by Harlon Banks
Neither would he forget the experience that followed after...
Jonath just happened to see that Liariana girl standing by herself a bit away from the group eyes closed, arms crossed and resting her backside against a small decorative stone pillar. She clearly didn't seem like the talkative type, or the friendly type in general. Then again neither did Jonath; he didn't know why he was staring at her... maybe he was annoyed by all that dramatic cryptic attitude Dal threw her way for no reason like she was some legendary hot-shot or something. What did they call that? Hype? Is a Yelkath really worth all the exasperated hype the blue-haired chick put into her?
Liariana's scarlet eyes opened up and immediately locked on Jonath's; as if she knew exactly where he was and that he'd been staring at her. However surprisingly Jonath showed no distress when she met his gaze. The two simply staring unmoved at one another with two similar yet distinct facial expressions. Jonath having one of casual calmness and indifference versus Liariana's gaze of hollow emptiness as if she were looking at him but wasn't actually focused on him. It was kind of unnerving despite his façade of keeping a blank face, so Jonath bit the bullet and broke eye contact right as a masculine and baritone voice boomed through the night air from behind the fountain. The sound causing the small group of people of various shapes and sizes to look up as a figure moved around the fountain walking along the rim of its basin eloquently.
"Good eternal evening to you all! Welcome to the Archives Group!" The robed in white with decorative red and black swirled hooded man greeted the group. Jonath glancing over his shoulder at Dal and Kelarin dismissing the ones who weren't accepted with a narrowed gaze. Was rather odd that he was allowed entry for this job despite not showing anything worth taking. Maybe Kelarin begged Dal to let him get accepted or Dal actually got him in on the down low like she implied yesterday. A snort leaving his nostrils as he turned back to look at the new arrival right as the robed man's bony white hands pulled back his hood. He was an older gentleman, easily older looking than Jeremy appearing around seventy years old with narrow facial features. His hair was neck length and a dirty grey color; matted as if he'd just got into a fight with a shrub. His skin was both porcelain white, even paler than Jonath's and heavily wrinkled with body thinly frail. His facial hair consisting of a small beard and a pair of dull brown eyes with a scar running across the bridge of his thin nose.
He looked as if he'd taken a nasty slash to the face in his youth... Certainly didn't help him keep a friendly appearance.
"You all, fifteen in total, have been hand-picked from the common rabble to enrich your lives and futures by assisting us with securing the most powerful thing in existence!" The man reached a bony left hand up to tap at his temple as lips thinned into an unseemly smile that made Jonath feel a bit uneasy. "Knowledge! Beautiful knowledge!" The man chuckled raspily. If Jonath could describe him in one word it'd probably be 'creep'. Hands raising to hook behind his head again like a pillow he idled and listened attentively with the small group around him. Occasionally glancing back over to that Yelkath girl gauging her own reactions to what was said.
"My name is Wren. I am the leader of the Archives Group and the one who personally put out this request for you brave young warriors to partake in. It is a humble honor to see such vibrant young heroes come to aid my Group in our time of need." Wren outstretched his hands now balancing on the rim of the fountain basin effortlessly and facing the group below.
"Oh great he sounds like a cliché wizard..." Jonath thought to himself with an eye roll. Pale eyes focusing back on Wren with a growing disinterest in their gaze.
"This mission is a tad more dangerous than the usual contracts we give out, thus the government has asked us to upon selecting at least fifteen candidates to evaluate their combat abilities both physical and aetherial. You all are Nightborn yes?" Wren's smile turned into a calm and serene expression as his eyes wandered over the people before him like a fisherman eyeing a net full of fish. "Sure we have written resume of your powers and histories for reference but there's nothing like hands on experience for verification you know?" He mused.
His eyes stopping on Jonath. The amnesic caught off guard with the stare given to him and felt as if paralyzed with surprise. As soon a Wren and Jonath had full eye contact, Wren went on to look at the next person to his right. However that feeling Jonath felt at that moment didn't fade away, and it sifted in the back of his head. Eyes narrowing a bit in deep thought yet saying not doing anything outwardly about it. Maybe he was just being paranoid about having a first job after waking up out in the middle of nowhere. Yeah, that was probably the case.
"I don't like the vibe this guy gives off..."
Those words floated through Jonath's head; his psyche voicing to himself the words he didn't bother saying aloud. Wren's smile returned, thin and dry lips curving upwards at their corners as his dull eyes viewed everyone as a whole now and his arms outstretched again in a welcoming fashion.
"Do not worry, there won't be any battling going on to weed you all out. I merely must take a look at you up close and think you worthy or unworthy of participating in this endeavor! Now then... Let us begin, shall we?" The robed man said calm and casual as he floated off the rim of the fountain and landed on the concrete without a sound emanating from his person. Right hand raised and palm opened facing the ground as he held it before him in a beckoning motion. The cool night air becoming rustled by a soft teal energy swirling around the courtyard that focused from Wren's hand.
"Form a line please. I shall judge your prowess and say yay, or nay." He smiled.
Weed Out the Weak!
The Challenger Chapter Nine - Weed Out the Weak
"Form a line, huh?" Jonath mused over the words with a furrowed brow and a roll of his shoulders. Canting his head left and right watching the others do as they were told. Pale hued gaze periodically looking back up to Wren and his dull brown eyes that looked as if they were deadened. That scar across the bridge of Wren's nose diverting any attention from the rest of his milky white face towards it; had to be a bit annoying to have such a prominent thing scarring ones face. Mouth opening unintentionally as another yawn left his throat Jonath cursed something beneath his breath and moved to get in line as well. Of the fifteen or so candidates he was the tenth in line, right behind that Liariana woman. The Yelkath foreigner that Dal seemed to be head over heels for.
