Fifteen years of age. That’s when you receive your Calling. Your destiny, “bestowed upon you by the grace of the gods,” as the priests say.

There are a variety of Callings, but most common people have equally common destinies. Fighters usually end up as soldiers or guards, and Handiworkers as carpenters or seamstresses. There are also some more exciting possibilities, however.

Everyone knows the stories of commoners becoming aristocrats or even monarchs. Most kids I know had dreamed of that at some point in their life. Eventually, however, we all realized that it’s exceedingly rare to get a Calling different from those of your parents.

As the son of two Handiworkers, I was certain this would be my destiny as well. And it was. Just not in a way I could’ve ever anticipated.

***

I was standing in front of the temple. A large, stark white building at the center of town, that you could see from all the way down the main street, at the town gates at the south wall.

It took me a while to get here from our house at the outskirts of town, but as far as I was concerned, this was preferable to living closer to the center. Nobody I knew would ever be able to afford more than a small flat there. I had been lucky to have lived my entire life in a single-family house, with an entire room to myself.

When my father was still alive, he made good money working as a carpenter for the aristocracy, which had allowed my parents to afford our home. Nowadays, with only my mother and me, we were able to get by, but I was hoping to change that. When I would finally get my Calling, I would be able to properly contribute. With this thought, I entered the temple through large double doors, easily twice my height.

I walked into the reception area, with an archway on both the left and the right of the room that led deeper into the temple. A man in a white robe stood behind a counter and was waiting for me to come closer.

“Good Morning, young man. Ritual?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“To your right. We don’t have many candidates this year, so you won’t have to wait long until we call your name.”

“Thank you.”

Entering the other room, I saw about thirty people who appeared to be waiting already. The rituals would start at noon and I guessed I had been the last one to arrive.

I recognized a few of the faces here. Some neighbors I had played with when I was younger and people I met in class, when I had learned basic reading and writing years ago. There were also some considerably more well dressed men and women, who didn’t seem too pleased to be in one room with commoners.

I greeted a few of the others and then waited, staring at one of the doors at the farside of the room. The door to the ritual room, with a guard stationed on either side.

I had visited the temple in the past, as the school was here, but the only time anyone was allowed inside that room was during their Calling ritual. After a little while, a priest appeared from inside and started calling people in. They would enter, the door closed, and a minute later they came back out, with the brightest smiles I had ever seen on anyone’s face.

When you asked people what the ritual was like, they described it as a rush. Feelings of power, knowledge, and purpose flowing into you, even for the most mundane of Callings.

My mother had described it slightly differently. She said she had felt like another person’s memories had entered her mind. From one moment to the next, she knew things she had never heard about before and was able to do things she had never done. She felt as if she had been alive longer than she really had. That last part, she said, was why this is where you truly came of age. You feel differently, you act differently. You become an adult.

“Tomar Remor.”

A priest called my name, this was it.

***

Walking past a few others who were still waiting and a few who were still talking with their friends about their Calling, I made my way over to the priest, as I overheard some of the chatter.

“It was amazing! There was a bright, blue light and suddenly I felt like I had been a soldier for decades!”

“I saw a figure of white light appear in the air above my head! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

I arrived at the door to the ritual room and the priest motioned for me to go inside. It was a mostly barren room, with very few decorations and almost no furniture, aside from the unmoving guards on either side of the now closed door, mirroring their colleagues, that guarded the chamber from the outside.

In the center of the room was a circular platform with scripture sigils painted on it, the platform sticking out of the floor slightly. Behind it was an altar with several stacks of papers and files on it, writing utensils, and a bowl that held white stones.

As I got closer, I saw my name on a piece of paper on the altar. Papers from the Registration Agency, which recorded every citizen and their Callings.

“Please wait a moment,” the priest instructed.

He walked past me, around the platform, and stopped in front of the altar. He took one of the stones out of the bowl and put it onto the platform.

“Please step into the marked area and stand still.”

I looked from him to the platform, stepped onto it, and waited as instructed. I didn’t see or feel anything at first, until, for a split second, there was a sharp pain in my head.

