I didn’t know how my mother could think about talking with the voice in my head right now, while I was scared for my life, but I trusted her. She wouldn’t do this for no reason. I think...

“Hello, Voice.”

‘Hello!’

“It says ‘Hello.’”

“Do you have a name?”

“‘My name is Miles! What’s going on here?’” I repeated what the voice said.

“It has a name,” my mother said, amazed. “Do you know what you are?”

“‘I’m—,’” the voice stopped for a moment before continuing. “‘What do you mean what I am?’”

“You’re a Calling. The Mad Calling.”

“‘I don’t know what that means,’” the voice said through me.

“A Calling is a gift, granted by the gods to people after they come of age. At least that’s how it’s supposed to work. You’re my son’s Calling.”

“‘A gift? I’m a human being! Why would I be inside some kid!?’”

My mother and I stared at each other wide-eyed. This voice was either delusional or it wasn’t just some voice. I didn’t know what to think, but I started to believe that it would be okay to at least talk to it. My mother looked at me encouragingly.

“Voice,” I said. “Earlier I attended my Calling ritual. It’s supposed to reveal your purpose in the world to you and grant you the necessary tools to fulfill that purpose. But I received the Mad Calling, a voice in my head. You.

“All the stories I read say that this was supposed to drive me insane, that I would lash out at others, that I would be dangerous. And that Mad Ones would be killed on the spot, because there’s no coming back from it.”

The voice was silent for a moment, possibly thinking about what I had just said. If it was truly a human being, how could it end up in someone’s head? And why was I still fine?

“‘Can you remove this Calling? Can I get out of here?’” the voice finally asked.

My mother and I clearly weren’t sure how to respond. You don’t remove Callings, they are a part of you. The idea seemed absurd, but the question would make sense from the viewpoint of a sentient being stuck inside someone else.

“No, Voice. Or rather, it’s Miles, right?” my mother said. “A Calling is a part of you. It’s not something that can be removed, it’s like your ability to think or laugh. It’s just there.”

“‘You can’t be serious. What am I supposed to do? Ride shotgun in this boy for the rest of my life? ... for the rest of his life!? Wait. You said this isn’t normal! A Calling isn’t supposed to be a human. Maybe you can get me out of here! You said this Calling is a problem, just get me out and you’re good!’”

Miles wasn’t wrong. If there was a way to remove a Calling, wouldn’t that solve everything? The ritual isn’t supposed to fail, granted, but if I could remove my Calling and then just get a new one at the temple, a normal one, I would be in the clear.

“But I don’t know where I would even start,” I said. “There is no Calling removal ritual. I’ve never read anything about removing Callings. Like Mother said, it’s not something that you can just remove. We would have to go back to the temple and talk to the priests... but that’s way too risky.”

‘Because you think they will just kill you? Come on, you’re obviously fine! Why would they hurt you? Just explain the situation!’

“And what if that doesn’t work out? Then I’m dead!”

‘And if you don’t do anything I’ll be stuck in here!! This can’t be my life!’

“I’m not thrilled about it either, but what am I supposed to do!?”

“Tomar,” my mother interjected. “What is he saying?”

“He wants me to kill myself!”

‘I just want to get out of here! If talking to the priest is the only way, that’s what we’ll do!’

“I won’t just walk into the temple and tell them I have the Mad Calling!!”

“Boys, please calm down,” my mother said. “Miles, there might be answers in the temple, but it’s risky. We don’t know what they’ll do when they hear about this. As fascinating as I find you and this situation, the Mad Calling is typically a death sentence. I can guarantee that, at the very least, Tomar would get locked up. They would ensure he can’t hurt anyone once he goes insane. But in the worst case, they’ll strike him down immediately. That wouldn’t be in your best interest either.”

“‘I might die as well...’”

“That’s right,” my mother said.

“‘Fuck me... what then? What’s the plan?’”

“I’m sorry, but getting you out will have to wait. We have a more immediate problem. The priest will notify the authorities about the failed ritual. He believes Tomar wasn’t actually of age yet, but that explanation won’t hold up. We’ll need a better one before they come knocking. Unfortunately, talking to you didn’t bring us any new insights.”

She had wanted to talk to him to get more information, while I was still frozen. Confused and scared. I’m so glad she’s the one still with me. Sorry, dad.

My mother motioned me into the kitchen and we sat down at the dinner table. I didn’t know how much time we had, but we would have to do something soon. To the best of my knowledge, there had never been anyone without a Calling. Every single citizen is registered at birth, and every one is called to the temple for the ritual, in the summer after coming of age. You can’t not have a Calling... right?

Nobody would skip their ritual, that would make absolutely no sense. You need it to get a job, which every citizen of age is required to have, as declared by the authorities. But I actually didn’t know what would happen if you tried to avoid receiving your Calling.

Regardless, I had gone to the temple and attended the ritual. There was no changing that. But how would I explain myself to the registration office?

‘Hey.’

I was startled by the sudden pain and voice in my head interrupting my thoughts. This will take some getting used to.

‘Can’t you just skip town?’

“I’m trying to not die here, Miles!” I said with a mix of confusion and anger in my voice.

I noticed my mother’s gaze at my sudden outburst.

“He’s saying I should leave town.”

At this, my mother’s curiosity appeared to flare up once again. But why? Oh. He doesn’t know.

“You don’t know about the beasts, do you?” I asked.

***

Miles appeared to know nothing about the world. He asked question after question, but was reluctant to answer any himself. He didn’t know about the beasts that roamed the Wildlands, that nobody would be crazy enough to leave town without guards. He didn’t know that the next town was three days away, and that you would inevitably face something that would kill you in the blink of an eye. Especially at night.

