Ranvir sat in the kitchen of Elpir’s orphanage the day after the trials. The children had finished eating breakfast and cleaning up, so it was just him, Elpir, Amalia, and Frija. Vasso had been put into time out due to not wanting to wash his own bowl, but Ranvir suspected he would soon show up again. The boy remarkably followed his own punishment without complaint or even that much follow through from Elpir.

“So your first job as my apprentice—“

“Beneficiary or recipient would be more correct terms.”

“Servant then,” she said, then jumped right back into her monologue. “Is to look after the children while Elpir and I go on a date,” Amalia finished the sentence with little sign that she’d actually heard him speak.

“That doesn’t seem like it fits with the role of a Sentinel.”

“You’re not the Sentinel, your part of the Sentinels,” Amalia was quick to add. “You’re an applicant. Once you reach the third Tier, you’ll be raised to watcher and officially join our cause.”

“Great, I’ll keep a lookout,” Ranvir frowned as Amalia’s words twirled in his brain a little longer. “Did you say a date?”

Elpir smiled as she put down her mug of tea. “Amalia’s taking me on a date, finally. It’s been too long since our last one.”

“That’s on you, not me.”

They’re dating, Ranvir realized with an explosion of blue and red shock blasting apart the gray goop. I’m… that makes much more sense.

“Are you okay?” Amalia asked, looking at him askance.

“Yeah,” Ranvir nodded with a weak smile. “Anything else I should keep up to dating—date on while you’re going… away?”

“If you have the time, get some work done on your Ability. For a Kistios, the rule for Ability Score is three times your Level. This is, however, arbitrary and because Kistios are held to a lower standard than someone stronger.”

Ranvir nodded. “I haven’t spent much time on my Abilities, yet. I’ve been mostly working on my Absolute, I figured it would come in handy.”

“It definitely does when constructed more advanced Abilities,” Amalia said with a nod as she put her mug in the sink. Ranvir sensed the use of her powers as she pushed out all the water remaining.

“Daddy?” Frija asked, looking up from where she had two stone cat figurines running along the kitchen floor. “You’re going to become strong?”

“I’m going to be working on it,” he replied tentatively. Frija gave him a blank stare in return. “Yeah.”

“Does that mean you’re going to become pretty like Amalia? Or Pashar?”

Ranvir scratched at his chin as both Elpir and Amalia laughed behind. “No, that has nothing to do with their power. I’m still going to look like this. Don’t worry, Firehearth.”

“Oh…”

This bitch, Ranvir cursed internally as Frija returned to her cats with a sad frown.

“Anyway, we’ll see you around Ranvir,” Elpir said, wrapping an arm around Amalia.

That makes so much more sense, Ranvir thought as he watched them go. “That’s why she was sleeping in her room!”

“What?” Frija asked, cocking her head to look at Ranvir.

“Uh, nothing Firehearth,” Ranvir leaned down and kissed on her gently on the head. “Let’s go see what the other kids are doing.”

Turns out, kids mostly took care of themselves. Elpir’s did, at least. He’d learned enough from staying at the orphanage for the better part of half a year that it was only once the kids got quiet that he needed to be worried.

Now, Ranvir found himself in the kitchen, going over his employment contract as part of the Sentinels. He essentially got the job of a watcher on the basis that he reached Tier 3 within the next month.

It had taken him three years to reach Tier 2 and Level 13, which meant he was still off by 7 Levels. However, the requirements for advancement in Amanaris were a lot less strict than as a tethered, also a lot less esoteric. They had no concepts of maturity of power, training it to get ready, or even growing it within the individual Levels. Instead, you just needed katapetra stone.

During the last two years of cleansings, when the locals all gathered to work through the weakest of the local folds, he’d gotten enough katapetra together to reach Level 13. He’d had to share these with the rest of the people he’d gone with and Sentinels went into folds alone or in small groups.

Reaching Level 20 and getting into the third Tier shouldn’t be a problem, especially not with Amalia’s help. As a watcher, his pay was based on his level of training, his achievements within the Sentinels, and his actual strength. A bottom floor Tier 3 watcher trainee earned nearly as much as a hull cleaner.

The contract had a few other stipulations, some related to frequency of work, as well as required assignments that might come up. Sometimes the local government would hire the Sentinels for some sort of work. The contract didn’t go into specifics about the job, but he imagined the frequency of such tasks were more closely related to the braced’s Abilities than their strengths.