‘Huh?’

My eyes widened. Is this...!?

‘What is going on...?’

Oh no... no no no no!

With a slight panic in my eyes I looked at the priest, who appeared to assume the ritual was over, as he stepped closer.

“I didn’t notice any signs indicating what Calling you received, but the shard has disappeared and the look on your face tells me the ritual is over. Please tell me the Calling the gods saw fit to bestow upon you.”

I didn’t know what to do. If I told him what had just happened, I would be in trouble. But there hadn’t been a sign. There are no known Callings without one. Wait... there was no sign at all?

‘Hello!?’

First and foremost, I had to get out of this room. I looked at the priest and did my best to act confused.

“I don’t feel any different. I... know something is supposed to happen after just a moment, so I was surprised when it didn’t. W-was the ritual really a success?” I stumbled over my words slightly.

The priest furrowed his brows and looked me up and down. This was not supposed to happen. As far as I knew, this had never happened. I didn’t know what he would do now, about a “failed” ritual, but it couldn’t be worse than the alternative.

“You don’t feel anything at all? I find that hard to believe. Your Calling becomes a part of yourself, like finding true purpose for the first time in your life. It was a revelation to anyone I ever administered this ritual to, as was it for myself.”

It was to be expected that he wouldn’t just believe me, but his reaction was still friendly enough. More curious than inquisitive. I might have a chance.

“I have read a little bit about the ritual. The books said there would be a divine sign indicating my Calling, but I didn’t see anything. Was that normal, father?” I switched from confusion to worry. “Did I not receive a Calling? Will I not be able to help out my mother now!?”

At this, he visibly relaxed, as he placed his hand on my shoulder and tried to calm me.

“Please don’t worry. There is not a person in the world without a Calling, and you will receive one as well. Say, are you certain you are of age?”

A mistake... is this the conclusion he had come to? Once you’re of age, you receive your Calling... if you’re not of age, you don’t. He thinks I’m too young!

“My last birthday was in spring, father. It was supposed to have been my fifteenth. Do you think my parents made a mistake?”

“That would appear to be the case, otherwise the ritual could not have failed. Unfortunately, this means you will not receive your Calling just yet. It will apparently take a while longer. I would advise you to talk to your parents. They need to visit the registration office to correct your birth data immediately, as it’s illegal to provide incorrect information.”

I lowered my head and nodded. “Thank you, father.”

As he walked over to the door, I turned around and stepped off the platform.

“Have a good day. I’ll see you again once you are of age,” he said and opened the door for me. I walked out of the room, past the guards and the other candidates, and left the temple as fast as I could.

‘What the ****!?’

***

My mind was racing. I had received my Calling. The one truly problematic Calling in the world. What do I do...?

By a stroke of luck I had made it out of the temple. The priest believed in an error, but this would not hold up to scrutiny. He didn’t know me, but others did. And a lot of them knew my true age, having known me since birth.

Providing incorrect information to the authorities was not just frowned upon, it was illegal and came with harsh punishments if done on purpose. And people who knew about such lies might be seen as accessories. I would get reported as soon as anyone found out.

I made my way across the main square, in the direction of my home, but I didn’t make it far before I ducked into an alleyway and sat down on the floor, leaning against a wall.

‘Hey! Can anyone hear me!?’

There’s the headache again...

I was at a loss what to do. I was supposed to receive my Calling and start my life as an adult today. Instead, I got a death sentence. I got out of the temple somehow, but that didn’t matter much.

After a few minutes of sitting there, I stood back up and left the alley. I have to tell Mother. She was waiting for me, and my only hope now was that she would have some idea that would save me.

I walked slowly down the main street, eventually going down a winding side street, up to our house in the southeastern part of town. With how slow I went, it took me twice as long as usual to arrive home, the small wooden building my late father had built for our family. After taking a deep breath, I opened the front door and stepped inside.

“... I’m back.”

“Tomar!”

My mother came out of the kitchen, a bright smile on her face. She had been even more curious than me about what Calling I would receive. But when she saw the look on my face, her own expression changed to one of worry.

