The Institution

Eil was displeased to learn that the institution was a hut.

His mouth stood agape. Sami had not elected to inform them of that detail. He was only certain they were at the right spot because they were among a sea of hundreds of other broken and battered students. He was grateful that some caretakers came to check on them the moment they seemed to have passed some invisible mark that indicated they’d officially made it. Somehow, he did not doubt that if they’d been murdered just an inch from that designated line, the caretakers wouldn’t have budged an inch to help them. If not for these caretakers, Eil might have suspected that every single person here had been misguided to this destination.

The caretakers stopped short of helping them, even as Eil readied himself to collapse. “Where’s the animist accompanying you?” one asked.

Silent lived up to her title, and Eil found himself wondering what to say. He thought about lying, they might disqualify them if they learned she’d either died or aided them. There was little chance he could conjure a lie about her survival, they would realize sooner or later.

“Dead. A prefect killed her.”

The caretaker raised an eyebrow.

“We can’t take you in without validation. I’m sorry.”

“Validation?” Eil questioned, teeth grit, disbelief settling in.

“Will this do?” Silent pulled out a paper she’d rolled and tucked in her pants.

The caretaker grabbed the paper, and his eyes combed through it. “You three are the only ones left under your animist’s care?” They nodded. “And what are your names?”

“Eil but they call me Magic Boy.”

“Zara Matunde, or Silent,” Silent said.

Bite-Sized started but stopped, and seemed on the verge of crying upon remembering that she may not say her name ever again. The caretaker understood quickly enough, spotting the mark around her neck, and the missing tongue. “Could you read your own name?” She shook her head. The caretaker scratched his. “Neither of you knows it.”

“No. We just called her Bite-Sized. Easier than remembering names of people you might not see again. Wait. I remember the village she came from. Can’t you go by that?”

“I’m sorry. Whatever village you came from, they don’t care enough to write it down. It really doesn’t matter once you make it to the institution, you probably won’t ever go back.”

He called over another caretaker and explained the situation. “We’re not exactly going to read every name on here till she hears hers.”

“How many names did you have kid? One or two?”

She began bawling then, but it was a silent raw bawl, more pitiful than sad.

“Look, other kids need my help, can you handle this?” the new caretaker asked. She left after getting a shrug.

“Just raise one or two hands.”

Eil’s discomfort prevented him from paying attention to the situation. He dropped to his ass and fell on his back.

It took a moment, but the caretaker continued, “Two names. Good. Let me tell you something, uh, Bite-Sized: you made it. I’m not saying it's over or that you’re safe now, but you made it further than most people in all of Leonaise ever will. You’ve lost a lot, but you’re going to get a chance to do incredible things. You’re going to get a chance to be so powerful no one’s ever going to hurt you like that again. But you have to stop crying, you have to suck in all the pain, and you have to make sure to hold yourself up. No matter how bad it gets, keep holding yourself up. You don’t stop until you’re dead, alright? Now, I’m going to grab a name from this list, and you’re going to have to accept it for now. But, between you and me, it doesn’t matter. You’ll get a brand-new name in there anyways. Or just keep calling yourself Bite-Sized. It suits you. Anyways." He scrolled through the list of names belonging to dead allies. "How does Less Geli sound?”

Bite-Sized stopped bawling.

“Does it work for you? We can choose a different one.”

She shook her head vigorously.

“That’s not your real name, is it?”

She nodded. She seemed on the verge of renewed tears.

“Huh. Is that so? Well, alright. Now that we’ve got that settled, let’s make sure you guys don’t die between here and the institution.”

“You mean that hut isn’t it?” Eil asked.

“That’s where the gatekeeper lives.”

“So, where’s the institution?”

“You’ll see.”

Eil gritted his teeth at the non-answer. The caretaker did not let himself be distracted in conversation. He got Bite-Sized to lay back on a pillow and after several hand gestures, he placed his hands on her throat. The scar Bite-Sized had received from the wire began receding in a way that would have ordinarily taken a long time, if ever. Eil was fortunate enough that he could not speak on that matter from experience.

“I have a question for you. Do we have to worry about fighting for our lives as soon as we get through the gatekeeper’s special gate? You’re all taking care of us now, and that worries me. Sort of sounds like you need us healthy for something worse.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to worry about your life every single day until you die or step out of that institution. But, if you make it through, you’re going to be the one people fear.”

“Being feared doesn’t seem worth risking my life.”

“You know the alternative isn’t much better.”

He’d just witnessed an animist killed for having a heart, he was no longer sure whether the alternative was worse. The caretaker finished working on Bite-Sized and moved to Silent.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. And I’m not letting you go through without making sure you’re as good as I can make you.” Silent glared. She didn’t do much of that. “I’ll be gentle.”

