But war games are important.”
“Why? We are only supposed to fight hedron, right?” Aubrey asked again.
Violet reached over and placed one hand on hers. “It’s alright. I’ve got your back now, I promise. I’m taking responsibility for the team. Trust me, and nothing like that will ever happen again,” she promised.
Mr. Clay watched the exchange, and his eyes softened. “Right. Your team was recruited partway through the semester. With Bouvier’s accelerated schedule, I nearly forgot. You missed important introductory classes. Alright. We need to review some material before we move on to talents, it looks like,” he said. Clay’s change in subject and Violet’s efforts had their intended effect, and Aubrey allowed a little tension to leave her shoulders. Mr. Clay scanned the students and locked his eyes on Dustin.
“Mr. Thallo, can you please enlighten our new students on the different classifications of calling?” Clay said. The meek boy startled, but nodded.
“Uh—sorry. There are, uh, four basic classes. Standard, Aberrant, Anomalous, and Nightshade,” Dustin answered.
“Nightshade?” Kiera asked. “I’ve only heard of the first three. What’s that one?”
“That is because the Nightshade classification is only used by lancers and government officials. It is extremely rare for it to appear organically in humans. Enough that every known and natural Nightshade calling has only been recorded once each. When callings are registered with local authorities, a Nightshade calling will often be recorded as Anomalous. It is immediately apparent when someone has a Nightshade calling, and alarm bells will go off the moment it is recorded. But, as mentioned, this is not a classification used by the general public. So a clerk will express concern when they see one, but they often won’t know what they are looking at, exactly. We’ll get to why in a moment.
“First, we should cover the other classifications. Standard is obvious. These are common, or at least regularly recorded, callings. If at least two hundred other instances of your calling have been recorded, you have a Standard calling. And Aberrant calling is on the flipside. If there have been fewer than two hundred recorded appearances of your calling, you are Aberrant. Most callings with healing talents fall in this category. There are many others, however. Anything rare enough will be put in this classification. The spectrum class is made up almost entirely of these callings. It’s one reason many of you are in this class at all. In fact, many Aberrant callings get drafted to the lancers by default. Sorry, Kassie,” Mr. Clay explained.
“No worries, sir! I seriously love my calling!” Kassie responded.
“I’m certain you do. I am sorry nonetheless,” he replied. “But that brings us to Anomalous callings. Again, this is self-explanatory. If you have the first recorded instance of your calling, you are either in the Anomalous class or the Nightshade class. You might say Nightshade is a subcategory of Anomalous, which is a subcategory of Aberrant. Nightshade could conceivably skip Anomalous, but it is effectively part of the same class. With the exception, of course, of more ordinary callings that become Nightshade class. But that is a secondary effect of crystallization. It is entirely different from an organic Nightshade calling.”
Mr. Clay paused so his students could process what he was saying. As a result, the ever-impatient Guy spoke before the lecture could be finished. “I feel like we’re missing some details. It’s obvious when someone has a Nightshade calling? Why not just tell the clerks to use all four? You’re telling a bunch of teenagers. It’s obviously not a huge secret or anything, right? Why let the confusion exist?” Guy asked.
Mr. Clay sighed. “The company line? They don’t want people panicking and doing something… foolish. When regular people learn that some kid has a Nightshade calling, they might act before they think. That has led to tragedy, in the past. Lancers, on the other hand, all need to know about them. Just in case.”
“How so? What's the big fuckin’ deal with this secret but not that secret class of calling, and how does it result in capture the flag?” Kiera asked.
“Because Nightshade callings are only rare in humans. But they are not rare. In fact, that is the classification of every single hedron calling. Hedron, like humans, all get a calling. In fact, they are more consistent with theirs. And all of them can advance through degrees and categories like the rest of us. That’s one reason lancers are necessary. Without us, hedron tend to make it to category violet eventually. Then, they make nests, and the mist grows too thick for most of us to breathe, and too harsh for gas masks. Hedron and bodies around them begin to grow and crystallize faster as a result. Before long, the area is a death trap for all but the strongest lancers. That’s why we don’t travel by sea anymore.
“But I’m getting distracted. The fact is, Nightshade callings are dangerous. Only Nightshade callings have these effects, and we learn to deal with them. But aside from that, they work exactly like every other calling. This means two things for lancer trainees. One: the safest way to practice fighting them is to practice fighting each other. Two: you may have to fight a human with a calling in this classification someday. The last time lancers were unprepared for this… Well. Our trains travel through a few ghost towns now. In other words, you all need to be practiced in fighting intelligent and sapient enemies.”
“So. Capture the Flag,” Kiera replied.
“And King of the Hill!” Guy added.
“I don’t like it,” Aubrey said.
“I don’t think I could hurt someone just because of their calling,” Violet murmured.
“Like it or not, these games and competitions help you grow. Maybe they grant you clarity. Maybe not. But you’ll grow more skilled with your talents—and better at responding to the talents of others. And if you need it, you will have experience fighting a human. Which leads us back to my original point. I’d like everyone to display their talents for the group,” Mr. Clay said. “Ms. Asher. Why don’t you go first, since it will be the fastest?”
Violet nodded and climbed to her feet. She brushed the pants of her PT uniform off and held out one hand. “As you all know, I am a Storm Scout! That’s an Anomalous calling, technically. But it’s just a variation of ‘Scout.’ There are a bunch of those, so I’m closer to Standard. My first talent is a bit of a wash. It was a one-time use protection against death. I used it the moment I got it, because I have incredible luck. I got to see a moose, though, so ups and downs. My other talent is pretty common, and everyone saw that before… well. Everyone knows, but here it is! Tools of the Trade!”