“Tomar? What’s wrong?”

“...”

“What happened? Please talk to me.”

“I... I received the Mad Calling, mom.”

Silence. My mother just stood there, staring at me with wide eyes and open lips for what felt like an eternity. She lowered her head and stared at the floor, clearly at a loss what to say. Eventually, she looked at me again, confusion in her eyes.

“... how are you still alive?”

It hadn’t even been an hour since the ritual, but it felt like an eternity had passed, while I had walked home in a daze. I recalled what had happened.

“There was no visible sign during the ritual... the priest thought there had been a mistake. That I had been too young, and that the ritual had failed because of that. I just... left.”

My mother thought my words over. The Mad Calling had been something I was scared of as a kid, but my mother had always assured me that I wouldn’t receive it. That there hadn’t been a Mad One in our town for a hundred years, with some people going so far as to say that it’s just stories. But she knew that it was a possibility. Everyone knew.

“No sign?” she finally said. “But if you received that Calling, you would’ve become mad! That would’ve been the sign! Maybe you didn’t actually—”

“Mom... I’m hearing a voice in my head...”

Just as my mother became quiet again, there was a sharp pain in my head.

‘You can hear me!? Please talk to me, what is going on here!?’

“I don’t know why I’m not going crazy right now... but I’m sure.”

The telltale signs of the Mad Calling are strong headaches and hearing voices in your head that nobody else can hear. They’re said to drive you mad in a matter of seconds, making you a danger to others, as you lash out against anything and everything in sight, in the futile attempt to make the voices stop.

“What is the voice saying?”, my mother asked.

“He seems confused... he’s asking what’s going on.”

‘Damn right I’m confused! Why are you ignoring me!?”

My mother came closer and looked me in the eyes, as if searching for something.

“Are you still my Tomar?”

Her question stunned me for a moment. I was having headaches... I was hearing a voice... but I wasn’t going crazy. And I hadn’t changed at all. Based on everything I knew I should’ve changed somehow. I was also fairly certain this had to be the Mad Calling, but I felt mostly fine.

“I think I am. I feel like myself, I’m just—”

‘Talk to me!!’

“Hearing that voice. And every time he speaks I feel a sharp pain in my head. Mom, what am I to do now...?”

At this, my mother fell into thought. It appeared that the initial shock of me not being dead after receiving this Calling was starting to fade, and the question of “what now” was entering her mind.

“The priest will report the failed ritual to the authorities,” she said. “Once that happens, they will come to us for confirmation. We can’t fake your age, our neighbors know how old you are. You played with their children when you were young.”

The priest would report the failed ritual. I hadn’t thought about that possibility. I figured we would have time to come up with some plan, but if the priest was going to report this, the authorities would come to see us soon, wouldn’t they?

“Right... the priest will report it...” I said, crestfallen.

What would happen to me? What if the books were wrong and it might just take a few hours for me to go mad? What if there was some kind of test they could do? Would they just kill me on the spot once they knew? Would they lock me away? Various scenarios ran through my mind until my mother broke my train of thought, with an expression of curiosity on her face.

“The voice,” she started.

“Hm?”

“Have you tried talking to it?”

“...”

I hadn’t. It hadn’t even occurred to me. The voice was trying to talk to me, but my mind was occupied with trying to come to terms with my life being over and what would come next. Would talking to it be safe?

“You think I should talk to the voice? But... what if that’s what drives people insane?”

My mother always had a curious streak. Father had been laid back and didn’t care much about anything outside of work, while I was the shy and careful type. Mother on the other hand would openly embrace anything new with an open mind and encourage me to do so as well. But this seemed like an unnecessary risk.

“You hear it, you understand it, and you acknowledge it. If it was going to drive you insane, would it not have happened by now?”

She usually turned out to be right when she started asking me questions like that. But the thought of something bad happening still terrified me.

“Can the voice hear me?” she asked.

‘Yes! I can!’

“... it says yes.”

“Would you let me ask it something?”