He didn’t seem to know where we were, or when we were. Even the fact that noon was at eight o’clock appeared to confuse him. He seemed like a small child, knowing nothing and being eager for information. As we explained to him the most common knowledge, he and my mother seemed to be going along well, while I was mostly sitting there, parroting everything he was saying in my head.

“‘So he can’t go to the temple, because they would kill him. He can’t leave town, because monsters would kill him. And he can’t stay here, because they will come for him, and then kill him.

“‘But why is this Calling such a problem? I understand that they don’t want people to go berserk, but Tomar is fine, right? It should be obvious that they don’t need to kill him. At least not before they’re sure he’s a danger to anyone.’”

“People don’t like talking about the Mad Calling,” Mother responded, “but it’s said that those who receive it are not only confused, they are also much stronger than your average knight. If you don’t put them down with force, or you let them escape, gods forbid, they kill everyone in sight. One story speaks of a Mad One destroying an entire town.

“Normal people would believe you’re joking if you told them you had this Calling, but the authorities would be scared for themselves and their citizens. And I worry they would be even more careful if you aren’t acting crazy. If one crazy person can destroy a town, what could a sane person with the same power do?”

“‘Okay, how about faking a different Calling? The priest didn’t see a sign or whatever, so let’s say he hadn’t paid attention.’”

“Tomar would have to prove he received the fake Calling in that case. There is no Calling you can fake easily. The gods grant you more knowledge about your destined profession than you could ever hope to learn until you come of age.”

That’s why most people don’t bother to learn much until they have their ritual, aside from reading, writing, and everyday skills. You receive all the knowledge you need during the ritual.

“‘Hm.’”

Miles appeared to think over what my mother had said. I just wished he didn’t have to give me a headache for just a “Hm,” but he didn’t seem to care much when I told him so.

“‘Do you know what a computer is?’” he asked after a moment.

“No, I don’t,” my mother said.

This was the first time he had said a word I didn’t know. I hadn’t received a real Calling, so I was limited to everything I had seen, heard, and read during my life, but my mother was very knowledgeable. It was rare for her to not know something. I had always assumed that she had received a very powerful Calling, even if it was just a Handiworking one.

“‘Right. Didn’t think so.’”

“What is it? Can it help me?” I asked.

“‘It could if you knew what it was, but based on what I’ve seen of this place through your eyes so far, that probably won’t work.’”

It appeared that Miles was able to see and hear everything I saw and heard, but other than that, he was just a voice in my head. I wonder what it feels like to not have a body.

He was clearly trying to come up with a solution. As was my mother, sitting across from me at the table. I was mostly busy speaking for him. As he had learned more, he started asking more and more very pointed questions. I felt like he was thinking similarly to my mother, and I was hoping the two of them would come up with an idea.

“‘Do you have a merchant Calling or something? One for bankers, or architects? Anything heavy in math?’”

“There are some options,” my mother mused. “Can you handle it?”

“‘It depends. I would have to know what the test would look like, what the exact requirements are.’”

Was I missing something here? During my parroting I must've stopped paying attention somewhere along the line, because I wasn’t sure where exactly these two were going with this.

My mother stood up and walked over to the cabinet she stored her writing utensils in. She took a quill, a jar with ink, and a piece of paper and placed them on the table before starting to write numbers on the sheet. After a few lines, she pushed the paper across the table for me to look at.

“...”

I stared blankly at the paper. My mother knew I didn’t know the kind of math she had written down, and Miles appeared to know only what we taught him. Even if he turned out to be intelligent, he wouldn’t suddenly—

“‘I think we can work with this.’”

“You understand that?” I asked bewildered, as my mother beamed at me. Or maybe at Miles?

“‘Kind of. I recognize the formulas, but I don’t know these numbers. Could you write down all the base numbers?’”

What’s a base number?

My mother appeared to mull over his question for a moment, before realizing what Miles was referring to. She pushed the ink jar and the quill across the table.

“Tomar, write down the numbers from 0 to 7.”

I could do that much, and I did as instructed. After I was done I looked back at my mother, only to be admonished by Miles.

‘Keep looking at the paper!’

I let out a slight grumble. As I lowered my head again, I pondered. If he was able to understand this, would we be able to fake a Calling that incorporated a lot of math? Even then, would that be enough? After a few moments, and for the first time, I heard Miles laughing in my head. Weirdly enough, the pain was much more bearable than before.

“‘Hahaha, octal? This is amazing. Tomar, write down what I’m telling you to.’”

Once more, I did as instructed. I added a few lines below what my mother and I had written down before. He was dictating calculations to me that I had never seen before. Then I pushed the paper over to my mother at Miles’ request. She looked over the paper and smiled.

“I don’t recognize some of these formulas. You know more than me!” my mother cheered. I was stunned.

“‘Alright, what can we do with this?’”

“I have an idea,” my mother said. “One of our neighbors is a statistician for the authorities. Apparently he does nothing but solve equations at work. His wife always complains that it’s all he ever talks about. Do you think you can handle this?”

“‘It would be good if I had a few hours to get used to this number system, and I need some more information. After that, yes.’”

“Our neighbor, Gean, should be home in about an hour,” my mother said. “I will talk to him and try to pry him for information. I will reveal that something went wrong with Tomar’s ritual, but that he came home with an unusual amount of knowledge about math. If he’s willing to show me some of his work, I believe we’ll know what they will test you for if we claim Tomar to be a statistician.”

‘Statisticians. In this place. Seriously?’ Miles mumbled.

“What’s a statistician?” I mumbled in turn.