I always felt like something was deeply wrong with our existence. Something was off and troubling, but I could never identify the root of the problematic hunch.
Everyday since our birth, I felt a call echo inside my thoughts. It is a voice of a woman I don't know, gentle and troubled and somehow she knew my name. Her call sent ripples of faces, people, and places into my subconscious mind, each a flash of projected memories of lives I never lived. The advisors told me it was customary for our kind to experience this, these sudden and surreal visions. The meshing of our mind with hers connects us to each other, and by proxy our minds overflow and spill into each other, like overfilled vials in a plugged sink.
At least, that's what we all believed and were taught.
This is supposed to be easy. All we do is train, read, eat, and sleep. Our existence and routine was created to serve a higher purpose. That's what my brood brothers said as we ruminated after dark in our cots, long after the advisors went to bed. I came to understand that our lives, or at least my life, is disposable, even digestable, for her.
But, the boredom of these walls taunt me. I know she is waiting. For me, for us. Eventually, I know a path will appear that will lead me toward that feeling, pulsating deep within my being like an aching affliction.
-
Somehow, I have an indescribable hunch that today, something will go wrong. Already the air in the cavern was damper than usual, maybe due to the rising temperatures from the summer heat. The advisors as of late have also appeared oddly distracted, mumbling amongst one another.
I quickly fell into routine after waking up from the morning call. Wash up, breakfast, classes, training, reading, dinner, sleep. That’s our pattern, since my first day awake, always orderly and never missed. I ate my portion of breakfast lazily at the dining table in the main living area, chewing the loaf of bread slowly before sipping on my tea which had long gone cold since its earlier pouring.
My nineteen other brothers sat at the table as well. We are all the same age, born roughly around the same time, and have similar features. All of us have varying shades of green or brown hair and eyes, similar height, similar facial features, and similar builds. The only differences between us brothers were our voices, personality, and talents.
I never cared to get to know all of my brothers. The process is grating and not worth the effort. The only one I tolerated and trusted was Coda, who sat beside me devouring pieces of bread in succession.
“Any unusual dreams last night?” He asked, mouth stuffed with sourdough.
I thought for a moment, trying to formulate a proper response internally. I did have a dream, but it was a pleasant one for once.
I dreamed of a woman with eyes black as night, who rested her head against my right shoulder as we sat beneath a large, shady willow tree. Her hair was obsidian as well, and wrapped around her like a silk drapery. Our body warmth intermingles, her breath close to mine.
In the distance, the sun is beginning to set over the golden horizon of farmland, covered with lush wheat fields, grassy flower patches, and idling dairy cows. As we admired the view in silence, the woman grabbed a nearby pomegranate, split it, and handed me one half. The thought of sharing such a dream with him would be troublesome, on top of our brothers sitting within earshot.
“No, not tonight.” I replied quietly.
“Junior, you're lucky. At least you dream. I never had one, not since we were kids.” Coda said matter of factly.
“Hm… True.” Was all I could muster to say back.
Most of the others had finished up their food and were in the lesson room, our first block of the day after breakfast. It was a room deeper within the cavern, housing a large chalkboard on the far wall with rows of wooden tables and chairs in tight succession. This was the main room we used for most parts of the day, using it to study different topics with our advisors. I pondered the potential lesson in a few minutes that would force me to wake up and listen. Daydreaming was a routine indulgence in this dreadful hall.
Coda and I finished our breakfast in silence, dropped off our utensils and trays into the return bin, then headed into the lesson room.
When we arrived, we took a seat in the back row and waited as our remaining brothers filed in. We all mingled amongst ourselves, Coda and I discussing absent minded thoughts of interesting class topics. While he preferred our social studies courses on the history of the order, I preferred our strategy classes on tactical battle analysis. We agreed that training was more enjoyable, however.
After a moment, the advisors arrived. The head advisor was stern and experienced with battle, his face visible with deep scars of battles we knew nothing of. The second advisor was a master of humanities and economics, a deep well of knowledge that pushed the limits of our minds with a more relaxed personality. The third advisor was a tactician of eld, hair grey and eyes dull yet still sharp, who came every seven days with a new batch of materials for our various courses and training blocks. Since we were young, these men have raised us alongside the masked assistants in black.
“Attention.” The first advisor said sternly. After a moment once the chatter died down, the third advisor stepped forward with a clipboard in hand.
“Today, you will be assigned to your Role. Before that, you will complete the Assessment.” His gravely voice dragged on slowly, fingers raising the clipboard higher to view its contents.
“We will begin in numerical order. Wait until your number is called.”
Soon, the process started, and one by one we were each called out of the lesson room and escorted out with an assistant.
After a bit of time and most of us had been called, I was suddenly struck by how odd it was that no one had returned. And this Role or Assessment, it was something unknown to us. If I had to assume, I would guess it was something about our purpose. Maybe she had a part in all this. Well, we were often told to do or say unusual things, so this isn’t outside the realm of possibility.
Then, it was only me and Coda left to be tested. We were both the youngest of the batch, and typically we are called from oldest onward. I gave Coda a small nod as he passed me and he replied with his big cheeky smirk, our eyes meeting briefly before he turned away and out the door.
I waited some more, this time for a longer period of time than before. My mind drifted to the dream of the woman, then to the mercurial visions, then to my brothers.
Eventually an assistant came to fetch me, where I then followed the silent attendant to the metal doorway that the advisors use to enter our chambers. The attendant slid his keycard over the electronic reader, which activated the door to open with a loud clunk.
I hesitated for a moment. It felt taboo to go into a place where we were previously instructed not to enter. With a small step forward, then another, I felt my body carry on and follow. The thought of treading on new land filled me with indescribable curiosity, shy with glee.
We walked for what seemed like half a kilometer down the hallway, where an occasional door would pass by as we walked. As I began to daydream from the monotony of the corridor, the assistant suddenly stopped before a black door. He used his keycard again, and opened the entrance. The attendant took a step to the side, allowing me to enter. I thought it odd for him to let me go in first.
I headed in through the doorway, unafraid of the unknown test I must face. Once inside, it was pitch black, unnervingly quiet, and notiably there was no advisor or attendant present.
All of a sudden, the door shut behind me and locked with a loud mechanical click.
Then, the darkness enveloped me like a suffocating embrace.
[ rough draft version 0.2 - last updated 9/28/25 ]
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