Nothing had happened so far. She was right, I was already acknowledging the voice. And just now I had essentially interacted with it, by forwarding what it had said to my mother. It should be fine... right?

“... okay.”

I didn’t know how my mother could think about talking with the voice in my head right now, while I was scared for my life, but I trusted her. She wouldn’t do this for no reason. I think...

“Hello, Voice.”

‘Hello!’

“It says ‘Hello.’”

“Do you have a name?”

“‘My name is Miles! What’s going on here?’” I repeated what the voice said.

“It has a name,” my mother said, amazed. “Do you know what you are?”

“‘I’m—,’” the voice stopped for a moment before continuing. “‘What do you mean what I am?’”

“You’re a Calling. The Mad Calling.”

“‘I don’t know what that means,’” the voice said through me.

“A Calling is a gift, granted by the gods to people after they come of age. At least that’s how it’s supposed to work. You’re my son’s Calling.”

“‘A gift? I’m a human being! Why would I be inside some kid!?’”

My mother and I stared at each other wide-eyed. This voice was either delusional or it wasn’t just some voice. I didn’t know what to think, but I started to believe that it would be okay to at least talk to it. My mother looked at me encouragingly.

“Voice,” I said. “Earlier I attended my Calling ritual. It’s supposed to reveal your purpose in the world to you and grant you the necessary tools to fulfill that purpose. But I received the Mad Calling, a voice in my head. You.

“All the stories I read say that this was supposed to drive me insane, that I would lash out at others, that I would be dangerous. And that Mad Ones would be killed on the spot, because there’s no coming back from it.”

The voice was silent for a moment, possibly thinking about what I had just said. If it was truly a human being, how could it end up in someone’s head? And why was I still fine?

“‘Can you remove this Calling? Can I get out of here?’” the voice finally asked.

My mother and I clearly weren’t sure how to respond. You don’t remove Callings, they are a part of you. The idea seemed absurd, but the question would make sense from the viewpoint of a sentient being stuck inside someone else.

“No, Voice. Or rather, it’s Miles, right?” my mother said. “A Calling is a part of you. It’s not something that can be removed, it’s like your ability to think or laugh. It’s just there.”

“‘You can’t be serious. What am I supposed to do? Ride shotgun in this boy for the rest of my life? ... for the rest of his life!? Wait. You said this isn’t normal! A Calling isn’t supposed to be a human. Maybe you can get me out of here! You said this Calling is a problem, just get me out and you’re good!’”

Miles wasn’t wrong. If there was a way to remove a Calling, wouldn’t that solve everything? The ritual isn’t supposed to fail, granted, but if I could remove my Calling and then just get a new one at the temple, a normal one, I would be in the clear.

“But I don’t know where I would even start,” I said. “There is no Calling removal ritual. I’ve never read anything about removing Callings. Like Mother said, it’s not something that you can just remove. We would have to go back to the temple and talk to the priests... but that’s way too risky.”

‘Because you think they will just kill you? Come on, you’re obviously fine! Why would they hurt you? Just explain the situation!’

“And what if that doesn’t work out? Then I’m dead!”

‘And if you don’t do anything I’ll be stuck in here!! This can’t be my life!’

“I’m not thrilled about it either, but what am I supposed to do!?”

“Tomar,” my mother interjected. “What is he saying?”

“He wants me to kill myself!”

‘I just want to get out of here! If talking to the priest is the only way, that’s what we’ll do!’

“I won’t just walk into the temple and tell them I have the Mad Calling!!”

“Boys, please calm down,” my mother said. “Miles, there might be answers in the temple, but it’s risky. We don’t know what they’ll do when they hear about this. As fascinating as I find you and this situation, the Mad Calling is typically a death sentence. I can guarantee that, at the very least, Tomar would get locked up. They would ensure he can’t hurt anyone once he goes insane. But in the worst case, they’ll strike him down immediately. That wouldn’t be in your best interest either.”

“‘I might die as well...’”

“That’s right,” my mother said.

“‘Fuck me... what then? What’s the plan?’”

