August 1st, 2152
Bing bong. The alarm clock on the bedside table rang. Emory groaned and tried to cover her head with a pillow. It wasn't the alarm clock that caused her to reject awakening to the world; today was an important day she didn't want to deal with. Emory wanted to enjoy some more summer, but it had run its course. Fall would bring a new school, in a new area, quite far from the rolling sea of wheat she grew up in. Unfortunately, it didn't matter if she wanted to get up or not; the Collective would soon arrive to take her.
After fumbling for the alarm on her mobile and knocking it onto the wood floor, Emory quickly followed the device to the floor as well.
"A medium impact was detected to your floor. Please confirm wellbeing status," a charming British voice said over a nearby speaker.
"Smart enough to know I fell, but not smart enough to stay on the table in the first place," Emory mumbled, "I'm fine, Jask."
Jask, an AI home monitor, chimed, "Miss Reiss, are you getting ready for Commencement Day? You know the Collective will be here in 15 minutes."
"Why did you let me sleep in so long?! I'll never get ready in time," Emory panicked. She rushed to her dresser to find whatever tomboy, flannel, faux lumberjack clothes she could, as long as they were clean. As Emory ran into the bathroom, she stopped for a moment in front of the mirror.
Her bright red curls looked like a bird's nest or two. This would normally take fifteen minutes to fix by itself, yet today that was not an option. She quickly changed her clothes before turning on the shower and thoroughly rinsing her hair, almost soaking it. Next, she took a pick and puffed out every strand. Then she vigorously shook her shoulder length hair and head until the room started to spin. Emory stuck out her hands and gripped the wall to catch her balance. She carefully walked over to the mirror again. She smirked, "Presentable. It'll have to do." She glanced down at her mobile and saw her remaining time had dwindled to six minutes. How nine had already passed, she had no idea.
Luckily, she already had a bag of clothes packed in addition to the school attire she would be given at the Prep School. Still, she had yet to pack her most prized possession, a leather-bound book. It had gold embossing and inside, a funny language covered page after page. Despite numerous attempts to translate or decipher the language, Emory had been entirely unsuccessful at discovering its meaning. More puzzling still, the book was seemingly immune to all forms of damage: fire, knife, tearing. Truthfully, she had only tried to destroy it in anger at her parents, an immature response to life in a government orphanage. She clutched the locket around her neck as she thought back to that fateful day eight years ago when her mother put the locket around Emory's neck and said goodbye for the last time.
After packing the book in the front most pocket of the bag, she sat down and huffed. The moment of peace only lasted a minute before knocks banged on her front door. "Emory Reiss, this is the Collective. Please allow us to transport you to Commencement Day," a deep male voice followed. She snatched her bag and went to the door. The apartment looked bare even before she packed; Emory was a minimalist after her second or third time moving to a different orphanage. Still, she looked at the area with a brief hint of sadness. The moment had passed, and she walked out the door, quickly greeted by a tall burly man wearing a red hooded cloak. "Do you have everything, Miss Reiss?" the man asked.
Emory turned around once more to look in the open room and replied, "I do. There's nothing left for me here, so let's be on our way." He bowed and grabbed her bag as they walked to the car. It was a black Lincoln, often used to pick up mid-tier guests and powered by the latest in cold fusion technology. The man put Emory's bag in the trunk and opened her door to the back. Once they started driving, Emory asked, "How long have you worked with the Collective?"
"I have been with the Collective since its inception," he quickly stated, "Surely you must have guessed they would send a high-ranking member to chauffeur a Reiss, no the Reiss, to Commencement Day."
"I understand my parents were some sort of soldiers, but I didn't know it was such a big
deal," she sighed, a little taken aback by the respect in the driver's words.
The driver shook his head, "Your parents were important scientists from the Mars One unit.
Their discoveries turned the famine crisis on its heels. When they joined the war effort, many
said the government should have made exceptions for them just like many other scientists. And
still, they never complained." Emory barely remembered her parents but knew they were part of a team that discovered an antidote to the bacteria that riddled human crops for several years
before the war. She assumed it was a bigger team, yet this man seemed to imply they had a
more direct role in it. Honestly, looking into her parents or family seemed pointless. After all,
what kind of accomplishments could bring back the dead?