There were a bunch of requirements for him to read, general safety regarding Sentinel estates, the use of Abilities against others (both braced and normals), then surprisingly part of the text tackled appropriate behavior between members of the Sentinels.

Ranvir winced as he read through those densely packed pages. Ranvir didn’t want to imagine the behavior that made such a document necessary. He also couldn’t fathom what would get people to do most of these things. Sure, when he’d worked at the docks, most of the men had mostly talked about sex, but it seemed so banal to him when mana was available.

He shook his head and put the papers down. This wasn’t the first time he’d read them through, but he’d read enough historical records to know that sometimes text seemed obvious but hid subtler meanings. Nothing he could find in the contract, even on a third pass, seemed designed to trap him.

Ranvir enjoyed the silence of the house as wandered over to his pack and put the papers away. Idly, he ran his senses through the house, searching for the children. Then he did again. He sensed Frija down by the impromptu pond that had appeared after another crack had let water gather inside it.

And no one else.

Ranvir had gathered all the kids in the biggest room of the orphanage. They were all on the floor in front of him as he scowled at them. Except for Frija, who was sitting in the back and playing with the frog she’d found in the pond.

For a long time, Ranvir had wondered how he was going to have to punish the kids for running away. Eventually, he’d realized that nothing he could do or say as a single time caretaker was ever going to bring them in line. They’d seen their leash slip loose, and they’d gone for the hills.

“How many of you want to use Amanaris when you grow up?” about half the kids raised their arms. “How many of you want to work with your hands?” Two or three kids lifted theirs. “How many of you want to read for a living?”

“I want to be a Sentinel when I grow up!” one kid called.

Ranvir pursed his lips. Had he phrased it poorly? “How many of you want to be Sentinels? How many of you want to become braced?”

Most of the kids’ arms flew up, only the older kids. Too grown up and cool to play along didn’t react. “I want to be a princess!”

“You can’t idiot, you’re a boy!”

“No-uh!”

“Yu-uh!”

Ranvir heard a loud smack followed by crying. Someone else chimed up, “I want to be a princess too!”

“No, I want to become a hydra!” the boy then let out a fearsome screech as he reared back.

Shit, Ranvir thought, seeing the carefully cultivated peace from fear fall flat in a flash. Chaos erupted as the children aged eight to eleven erupted into a hyperactive crowd that gave him a headache just looking at it. The older kids, closer to fifteen, got up and headed for the door as the youngest started throwing fits from the noise and disturbance. Ranvir could only watch with wide-eyes.

Ranvir turned his gaze to the teenagers aiming to leave, his purple eyes flashing as they locked on to the three escapees. “You, over here, now.”

They quickly scurried in his direction. “You’re the oldest here. You’re going to help me handle this.”

“Uh, okay,” one of them nodded. He looked a little pale as he avoided eye contact. “What do you want us to do?”

“What did you enjoy doing when you were their age?” Ranvir asked.

“Um, playing games, sir,” another kid answered.

“Good, start a game and take hyperactive monsters away.”

“Monsters?”

“You know what I mean. I can handle the quiet ones.”

Ranvir sat in the kitchen when Elpir and Amalia returned. They’d both gotten dirty during their date. Splatters of flour, milk, and other baking ingredients liberally stained their outfits. They also returned with half a misshapen loaf of bread and some cake.

“We saved you a slice,” Elpir said, grinning widely as she awkwardly reached across the kitchen island.

Ranvir smiled at them. “Thanks,” he took the slice of cake from her. She lingered oddly with her arm extended. He looked her over, realizing there were streaks on her face where the flour had cleared off. Had she been crying? He examined her further and yes… her eyes were slightly red still. “Are you okay?”

He glanced at Amalia, who stood behind her. Veins stood out clearly on her neck and she was growing progressively more red-faced. Elpir still lingered, reaching across the island awkwardly, almost painfully, as she shook her arms from side to side. Tentatively, Ranvir reached to give the slice of cake back.

“Ugh,” Elpir exclaimed with a sigh and fell back.

“I told you,” Amalia wheezed.

Ranvir looked quizzically at the two of them.

“You owe me two keys.” Amalia was leaning on the wall now.

Elpir huffed and crossed her arms angrily.

“What’s going on? Why does she owe you money?”

Elpir shook her arms again, this time mockingly, making the bands she’d wrapped around them tingle softly. Ranvir returned the gesture, which seemed to be the final straw for Amalia, and she burst into full-blown laughter, waking the entire orphanage right back up again.