Violet formed a machete in her hand, displaying the red crystal for the group. Mr. Clay tilted his head as it formed.
“Is that your default weapon? The one that forms if you don’t mentally specify what you want?” he asked.
“Oh, uh. Why do you ask?” she responded.
“You want training to use your default. It forms the fastest when needed. It looked more like a polearm, or spear the other day. When Jade tried to form it. In the mist, saved time and clarity is a matter of life and death. I’ll assign you a weekend slot for weapons training with a personal instructor,” he explained. Violet lifted an eyebrow. She’d suspected he’d been aware of the class’ activity that first day. She didn’t like exactly how much he knew, however.
“My default is a glaive, actually,” she answered. “I think because the first thing I fought was basically a giant horse. Or maybe it’s just because I could use the extra reach. I’m not really sure why.” It was the best she could do. He was right. She needed to learn to use the weapon. But there was no way she could explain a scythe as a scout tool. A glaive… it was pushing it. But it would work, and she could learn the basics, at least.
Mr. Clay frowned. “That’s an odd one for a scout. Perhaps you have a lightning-related talent in your future. Sometimes, long weapons are associated with that, like a lightning rod. And you are a Storm Scout. Well. No matter. I’ll find an expert in that sort of weapon. Alright. Clarke, you’re up.” Aubrey gave Violet a curious look at this, and Kassie tilted her head, but no one else seemed all that interested.
Aubrey stood the same way Violet had, gave her friends an apologetic look, and backed away from the group by a few feet. “Can you promise there is no one in that direction?” she asked. Clay nodded.
“It’s clear, Ms. Clarke,” he promised. Aubrey sighed.
“Alright. I’m red, so I still only have two. My first is pretty basic. A weak danger sense. It doesn’t work all the time. But if a hedron is planning to hurt me—or someone near me—in the near future, I can sort of feel it. I can’t really show that one off yet. And I can’t tell where the danger is coming from. Last time I used it, it was basically useless. There was a giant hedron actively attacking us. But it can come in handy for keeping watch, if we need to make camp, or something. My second talent is. Well. I’ll just show you,” she said. She took a few more steps away, and she screamed.
It was incredibly shrill, and Aubrey was obviously uncomfortable using it. But it helped break the ice, and everyone took turns displaying their talents. Guy couldn’t show off his Taunt talent, but he grew crystal chitin from his skin, creating a kind of makeshift armor. Kiera showed off an illusion, but it only worked on a few people. Most people had a higher perception than Kiera had resistance. Dustin’s talents could be felt more than seen. He would sing, and Violet felt more confident. He would speak, and Violet’s attributes sharpened. He held a finger to his lips, and they felt numb. Interestingly, these effects seemed to vary based on everyone’s resistance. As if all were a hostile effect.
Ajia had shown off her shapeshifting every day. She was Ajia one day. He was AJ the next. And so on and so forth. She settled on Ajia, and showed off her other two talents. One was self-healing, of a sort. She couldn’t fix damage like Kassie could, but she could hold herself together and staunch bleeding. A talent she casually displayed with one of Violet’s knives. She also made herself look exactly like Kassie, which seemed like the same talent to Violet. But there was no way to know the exact limitations. Zach showed three different ice-related talents that seemed to surprise him. These apparently changed from day to day, which made training difficult for him. It also made Violet wary of him, lest he get a talent like Daniel’s one day.
Finally, Kassie healed Ajia completely to show off one skill. She also displayed animalistic fangs and claws, which seemed to endear her to Kiera a bit. And last but far from least, she showed off her orange talent. She created mist—orange instead of mauve. Violet didn’t understand the point until she touched it, and adrenaline ran through her veins.
She found herself entirely alone on the training field, unable to find or hear anyone around her. She withdrew her hand—and realized everyone was exactly where she’d left them. She’d been able to see them the entire time, but her mind was fuzzy, and her eyes slid right past them.
It was easily the talent she hated most.
But with that, everyone knew what both teams were capable of.
“Alright. I’ll call it here today. You all did good work. Be prepared for more intense training on Monday. I suggest you take full advantage of your weekend,” Mr. Clay finally said.
“Awesome! Thanks, Mr. C!” Kassie replied immediately. “Violet, you said you couldn’t do it tonight. Maybe tomorrow? It is the weekend, right? We’d love to hear that singing voice! You’re gonna be good at it, I can tell.”
Violet smiled in response. “Sure! I won’t promise, but if I can get my errands done tonight, I’ll happily go out with everyone!” she agreed. She meant it, too. She was growing to like the larger group already. Even if she’d made mental notes to be wary of a couple of them.
“Wait,” Aubrey said, stopping Mr. Clay before he could leave the field. The teacher paused and turned toward her.
“Yes, Ms. Clarke?” he replied.
“I was just…um,” she paused, and looked at her feet. “I have an Anomalous calling, like you mentioned. And after everything that happened… well. You said it was clear when someone had a Nightshade calling? How?”
Mr. Clay let out a sympathetic sigh. “Aubrey. You aren’t a Nightshade. I promise,” he responded.
“How do you know?” she insisted. He walked toward her and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Because. I’ve seen your attributes. Nightshade callings are the tools of hedron, remember? They may vary widely, but they all have the same distinct difference in common. One extra attribute. The attribute that defines how they behave, and how they interact. If you had a Nightshade calling, you would also have the Bloodlust attribute.”