Emory got quiet after that and pulled out her mobile to pass the time. To play games, not to view social media. Sure, she had numerous acquaintances but moved around too often to form real friendships. Besides, she was nearing the end of her puzzle roleplaying game, a favorite pastime. The drive took about forty-five minutes, mostly spent in silence. As they got closer to their destination, a massive fortress came into view. Large black walls mostly blocked the view; however, one could see a pristine glass tower in the center that seemed to reach to the clouds. As they drove closer, two bronze statues stood outside the entrance to this massive complex; Emory knew the man and woman well. Ephraim and Cassandra Black, the heroes of the war, were known far and wide as not only defeating the enemy offensive and turning the tide of the war but also for introducing the world to Magik, a mystical force that varies in strength
from person to person. She thought back to the broadcast that changed the world.
~~~
December 7, 2141
A tall alabaster man stood in front of the presidential podium next to an Amazonian woman in front of a room of reporters. He was wearing a standard black suit coat with a bright red tie while the beauty next to him wore a stunning red gown. He tapped the microphone a few times and cleared his throat to lower the roar of chatter amongst the reporters. "Excuse me. Many of you may have heard the news already so please quiet down," the man's velvet voice boomed. The reporters turned forward to recognize the authority of Ephraim Black, commander of the World Army, second in command to the Collective that ruled over all the world's affairs and single most powerful figure in the world.
"As many of you have already heard, the Mantoan, the intelligent insectoid race from beyond the Sol system, have declared war on Earth and its colonies. We don't know much at this moment, but conventional weapons are showing less than effect against their durable equipment and exoskeleton. Furthermore, our nuclear arsenals have failed to destroy their ships. I won't lie, the situation is more than that to be honest," Ephraim paused as he reached back to grab the woman's hand for support, "Earlier today, the Mantoan successfully destroyed the compound containing the vast majority of the High Collective. Effective immediately, I, Ephraim Black, Command-in-Chief of the World Army, am declaring martial law worldwide and taking command of the Collective. It is with a heavy heart that I bear this burden until we drive this oppressive force from our homes. However, we have hope. Please welcome my wife
Cassandra as she finishes this conference. There will be no questions afterwards."
The room suddenly and briefly erupted into chaos. Not only were they being told that Commander Black was taking over the whole world, but now, the plan would not come from him. His wife was relatively unknown to the public; she had no professional or non-profit credentials and most knew her only as his wife. Then again, when she stepped up to the microphone and cleared her throat, the room was enthralled by her presence. She spoke like honey as she moved it only slightly down from her taller than average husband, "Hello, my name is Cassandra Black, but I was born Cassandra Aurelias. Before I married my husband, I lived a life hidden away from the world and served on a secret council known as the Council of Witches that studied the world through Magik. Many of you will not believe my words, so before I continue, let me prove to you that I speak the truth: Magik is real."
Snickering started almost instantly as she stood back from the podium. Then she conjured a fireball into her hand and the crowd stopped speaking, minus a couple whispers up front. Those were silenced when she conjured a second one in the other hand. Cassandra snapped her fingers, and the flames disappeared. When she snapped them again, the podium became aflame. The crowd of reporters jumped back and screamed in the moment it took Cassandra to snap her fingers again. Once the reporters regained their composure, she returned to the charred podium. She smiled as she eloquently said, "Now that you believe me, I can move on. Magik is present in every human, and we will use this force to turn the tide against the Mantoan. I am one of many witches spread across the Sol system; we are your friends, your co-workers, and your neighbors. Any threat that endangers some of us endangers all of us.
These witches will begin instructing people on how to harness and channel Magik. Thank you for your time." She bowed and walked to her husband's open arms as they walked off stage. The TV continued playing as the reporters yelled out questions to an empty stage. But in the coming days, all was revealed. It took less than a week for the Council of Witches to drive the Mantoan from Earth, but that was when the real war began. It was almost eight years later before humans drove the Mantoan threat from the Sol system.
~~~
After passing the checkpoint outside the fortress, Emory and her driver arrived at a large flower garden outside of the crystalline building. Here were several other statues amongst the tulips, all of the heroes from the war. The driver pointed and said, "See your parents? They wouldn't be here if they were just some soldiers." Emory saw her father and mother in front of a group of five people. Behind them, a copper field of wheat stood strong. The plaque read, "In memory of Mars Team One, led by Marty and Roselin Reiss." Emory sighed and looked away.
The car drove a little further in, leading under the complex to a garage of some sort. They parked alongside a row of similar cars, and the driver quickly came around and opened the door for Emory. "If you'll follow me, Miss Reiss, I will show you to the entrance hall," he said as he bowed.