Somehow, the caretaker knew that Silent had been hurt both at the hip, and at the back. It must have been when their caravan was blown into the water. She hadn’t shown a hint of discomfort since they’d seen each other afterwards. Silent had a lot more scars that the caretaker did not bother with. These were scars that had a long time to settle. When the caretaker finished with Silent, he turned to Eil.

“Looks like you had yourself a hard time out there.” His eyes narrowed. Eil could guess his trail of thoughts. If this caretaker wasn’t from a noble tribe himself, he may very well resent Eil’s privilege, if he was from a noble tribe, it likely wasn’t Eil’s, and that was but another reason to reenforce his resentment.

“I did. I was hoping for a break.”

“I’m sorry, kid. We don’t get breaks in this life.”

He said nothing more and executed a series of hand gestures. He passed his hands over various parts of Eil’s body. The feeling was soothing, not far from what Silent’s soup made him feel like, minus the out of body headspace it brought on. His was even faster than Bite-Sized's, and considering how awful Eil had felt, he couldn’t imagine her pain.

“Alright, that should be it. The gatekeeper’s going to be out once the deadline hits, shouldn’t be too long now. I’d be surprised if there were any more stragglers.”

The caretaker was surprised.

There were two more sets of arrivals before the deadline struck. The first was a singular girl. She came in on the very same sort of caravan Sami had first picked them up in. There was no one inside the caravan, and no animist to be found. The second caravan behind still looked full of food. Everyone stared at her with confusion. Bite-Sized, Eil, and Silent were closest to the edge of the field and had the fortune of hearing a caretaker approach her.

“Where’s your animist?”

She did not reply, she only looked derisively at the caretaker and handed over the same papers Silent had handed over to theirs.

“What’s your name?”

“Saro Kimbo.”

The caretaker froze while sifting through the papers. “Where’s your animist?”

“What do you think?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Hurt? Shut up.” She stepped past the caretaker and bellowed out to the rest of the crowd. The animist who had guided their charge here, and the caretakers all watched. “All of you listen to me. I am the daughter of the Faceless King, ruler of Leonaise, and I will be the one to take that throne from him when my time has come. I am giving you one chance to stand by my side. One chance to be immune from my wrath. Those of you who choose not to, every single one of you, you are my enemy.”

Eil was both immediately mesmerized by and resentful of Saro Kimbo. Of course, he also had to admit that he had never heard of the Faceless King, and he doubted anyone else here knew of their monarch. They knew of their prefects, that’s all they need know of. But, he supposed, it was a given that with noble tribes, one must stand above all.

The first person to step forward was Silent. Eil’s mouth hung open. Silent walked the short distance up to Saro and stared her in the eyes. Saro stared back.

“What’s your name?” she finally asked.

Silent glanced at Eil. He’d rarely felt acknowledged by her until that very moment. “Silent.”

Saro frowned, and she too glanced at Eil. He felt like shrinking down. Not since the prefect had he felt cowed in such a fashion.

“Silent. As long as you stand by my side, I will take care of you, and you will take care of me. We are family. More than the Faceless King, you are my blood. You eat from my plate.” She gestured towards her caravan.

That stirred many. Silent did not hesitate and walked over to the caravan. It wasn’t the same food they had received on the first day, Eil realized. These were as fresh as could be. If Eil hadn’t seen her eyes, he would’ve suspected that she had never gone through the exam, never had an animist, never even struggled to get to this point. But those eyes, they struck a fear in him he could not describe.

“And the rest of you, are you ready to declare yourself my enemy?”

“Oh, come on, princess. You think we believe you went through what the rest of us went through? You think we believe this Faceless King none of us have ever heard of, would allow you to live among us slaves. To suffer as we have.” A sharp-tongued boy said. He stood up to be sure Saro knew who was speaking to her.

“She’s not lying.” Another boy spoke, this one finely featured, nearly naked, and ravaged with more scars than Eil had ever seen on anyone. He raised something in his hand. “Another one of the Faceless King’s spawn tried his luck with us. I told this one I was jealous; I wanted a crown too. So, I took it. Now I am a prince.” Eil realized the boy was holding a scalp. “I believe he was boasting about being the Faceless King’s spawn, and who else would know of the crown that sits atop our country, but his progeny. She does not speak falsely of her origins, but of her plans to take the king’s throne, I have my doubts. I have taken quite a liking to my crown, and I am eager for more, as all those who come to taste power inevitably feel. I look forward to having yours.”

Saro looked quite bored with the boy’s threats. The sharp-tongued one who questioned her began walking towards Saro. He stopped in front of her. Saro frowned.

“You wish to join me now?”

“Has the offer been rescinded?”

She thought about it for a moment. “No.”