“I’m sorry, but getting you out will have to wait. We have a more immediate problem. The priest will notify the authorities about the failed ritual. He believes Tomar wasn’t actually of age yet, but that explanation won’t hold up. We’ll need a better one before they come knocking. Unfortunately, talking to you didn’t bring us any new insights.”

She had wanted to talk to him to get more information, while I was still frozen. Confused and scared. I’m so glad she’s the one still with me. Sorry, dad.

My mother motioned me into the kitchen and we sat down at the dinner table. I didn’t know how much time we had, but we would have to do something soon. To the best of my knowledge, there had never been anyone without a Calling. Every single citizen is registered at birth, and every one is called to the temple for the ritual, in the summer after coming of age. You can’t not have a Calling... right?

Nobody would skip their ritual, that would make absolutely no sense. You need it to get a job, which every citizen of age is required to have, as declared by the authorities. But I actually didn’t know what would happen if you tried to avoid receiving your Calling.

Regardless, I had gone to the temple and attended the ritual. There was no changing that. But how would I explain myself to the registration office?

‘Hey.’

I was startled by the sudden pain and voice in my head interrupting my thoughts. This will take some getting used to.

‘Can’t you just skip town?’

“I’m trying to not die here, Miles!” I said with a mix of confusion and anger in my voice.

I noticed my mother’s gaze at my sudden outburst.

“He’s saying I should leave town.”

At this, my mother’s curiosity appeared to flare up once again. But why? Oh. He doesn’t know.

“You don’t know about the beasts, do you?” I asked.

***

Miles appeared to know nothing about the world. He asked question after question, but was reluctant to answer any himself. He didn’t know about the beasts that roamed the Wildlands, that nobody would be crazy enough to leave town without guards. He didn’t know that the next town was three days away, and that you would inevitably face something that would kill you in the blink of an eye. Especially at night.

He didn’t seem to know where we were, or when we were. Even the fact that noon was at eight o’clock appeared to confuse him. He seemed like a small child, knowing nothing and being eager for information. As we explained to him the most common knowledge, he and my mother seemed to be going along well, while I was mostly sitting there, parroting everything he was saying in my head.

“‘So he can’t go to the temple, because they would kill him. He can’t leave town, because monsters would kill him. And he can’t stay here, because they will come for him, and then kill him.

“‘But why is this Calling such a problem? I understand that they don’t want people to go berserk, but Tomar is fine, right? It should be obvious that they don’t need to kill him. At least not before they’re sure he’s a danger to anyone.’”

“People don’t like talking about the Mad Calling,” Mother responded, “but it’s said that those who receive it are not only confused, they are also much stronger than your average knight. If you don’t put them down with force, or you let them escape, gods forbid, they kill everyone in sight. One story speaks of a Mad One destroying an entire town.

“Normal people would believe you’re joking if you told them you had this Calling, but the authorities would be scared for themselves and their citizens. And I worry they would be even more careful if you aren’t acting crazy. If one crazy person can destroy a town, what could a sane person with the same power do?”

“‘Okay, how about faking a different Calling? The priest didn’t see a sign or whatever, so let’s say he hadn’t paid attention.’”

“Tomar would have to prove he received the fake Calling in that case. There is no Calling you can fake easily. The gods grant you more knowledge about your destined profession than you could ever hope to learn until you come of age.”

That’s why most people don’t bother to learn much until they have their ritual, aside from reading, writing, and everyday skills. You receive all the knowledge you need during the ritual.

“‘Hm.’”

Miles appeared to think over what my mother had said. I just wished he didn’t have to give me a headache for just a “Hm,” but he didn’t seem to care much when I told him so.

“‘Do you know what a computer is?’” he asked after a moment.

“No, I don’t,” my mother said.

This was the first time he had said a word I didn’t know. I hadn’t received a real Calling, so I was limited to everything I had seen, heard, and read during my life, but my mother was very knowledgeable. It was rare for her to not know something. I had always assumed that she had received a very powerful Calling, even if it was just a Handiworking one.