"The entrance hall?" she questioned, "What will happen to my bags?"
He replied quickly, "After I deliver you to the main group in the entrance hall, I will take your bags to your room. From the entrance hall, they will take everyone to orientation and then you'll be sorted in accordance with the Commencement Day tests." She rolled her eyes at the mention of the tests. He led her through the parking garage towards a large elevator.
"What's your level?" Emory asked with a small pout.
"Seven," he flashed a little bracelet that flashed seven stars, "But don't worry. As I told you already, I have been part of the Collective since the beginning."
She huffed, "Why would I be worried? I'm a Reiss after all."
"Of course, Miss Reiss. I was wrong to suggest otherwise," the driver smiled.
"How many kids are in this year's group?" Emory probed, "I know all the Mars kids from all five bases come to the same Commencement Day event."
The driver rubbed his chin and slowly responded, "Given the enrollment numbers I saw, your class should be the largest yet, topping ten thousand students." It was quite an impressive number given this was ten thousand seventeen-year-olds, and the vast majority were native Martians. Most of these students would have been from Mars Base One, but Emory lived in a private section of the base, away from the Citadel where most people lived. Indeed, the more she thought about it, she really did have a much different life than her former classmates; however, she always chalked this up to her parents being former scientists and thus lived near the research area of the base. Finally, they reached the elevator. The driver made sure to press
the button for the main floor before waving goodbye to Emory. "Good luck, Miss Reiss. Your journey begins today!" he said encouragingly. She smiled and waved as the doors shut. It was a quick ride, though, with the improvements mankind had made in technology, that wasn't a good indicator of how deep they had driven under the base.
When the doors opened, she saw a huge student body sprawled out over the massive courtyard area. The green, partially shady meadow was the size of one square mile and contained more than ten thousand students, teachers, and other staff mingling about. At the entrance were several booths with letters above them. Emory recognized the registration-style stands from high school and quickly got in line for the "R" booth. A shorter girl with forest green hair was talking to some other students in front of Emory, who decided to turn away from them at least until someone else joined the line. That was until she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to an extended hand from the green-haired girl and a glowing smile. "My name is Sam. What's your name?" Sam asked Emory.
"I'm Emory," she said hesitantly, "You're forward, aren't you?"
Sam's laughter shook the air around them, "And you're a shy one, aren't you? I hope they put us as roommates. I'm going to get you out of your shell. Well, Emory, where are you from?"
"I'm from Mars Base One," she smiled, "What about you?"
"I'm from Base Five in the South. It's much cooler at the pole than it is here," Sam commented. Emory rocked her body awkwardly to fill the dead time until Sam giggled, "Are you nervous for the Examination? I've heard it's actually very tame."
"What's your sphere?" Emory deflected, wanting to avoid talking about the proceedings.
"Actually, my last name is Rice and I'm probably one of the only council children here," Sam bragged, "My family specializes in shifting."
Emory's eyes lit up as she exclaimed, "Wow! What can you shift into?"
"I don't know if you know much about shifting, but it's much different than regular magik spheres," Sam explained, "As I'm sure you know, each sphere transforms the magik you use into different forms. Normally, it comes out as some kind of pulse or bolt, but shifting is a specialized pulse. When you shift, you direct the magik inwards and transform your body into another form. Each class of animal requires more and more magik to channel and maintain internally. But even as a young practitioner, I can still shift into a golden eagle or a grizzly bear." That sounded impressive to Emory, but she was not sure if it actually was or not. Although, if shifting was like every other sphere, she reasoned that there must be five recognized tiers just like every other one. If Sam mentioned two distinct creatures with different abilities, they should be on different tiers, meaning she was on the second tier of her sphere. Emory was still thinking this through when Sam interrupted, "What about you? What's your sphere?"
"I haven't picked one yet," Emory mumbled.
"You haven't picked one?" Sam hissed, "It's awfully late in your education to start your first sphere. Won't we be working on our other sphere around midterm?"
Emory shrugged, "I figure I'll just put some extra work into my general magik level until I decide on a sphere. I pick up things quickly."
"A general master, huh? What tier is your Pull?" Sam prodded.
"It's only a four," Emory started, "But I can also use Light, Growth, and Life Sow of varying levels as well." Sam just stood there with her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide.
