The rain on Mortrum did not merely soak; it burned if one remained within it too long. Ash watched the rain sheet down the temple windows and measured the walk home by how long two stubborn children could survive it without complaining, or worse, hurting themselves.
Ash was tall, already taller than his mother at sixteen. He had inherited her wheat-colored hair, cut short and left unruly. A small, unkempt patch of facial hair had begun to form on his chin and above his lips. His face was rough, marked by years of acidic burns and grime.
He had faint hollows set beneath piercing blue eyes, which his mother had told him were just like his father's.
And because no one knew the man, everyone invented him: sovereign's bastard, priest's mistake, Inquisitor's favor.
Most did not even bother whispering. The things said about Ash and his mother were never meant to be quiet.
Rain said the ambiguity kept them alive.
Ash would never question his mother, but he loathed the insults. He could not stand anyone speaking ill of her.
He wore the red hooded robes of a temple apprentice. The polymer fabric was designed to be both practical and resistant to Mortrum's extreme climate, hanging loosely over his frame.
"Big Brother Ash!" an excited voice called from the doorway of the small classroom.
Ash turned to find Spark, a blonde boy with a puffy, ash-colored face, and his sister Miru, a mild-mannered, thin girl with brown hair. She was the one who had called his name.
"Welcome back. Which of you passed? My bet's on Miru. Spark can't write to save his life."
Spark stuck out his tongue. "In your face, Ash. We both passed."
Miru shook her head. "He means thank you, Big Brother. And… the Head Priest wants to see you."
"Okay, I'll go meet him. You both should wrap yourselves up well. The temple is about to close, and we will have to walk home in the rain."
Spark and Miru did not look pleased, but they nodded.
Ash walked into the hallway, constructed of black composite material, with an orange LED strip embedded along the ceiling.
He knocked on the Head Priest's door.
The door opened automatically.
The room was crowded in a way Ash disliked. Wooden shelves and containers lined the walls, filled with miscellaneous objects. A patterned mat covered much of the floor, leaving little free space. To Ash, it felt excessive.
Ash stood where he was expected and waited to be acknowledged.
After several silent moments, the high priest finally spoke.
"You are sixteen, yes?"
"Sixteen and six months, Your Worship."
"So you have reached working age. Have you decided how you will serve? Your performance has been… acceptable. The Flame has carried you farther than your blood deserved. Now you will repay it."
The priest paused before continuing, "You have already apprenticed with the Ember-Forged, the Flamebound, and the Flame Scholars."
"Yes, Your Worship."
"Your knowledge is too rudimentary to be of use to the Flame Scholars. I believe you will have better success with either the tech-priests or the Flamebound Knights. The latter, however, is dominated by children of sovereign families. They will not accept you."
Ash did not know what "rudimentary" meant, but he knew an insult when he heard one.
The priest had listed the available paths: tech-priest, Flamebound, or scholar. The Flame alone knew how many years would pass before Ash might gain real authority in those paths.
None of those paths would protect Spark or Miru from danger. They would allow him to help his mother even less.
"Your guidance honors me… but I wish to test for the Red Mandate."
The High Priest fixed him with a pointed stare.
"Any citizen of the Empire might dream of becoming an Inquisitor. Very few possess the talent or discipline required for the Red Mandate. You may have come far for one of your lineage, but do you forget the benevolence that allows you to live and study here?"
"No, Your Worship, I…"
"Enough. I have honored the Inquisitor's curious request for leniency toward your mother's settlement and granted you more opportunity than most. If he believes you are suited to the Red Mandate, he may come to claim you himself... I do not."
The High Priest allowed his words to settle in the air before continuing.
"The two you brought, though older than our usual apprentices, have passed the initial examination and will begin training tomorrow. You may take them and leave. Inform the Forge-Magister or the Knight-Warden of your decision before the end of this week."
"Yes, Your Worship. Thank you."
Ash walked backward until he reached the door before stepping outside.
The High Priest's presence still suffocated him in a way the rest of the temple no longer did.
He swallowed the bitterness before it reached his face. Spark and Miru did not need to see it.
When he returned to the children, they were wrapped heavily in synthetic materials. Their shabby protection against the storm marked them clearly as children of the slave settlements of Mortrum. Anyone from the cities would have felt entitled to harass them.
Fortunately, the rain kept most people indoors, and the temple stood near the city gates.
It would still take them about two hours to walk back to the settlement.
The three of them slowly made their way towards the checkpoint.
"I think your mother is holding another meeting tonight," Spark said.
"And there's a new stream from the Silver Princess," Miru added, brightening.
"Yeah," Ash murmured, though his eyes were on the guards at the checkpoint.
"Of course, Ash is excited," Spark grinned. "He never blinks when her stream is on." Spark cackled.
Ash made a soft punching motion toward Spark, who dodged while laughing.
He could not stay angry at the boy. He often found himself waiting eagerly for the Silver Princess's monthly streams.
"Oh, really? Like how you stare at Miru sometimes?" Ash whispered casually, just loud enough for Spark to hear.
"I so do not," Spark muttered, his face turning red.
"I hope I can be like her someday," Miru said, oblivious to the boys' conversation.
They had reached the checkpoint. Ash studied the guards on duty.
'By the Flame… not him.'