“‘Right. Didn’t think so.’”

“What is it? Can it help me?” I asked.

“‘It could if you knew what it was, but based on what I’ve seen of this place through your eyes so far, that probably won’t work.’”

It appeared that Miles was able to see and hear everything I saw and heard, but other than that, he was just a voice in my head. I wonder what it feels like to not have a body.

He was clearly trying to come up with a solution. As was my mother, sitting across from me at the table. I was mostly busy speaking for him. As he had learned more, he started asking more and more very pointed questions. I felt like he was thinking similarly to my mother, and I was hoping the two of them would come up with an idea.

“‘Do you have a merchant Calling or something? One for bankers, or architects? Anything heavy in math?’”

“There are some options,” my mother mused. “Can you handle it?”

“‘It depends. I would have to know what the test would look like, what the exact requirements are.’”

Was I missing something here? During my parroting I must've stopped paying attention somewhere along the line, because I wasn’t sure where exactly these two were going with this.

My mother stood up and walked over to the cabinet she stored her writing utensils in. She took a quill, a jar with ink, and a piece of paper and placed them on the table before starting to write numbers on the sheet. After a few lines, she pushed the paper across the table for me to look at.

“...”

I stared blankly at the paper. My mother knew I didn’t know the kind of math she had written down, and Miles appeared to know only what we taught him. Even if he turned out to be intelligent, he wouldn’t suddenly—

“‘I think we can work with this.’”

“You understand that?” I asked bewildered, as my mother beamed at me. Or maybe at Miles?

“‘Kind of. I recognize the formulas, but I don’t know these numbers. Could you write down all the base numbers?’”

What’s a base number?

My mother appeared to mull over his question for a moment, before realizing what Miles was referring to. She pushed the ink jar and the quill across the table.

“Tomar, write down the numbers from 0 to 7.”

I could do that much, and I did as instructed. After I was done I looked back at my mother, only to be admonished by Miles.

‘Keep looking at the paper!’

I let out a slight grumble. As I lowered my head again, I pondered. If he was able to understand this, would we be able to fake a Calling that incorporated a lot of math? Even then, would that be enough? After a few moments, and for the first time, I heard Miles laughing in my head. Weirdly enough, the pain was much more bearable than before.

“‘Hahaha, octal? This is amazing. Tomar, write down what I’m telling you to.’”

Once more, I did as instructed. I added a few lines below what my mother and I had written down before. He was dictating calculations to me that I had never seen before. Then I pushed the paper over to my mother at Miles’ request. She looked over the paper and smiled.

“I don’t recognize some of these formulas. You know more than me!” my mother cheered. I was stunned.

“‘Alright, what can we do with this?’”

“I have an idea,” my mother said. “One of our neighbors is a statistician for the authorities. Apparently he does nothing but solve equations at work. His wife always complains that it’s all he ever talks about. Do you think you can handle this?”

“‘It would be good if I had a few hours to get used to this number system, and I need some more information. After that, yes.’”

“Our neighbor, Gean, should be home in about an hour,” my mother said. “I will talk to him and try to pry him for information. I will reveal that something went wrong with Tomar’s ritual, but that he came home with an unusual amount of knowledge about math. If he’s willing to show me some of his work, I believe we’ll know what they will test you for if we claim Tomar to be a statistician.”

‘Statisticians. In this place. Seriously?’ Miles mumbled.

Comment on this paragraph“What’s a statistician?” I mumbled in turn.

Gean’s family lived a few houses up the street and Mother had left early to talk to him as soon as he came home. In the meantime, I was still sitting at the table, staring at several pieces of paper that were now filled with numbers, tables, and calculations. Miles had said he needed to get used to this number system, but I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. As I started to relax ever so slightly, I finally decided to ask him. “Miles, what is octal?”

‘Not-decimal,’ he responded curtly, before returning to whatever he was doing in my head. Occasionally he would mumble something, or repeat number sequences like a mantra.

‘11467, 11470, 61, 4012—’

“Will this really work?” I asked.