Her voice wavered, "I've never heard of a level four student. Though I suppose since you haven't picked a sphere yet, it balances out." Emory just made an odd laugh at the back-handed compliment.
When it was finally time for Sam to check in, she quickly rattled off her name, wrote her signature, and moved aside to wait for her new friend. Emory, not wanting to reveal her last name yet, faked a coughing fit and pointed to her name when she found it on the sheet. The cough managed to stop just as she finished signing her name. Sam motioned for Emory, and the pair continued on to the open area.
Beyond the registration area, hundreds of people were moving around from different parts of the courtyard. It looked less like a clump and more like an amoeba, alive and aware of the developing situation. When two teens had a scuffle, the far side of the crowd moved away with the group even though it was highly unlikely they even knew about the disturbance. On the other hand, this was not an even mixture. Each sphere of magik belonged to a larger family that shared similarities between the spheres, and it appeared that many of the people had either learned each other's sphere or congregated around those using their magik to show off. Emory followed Sam to the outer edge of the crowd as Sam waved to other students. "I found my friends from my old school. Do you want to come meet them or search this horde for someone
you know?" Sam asked cheekily.
"I think we both know I'd rather just stand out here awkwardly at the edge," Emory said with her tongue stuck out. Sam just laughed and pulled Emory along to the group. Four teens, two boys and two girls, were standing near the edge of the larger group. As they got closer, Sam called out, "Come introduce yourselves! We've got a live one." The girls giggled as everyone huddled around Sam and Emory.
One of the boys was taller and bigger than the average person around here. He extended his darker skinned hand and bellowed, "My name is Innes, and my sphere is flame." Emory attempted to shake his hand, but, with the size difference, it was more like she was shaking three fingers.
A petite platinum blonde under five feet curtsied and squeaked, "Call me Tethys. I'm a creation witch." Emory returned the curtsy.
"Hey, girl, call me Gatrie," a lanky boy with shoulder length brown hair said, "Can you feel the connection between us?" Emory felt a little shock as she shook his hand and rolled her eyes.
Finally, an athletic girl almost as tall as Innes with jet black hair stuck out her hand and smirked, "And I'm Tana. My sphere is frost, and it is a pleasure to meet you."
"Hello to all of you," Emory said quietly and a bit overwhelmed, "My name is Emory, and I haven't picked a sphere yet."
The new group leaned back and widened their eyes at this comment until Sam interjected, "But she has a level four Pull," which only caused more looks of shock. Whispers filled the air quickly but stopped just as swiftly when Sam cleared her throat.
Finally, Tethys asked, "What sphere are you going to pick up? The school offers quite a few."
"I haven't decided yet. Truth be told, I'd like to see what the classes will be like then pick," Emory replied. She had a suspicion that the book left by her parents was a spellbook, if she could only figure out how to read it, but she was not going to reveal that to her new classmates yet. Spellbooks were learning tools passed on to facilitate growth in a particular sphere. One had to be careful though; every person could only learn two spheres of magik.
With the introductory questions out of the way, the new students talked about their summer break and the adventures they had. They were all from Mars Base Five, a smaller base near the South Pole used to produce and treat water for Mars, so many of their stories sounded similar. Of course, since Emory was from Mars Base One and specifically the research division, the group had many questions for her.
"What kinds of things have you been working on?" Gatrie questioned.
Emory explained, "Mostly plants. You see, even though the bacteria that caused the famine has been eradicated, there are still pockets of farms across the Sol system that are still having issues. It seems that some of the bacteria has developed a resistance to the treatment."
"Does that mean it could spread again?" Tana worried, "We were just starting to recover."
"No, there's no chance that it could spread. The mutations have only increased their resistance to treatment, not increased their transmission. Magik is used to contain the outbreaks. Until it develops a resistance to magik, it's very stable," Emory continued. They all chuckled at the idea: nothing could resist magik.
After an hour or two, all the new students seemed to have been processed and the dull roar of them had transformed into a packed stadium. Then a trumpet's horn cut through the noise; quickly the students turned toward the sound. A large podium stood at the edge of the steps to the school and behind it stood a large, robust man with a red burly beard and no hair on top. Although the trumpet blast had caused most of the students to face the podium, several near the back continued to talk until the air temperature dropped thirty degrees. The man at the front was only blowing a small breeze of cold, yet the students couldn't help but chatter their teeth at the change. When he stopped though, the crowd had quieted down, and everyone was facing him. "Welcome, all of you fine young people, to Commencement Day!"