The morning of the following day began with a phone call.
Sailor was still lying in bed, eyes not yet open, when the phone on the nightstand vibrated and lit up insistently. He found it without looking, brought it to his face, and squinted at the brightness.
The name on the screen was: Lina.
He sat up on the bed, ran a hand through his hair, and accepted the call.
«Hey, little brother.»
His sister's voice was lively, warm, a little loud, as always. Sailor smiled in spite of himself. Twenty years, and he still reacted to her voice the same way he had in childhood: everything immediately felt a little warmer.
«Hey, Lina,» he said, leaning his back against the wall. «What time is it over there?»
«Late evening. Just got out of a meeting. Doesn't matter,» she was clearly waving the question off. «How are you? I haven't called in two days, I nearly died of worry.»
«Two days is nothing,» said Sailor.
«It is to me. You're my little brother, I have the right to worry.»
He gave a small laugh and got up from the bed. Walked to the window. Outside, the city was already awake, the sun was low, fresh and morning, the sky was clear. The tower on the horizon was dark as always, unchanged, silent.
«Everything's fine,» he said. «Quiet at home. Mom called yesterday, asked when you're coming next.»
«Soon,» Lina sighed. «Lots of work. You know how it gets here.»
He did.
Lina had left for the United States three years ago. She was twenty-five at the time, already a rank A hunter, one of the strongest in her age group in the country. The American Hunters Association had offered her a contract with good terms, and she had accepted. Their parents had taken it calmly, understanding that trying to hold her back would be pointless.
In three years she had risen to rank SSS.
That was a level Sailor could barely imagine. SSS meant catastrophe on a national scale. A person with that rank could single-handedly change the outcome of a war between countries. There were fewer than twenty such people in the world.
His sister was one of them.
Lina, for her part, called every two days, asked how things were going, sent photos from American cities, and sometimes complained about the local food. The gap between who she was and the way she talked to him had always slightly disarmed Sailor.
«Listen,» she said, and a different note entered her voice, slightly more serious. «I'm also calling about something specific.»
«I know,» he said.
«Yesterday was supposed to be your window,» said Lina. «According to the system's calculations. Did you feel anything yesterday? Or nothing?»
The awakening window. That was an unofficial concept hunters had been using for a long time. The system sometimes sent faint signals a few days before an awakening: changes in how one felt, in perception, a light pressure in the chest. Experienced hunters had learned to read them. Lina was very good at it.
She had been watching him for more than a year. He knew it; she had never really tried to hide it.
Sailor paused for a moment.
«Lina,» he said. «I awakened.»
A pause.
«Yesterday?»
«Yesterday,» he confirmed. «During the day, near the eastern perimeter.»
«Sailor.» His sister's voice went very even, the tone she used when she was trying not to let emotions break through. «Why didn't you call right away?»
«I wanted to sort it out first,» he said simply.
«Sort it out,» she repeated slowly. «All right. What did the system show? Rank? Type?»
♢ ♢ ♢ ♢
He told her everything.
Without cutting anything short, without choosing his words carefully. Just in order: the pressure inside, the flash of the system, the error with determining his type, the rows of characteristics without skills and without talent. Then the contract that had arrived a few minutes later from an unknown entity with no name and no conditions. How he had agreed. The Nameless Contract. Dragon's Will.
While he spoke, Lina was silent. That in itself was unusual: she always interrupted, always inserted comments, always reacted with energy. Now there was not a sound.
He finished and waited.
«Repeat the last part,» she said at last.
«Nameless Contract,» said Sailor. «The system couldn't determine the entity's name. It wrote: system designation assigned.»
«And the trait.»
«Dragon's Will.»
Another pause. A longer one.
«Sailor,» said Lina, and now there was something in her voice he could not quite name. Not fear. Not anxiety. Something closer to very focused attention. «Are you at home right now?»
«Yes.»
«Don't go anywhere for now,» she said. «I want to check something. Give me an hour.»
«Lina,» he said calmly. «I'm not going to hide. I'm going to register with the Association.»
The pause became almost tangible.
«Register.»
«Yes.»
«With a nameless contract and the type anomaly.»
«With what I have,» he said evenly. «I'm not going to hide this, Lina. That's not the way.»
He heard her exhale. Slowly, through her nose, the way she always did when she was holding herself back.
«You've always been stubborn,» she said at last, and something warm, almost amused but not quite, returned to her voice. «Even as a kid. Remember when you were eight and decided to fix your bike yourself and wasted half a day instead of just asking Dad?»
«I fixed it,» Sailor reminded her.
«Crookedly,» she said.
«But it worked.»
Lina laughed. Quietly, briefly. Then she was serious again.
«Listen to me carefully,» she said. «A nameless contract is not just a rarity. In eight years in this business I haven't heard of a single case like it. Not one, do you understand? If the entity didn't name itself, it either means it's so powerful it doesn't need to, or it's deliberately hiding. Neither of those options is simple.»
«I understand,» said Sailor.
«And Dragon's Will,» she continued. «That's not a class. Not a skill. It's a trait. Traits are given by the system as an innate quality or as the result of a very deep bond. Where you got a dragon's trait at your first awakening is a question I don't have an answer to yet.»