Miles let out an audible sigh. ‘Listen, I’m not used to calculating in octal. I can do it if you let me practice, and your mother is optimistic that it will be enough. But I need some time.’

I stopped and let him continue until I heard the front door open just a few minutes later and my mother came walking into the kitchen. Right behind her was our neighbor Gean.

“Hello, Tomar! It’s good to see you,” he said in an excited voice.

Mother had told us that he was obsessed with his job, and that he didn’t have anyone to talk shop to, to the dismay of his wife. When my mother went over there, all she had wanted was information. However, with how Gean acted, I guessed he wanted to see me for himself. Maybe hoping to have found a kindred spirit.

‘Too early... This was not the plan, Tomar’s mom...’

She looked at me with an apologetic face, accompanied with a hint of worry in her eyes. Miles had mentioned needing several hours for preparation, but it had barely been one.

Gean sat down on the chair to my left and looked at me. “Another statistician. You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve waited for this day, Tomar. Did you know I’ve been the only one in this town for the past twenty years?”

“No, sir,” I said. Gean and his wife didn’t have any kids, so I hadn’t interacted much with him. At least outside of greeting him in passing.

“Alright, let’s get right down to business!” he exclaimed and his expression shifted. He had a sharp glint in his eyes. “What’s 42776 divided by 32?”

‘Something isn’t right,’ Miles said, sounding alarmed.

I looked from Gean to the papers still on the table. Am I supposed to—

‘No, look him straight in the eyes. Don’t waver, act normal.’

I didn’t understand what was going on. Miles was worried about something, and I couldn’t see my mother behind me, but she was squeezing my shoulders with her hands.

‘Say “1261.”’

Gean’s brow twitched at my response, barely noticeable. “Accuracy is important. Another try?”

‘Oh, come on! Stupid little...’ Mileys said exasperated. ‘Okay, “1261.11.” No, wait! “1261.12,” go.’

I repeated the last number Miles had told me and Gean gave me a nod. “Acceptable.” He then took one of the pieces of paper that Miles and I had written out calculations on and added several formulas similar to the ones that were already there. Then he put the paper down in front of me and asked me to solve them.

The answers appeared to come relatively easily to Miles and I wrote them down one after the other. Gean took the sheet back and looked it over. Apparently satisfied, he then grabbed the quill once more, to write down a formula that included characters I had never seen before.

“Please solve this for me and you pass.”

‘Is this the test...?’ Miles asked in surprise.

I stared at the formula and waited for him to tell me what to do. As I looked at it, I did recognize some of the characters after all. The scripture. What does this have to do with math?

Furrowing my brows despite me, I sat in silence for several seconds, before Miles spoke up again.

‘Tell him you don’t know how to solve it.’

My eyes widened. What? Gean said I have to solve this to pass. Unable to speak up, to ask Miles if he was serious, I kept staring at the paper withouting moving a muscle.

‘Trust me. Tell him, Tomar,’ Miles said.

“I... I don’t know how to solve this.” I said finally, without taking my eyes off the formula. I didn’t dare look at Gean until my mother let go of my shoulders and I felt another hand slap me on the back. I looked up at Gean's face. There was a friendly smile on it.

“Very good, boy,” Gean said. He stood up and looked down at me. “You will make a fine statistician. I’m looking forward to working with you. Come to the office next week.” He gave my mother a paper slip, said his goodbye, and left our home as quickly as he had entered it.

I got up and turned to my mother, who embraced me in a hug. “Mom, Miles. What just happened?”

***

Mother and I were standing in front of an office building that we had just exited, close to the temple in the town’s main square. After Gean had left the house, my mother had hurried me to the Registration Agency to update my citizen information. My new Calling had been added, and I was now officially a Researcher.

My mother hadn’t known this, but apparently Gean was not only a statistician, but also the town’s Determiner. The person responsible for resolving any issues with the records, particularly issues related to Callings, rare as these issues might be.

When she told him about the supposed failed ritual and her suspicion that I had become a statistician, she had effectively expedited the test that would’ve otherwise come in a day or two, after the rituals were over and we had announced our suspicion to the authorities.