“Then if you speak true, and if that boy’s words aren’t that of a buffoon, then I would be foolish not to throw in my lot with you, wouldn’t I?”

“I will not tolerate betrayal.”

He feigned being offended, “Family does not betray.”

“What’s your name?”

He chuckled, gazing at Silent. “Call me Noisy.” He waved her off before she began talking. “Don’t worry, I heard what you told her.”

Noisy walked past her towards the caravan. If Saro was bothered by Noisy, she did not show it.

“Is there anyone else?”

A boy who must have measured the height of the giant bandit Eil had hope to forget about stepped forward next. He was more chubby than muscular, and his features were so foreign, Eil had doubts the boy was even Leonaisian.

“What’s your name?”

“Kagome Ketio Keita.”

She nodded. “Kagome Ketio Keita. As long as you stand by my side, I will take care of you, and you will take care of me. We are family. More than the Faceless King, you are my blood. You eat from my plate.”

“That’s why I’m here,” he said. He grinned and eagerly hauled his heft to the caravan. The boy might have genuinely joined her cause simply to for the food.

Only one more person decided they’d join Saro. The rest must not have bought her threat. Most had struggled to get here. They had seen people die. They’d nearly died. They were tired of being cowed by this point. They had made it to the institution. Of course, Eil had a simple reason, he came from a prestigious family of his own, and as it were, they were the only ones who owned his loyalty.

The last person to join Saro Kimbo’s side was Bite-Sized. He wanted to ask her what she was doing, but he didn’t. Of course, she’d join her. What had Eil done for her? She might never speak another word; she’d lost her hands following his guidance. Why side by Eil at the institution? And furthermore, why return to the side of someone too cowardly to ask you to do otherwise. He could lie and pretend it was simply because this was in her interest, or he could admit that part of his unwillingness to object was out of fear for Saro Kimbo.

“What’s your name?” Saro asked, unbothered by the pitiful state of her new recruit.

“She can’t speak. Her name’s Less Geli,” Eil spoke up.

Neither of them looked his way, but Bite-Sized nodded.

“Less Geli. As long as you stand by my side, I will take care of you, and you will take care of me. We are family. More than the Faceless King, you are my blood. You eat from my plate.”

Bite-Sized nodded but did not eat the way the rest of them did.

For a long minute, not a single other person decided to join Saro Kimbo’s side, and her momentum vanished.

“You will all remember that I gave you a chance. You are all my enemy. You are my family’s enemies. If you hurt me or my family, I will take your life without hesitation. You will not see mercy from me. If you wish to live through your time at the institution, you will do well steer clear of me and mine.”

Eil had been eager to see if anyone would test Saro’s will, if anyone might make an attempt at her food. He knew many must have starved to get here. His own stomach roared at the thought of getting his hands on the mango Kagome ate in a single bite, only stopping to spit out the seed. Everyone must have been tired of shedding blood, because no one chose to step forward. Once, they would’ve seen the girl as easy prey, but in their journey here, they had all discovered how powerless they truly were.

Saro Kimbo was not the last arrival, but the last arrival also came in with a full caravan; however, this one contained all the children instead of food. They could be heard long before they could be seen, singing together at the top of their lungs, without a care in the world. Even the animist guiding the horses seemed to be the most joyful animist Eil had ever seen, next to the dozen unapproachable animist standing by the hut.

A few caretakers approached the caravan.

“Don’t worry. They’re all fine. Well, perhaps you should check on that one.”

One boy stepped forward. Eil once against derided himself for how much his body had pained him, because he could not understand the pain that must result of such injuries that he now saw. The boy’s entire body was freshly bruised and scarred. It wasn’t like the scalp-waving boy from before, this one must have gone through hell to get here, and yet, he was the only among his caravan with so much as a scratch among them. It did not take long for Eil to notice the next most distinctive trait about this one, he resembled Saro in far too many ways for it to be a coincidence.

“They’re all alive?”

“Every single one.”

“No trouble?”

“Oh. Lots of trouble. Can’t you see we nearly didn’t make it? But that one is something else. One of the king’s spawn.”

“Another,” the caretaker said, spite in his voice.

“Can’t be too surprised. How many more?”

“Just that brat over there. Probably a few more not so keen on drawing attention to themselves.”

The animist didn’t seem very impressed with Saro or her rag tag affiliates.

“This one is different. He’s like Dragongrasped. Another freak.”

The new group happily found themselves a spot to sit and converse. Everyone starred, stunned and jealous. They’d all clawed their way here, meanwhile these new candidates looked like they’d been hauled here on the Faceless King’s own palanquin. The king’s spawn was at the heart of their assembly, an unwavering smile on his face from the moment he’d stepped out of the carriage. Saro Kimbo did not stop staring at her brother until the gatekeeper stepped out of his hut.