«Neither do I,» he agreed.
«Are you not afraid?»
He thought about it. Honestly, without hurrying.
«No,» he said at last.
«Why?»
«I don't know,» he said. «Just no. There's something inside, some kind of presence. It's quiet. It doesn't press or threaten. It just is.»
Lina was silent.
«Take care of yourself,» she said at last. Quietly and without extra words. In the tone that meant she was being serious and asking him to take it the same way.
«Always,» he answered.
«And call me right after you register.»
«I will.»
«I promise I'll come for New Year's again,» she said, and her voice became normal and warm once more. «If you don't make a mess of things before then.»
«I'll try.»
«Sailor.»
«What?»
«I'm glad you awakened,» said Lina. «Really.»
He didn't say anything. Just nodded, even though she couldn't see it.
The call ended. The screen went dark.
♢ ♢ ♢ ♢
Sailor stood by the window for another minute, phone in hand.
Outside it was a fine morning. Bright, without clouds. People moved along the sidewalks, cars drove quietly down the street, somewhere in the distance someone was running a lawnmower. All ordinary, all familiar.
He put the phone in his pocket and went to the kitchen. Made coffee, drank it standing at the window, without hurrying. He thought about his sister's words. About the nameless contract. About the fact that she had not heard of a single case like it in eight years.
"First, then," he thought.
That did not frighten him. It gave him a strange feeling instead, as though he were standing at the threshold of something vast and looking in. Not knowing what was there. But looking.
He finished his coffee, placed the mug in the sink, and went to get dressed.
The city branch of the Hunters Association was located in the central district, in a seven-story building of grey stone with a wide facade and metal gates at the entrance. Above the gates hung the standard Association emblem: a ring with a sword inscribed within it. Sailor had passed by many times but had never gone inside.
Today he went in.
Inside was a spacious lobby with high ceilings. Registration desks along the left wall, a waiting area with rows of seats, a large screen on the wall broadcasting current threat levels for the towers across the region. There were quite a few people: hunters in light gear, several people in civilian clothing, someone standing at a board with raid announcements.
Sailor approached a free desk.
Behind it sat a woman of about thirty-five, a composed face, hair pulled back, a senior registrar's patch on her jacket.
«First-time registration,» said Sailor.
The woman looked up, gave him a brief professional once-over, and nodded.
«Identification and system display,» she said.
He placed his identity card on the desk. Then he focused and brought up the system screen the way he had practiced at home yesterday, with a calm and steady mental effort. The system responded immediately, the screen appearing before him, semi-transparent and bluish.
The woman looked at his data through her scanning tablet. Her face remained calm for approximately three seconds. Then something shifted. Barely, her gaze lingering just slightly longer on the lines, her lips pressing together just slightly more firmly.
«One moment, please,» she said evenly.
She stood and went through the door behind the desk. She returned two minutes later, not alone: beside her walked a man of about fifty, broad-shouldered, with close-cropped greying hair. His jacket carried three patches, and Sailor knew what that meant: senior branch supervisor.
«Good morning,» the man said, stopping across from him. «My name is Korin. I oversee primary registrations for non-standard cases.» He nodded at Sailor's system screen. «May I ask a few questions?»
«Yes,» said Sailor.
«The awakening occurred yesterday?»
«Yesterday.»
«The contract was accepted the same day?»
«A few minutes after the awakening.»
Korin looked at his data. Then raised his eyes.
«Nameless Contract,» he said. Not as a question. He simply repeated it aloud, as though testing the sound of the words.
«Yes,» said Sailor.
«Are you aware that a case of this kind is the first in our database?»
«I had a feeling,» said Sailor.
Korin was quiet for a moment. Then he did something Sailor had not expected: gave a slight nod, with something that looked like respect.
«Very well,» he said. «Registration will proceed in the standard manner. Your type will be listed as anomaly, the contract as nameless. We are placing no special restrictions on you; you have full right to operate as a hunter.» He paused. «But I would recommend you stay alert. The fact that the entity did not name itself does not mean it is weak. More often than not, it means the opposite.»
«I understand,» said Sailor.
«You will receive your hunter's card at the desk,» said Korin. «Welcome to the Association.»
He turned and walked back the way he had come.
♢ ♢ ♢ ♢
Ten minutes later Sailor walked out of the Association building with a card in his pocket.
Thin, metal, bearing his name and information: type anomaly, contract nameless, rank E. The starting rank for all new hunters regardless of potential. Everything beyond that was up to him.
He stopped on the steps and looked at the city.
The sun had climbed higher, the day was gaining strength. People walked by, someone laughed, someone spoke on a phone. The tower on the horizon was dark in the morning light.
The warmth in his chest pulsed evenly and quietly.
"Well," thought Sailor. "Let's begin."
He came down the steps and walked along the street. Calmly, without hurry.
Twenty-two years old. Rank E. Type anomaly. A nameless contract with an unknown entity. A trait no one else had.
A poor start for an ordinary person.
But he had long since stopped being ordinary.