He had told my mother in no uncertain terms that he would administer a test immediately, to confirm her claims that me having received a Researcher Calling had slipped past the priest. She would also not be allowed to interfere or inform me about what was to happen. But Miles had picked up on something being off about Gean and the way he carried himself. It appeared that I had passed the test.

As we made our way across the main square, my mother spoke up with sadness in her voice. “I’m sorry, Tomar. I didn’t know,” she said, followed by a hushed “You too, Miles.”

She must’ve been just as scared as I had been, and she jumped at the first chance that presented itself. She had done her best to help me. I could hardly blame her for that.

“It’s fine, mom. I’m just glad it worked out.”

My calling had been registered, by the authority of the Determiner, who had administered the test. The paper slip he had given my mother had been the written confirmation of our claims. With this done, I would be fine for the moment.

Citizens were expected to start working within two weeks of receiving their Calling, and Gean had invited me to work with him, but I could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

It was getting late by this point and my mother stopped, to look in the direction of the market, situated in the streets west of the main square.

“I will buy a few things for dinner, you go on ahead and relax,” she said. “We have a few days to decide our next steps now.”

I nodded and watched her walk off before making my way to the main street, once again heading back home. There were a lot of people bustling around at this time of day. Closing up shops, going home from work, or heading out for night shifts.

“Hey, Miles,” I said under my breath, so nobody would hear me talking to myself. “Where did you learn all that?”

‘Let’s just say I have a Researcher Calling myself.’

“My Calling has a Calling?”

‘Heh, something like that.’

Slendering down the street, I finally had the peace of mind to ask Miles about the test. I had learned some basic math, and sometimes I saw Mother calculate things, but that last formula had looked weird. I was admittedly curious how that scribbling related to math.

“What was that last formula Gean gave me? Why were there scripture sigils in it?”

‘What? You know what that was?’

“Well, kind of. You don’t? Did you truly not know how to solve it?”

Miles was silent for a moment. It appeared that I hadn’t been supposed to solve it, but I assumed Miles would’ve been able to. Was it just dumb luck that I passed the test?

‘That’s not it. I could’ve solved it, but—’ He paused before continuing. ‘Shit, we got lucky there. How do you know these “sigils?”’

“They’re on the water sources. Oh, and on the ritual platform. That’s the only places I’ve ever seen them.”

‘Water source? Like a well?’

“No, a water source.”

‘...’

“...”

‘Can you show me?’

“Can’t I go home for now? I’m really tired. I have to get water in the morning anyway. I’ll show you then, okay?”

‘Hm. Alright.’

Miles seemed a little disappointed, but I was truly exhausted. I had gotten up at the break of dawn, did most of my chores, and hurried to receive my Calling, just to end up fearing for my life and being tense all afternoon. Not to mention having walked across town four times.

Still, I was looking forward to tomorrow morning. Miles clearly knew something about the sigils. Everyone knew of them, but I had never assumed that they meant anything. That’s also what my mother had said. They looked like glorified scribbling to me, like decoration. But before today I had only ever seen them on water sources. They were on the ritual platform though... Did they have a meaning?

***

A priest in white robes was standing in front of a desk inside an office. Across the desk sat a man in his early fifties. He wore a stern expression, as he updated files of citizens after today’s Calling rituals.

The man paused and put down his quill. “There was no sign at all?”

“No, sir. I am certain,” the priest said.

The man furrowed his brows as he looked down at one particular piece of paper.

Name: Tomar Remor

Parents: Leander and Phiona Remor

Birth: Spring 3006

Calling: Researcher (Determined)

“Was I mistaken, sir?” the priest asked carefully.

“It appears so, but the matter has been resolved. There won’t be any repercussions. You may leave.”

The priest let out a sigh of relief and relaxed at the man’s words. “Thank you, sir.” He bowed slightly and left the office.

Now alone in the room, the man picked his quill back up and added more notes to the record, about a failed ritual that had resolved itself. “Interesting,” he murmured.