She was taller up close than he imagined, Jonath blatantly staring at the back of her head comparing herself to his own height and Dal's. She was slightly taller than the latter, but still shorter than him; the top of her head coming to right around the bridge of his own nose. She was still taller than the five other women in line here that Jonath hardly seemed to pay any attention to. Looking away from Liariana who didn't once even seem to acknowledge Jonath standing behind her and continued to stare blankly ahead like some drone; Jonath himself simply glanced off to the side on his left with another yawn. A low growl escaping his mouth now visibly irritated by the fact he kept fucking yawning for no clear reason.
"Nay. You won't do." Wren's rushed voice interrupted Jonath's self irritation.
Jonath turned to look straight ahead as Wren denied participation to the first person in the line. An older woman with black hair and dark skin who was slightly overweight. The woman looking a bit distraught at being denied, Wren withdrawing his open right hand from her forehead as they slid back into the confines of his robe. Listening attentively to the woman begin to demand him for a reason why she was denied, a simple pause and a clear of the throat and Wren replied in what perhaps was the most calm yet disappointed tone Jonath had ever heard...
"You'd die. I have sensed it in your soul. Exceptionally easy at that... I can't allow you to throw your life away in hopes of monetary gain. I apologize ma'am, maybe next time?" Wren said condescending while nodding off to the side towards the entrance she came through dismissing her. The woman clearly holding up the line now expressing both frustration and denial that this man c
ould so easily brush her off and tell her basically to get lost. Jonath eye rolling to himself now annoyed.
"If this is going to happen multiple times I may as well walk out of line and go home." He whispered exasperated as he scratched the back of his spiky platinum silver hair. Sneering when the person behind him, an older gentleman with red hair, fair skin and chiselled features clad in crimson fabrics who was about a foot taller than Jonath was; agreed with the statement. Wren having grown tired of this woman's rebellion to his words sighed to himself and closed his eyes as she rambled on to the point she sounded as if she'd get violent. Before she could say anything else Wren's left hand shot out from his white robes once more and his index finger tapped her forehead; she dropped like a corpse immediately afterwards shocking everyone except Jonath and Liariana. The former merely chuckling cause he found that drastic reaction funny while the latter made no visible reaction whatsoever.
"If anyone else would like to express their disbelief at my decision you are free to do so, I won't stop you." Wren calmly spoke to everyone else in line as two students walked over to escort the unconscious woman away. "But do not hold up the line and waste my time. Time is knowledge yes? You are free to express disappointment, curse me out if you please but make it less than five seconds and move along. I don't like having to use my powers to knock delinquents unconscious. Next!" He wasted no time gesturing for the next person to step up and be judged like some holy priest. Jonath watching the woman get carried away without much else to say. Stepping forward a small space with the rest of the line as the next one was judged with a simple hand pressed against his forehead and a brief silence.
"Nay. Next!" Wren's words made Jonath blink and furrow a brow at him. That's two no's already... Out of fifteen people...
"Nay. Next!" Wren said to the third person in line. This was clearly not what anyone expected, three were denied already leaving only twelve left. Just how dangerous was this mission? What made this man capable of judging someone's worth through brief physical contact? What was even the requirements for undertaking this job?
"Nay. Next one!" Wren said yet again. Jonath couldn't help but start to feel a little anxiety within him. The way Wren was saying no to these participants probably augmented the negative reaction they had to him. He gave off the vibe as if he were calling them useless and to be tossed aside like petty trash. All of this displayed in his tone, quickness, and casual indifference to them muttering and showing distaste. He couldn't blame them, if someone were to just basically call him a waste of space with a tone like that he'd be a little more than annoyed too. Wren came off as a huge jackass, more so than he cared to probably admit.
"Nay. Next!" Wren said again... Jonath clenching his fists in his black jacket pockets trying to stop himself from shaking. Why was he suddenly nervous? As the line got shorter and shorter and the people who were denied took their leave a bit more than sour, Jonath couldn't stop subtly shivering now from anxiety he was confident he didn't have up until now. Why was he shaking? What was he so nervous about? Being told no? Why would he care if he was? Being embarrassed like the others for being denied? When did he care about what someone thought about him? No... It had to be something more... It had to be...
Maybe it was Wren himself that made Jonath uncomfortable? He recalled that unsettling brief eye contact they both had prior to the line assembling... That stare that made the amnesic tense up without even realizing...
Wren denied everyone up until it was Liariana's turn... She was the ninth in line, which means after her there were six left for a job that made it sound like it needed an entire army to complete. The quiet woman stepped forward with a calm empty gaze in her powerfully hued red eyes; their beauty accentuated by jet black bangs of hair parting down the center and framing both sides of her face all the way to the base of her neck where they ended. Her slightly longer than shoulder length hair shifting slightly from the oncoming night-time breeze that blew stray strands across an unblemished, symmetrical and pale face. Wren staring a bit more invested in her with a small creepy smile that was visibly apparent to Jonath which made him eye roll.
"Ahh... What do we have here?" Wren chuckled quietly while eyes hungrily looked over Liariana's figure admiring her perfection. From head to toe she was stunning to look at, something he rarely admitted to anyone. "Your attire is very interesting, are both of your arms so grievously injured that you wrapped them in bandages so completely from shoulder to tip of finger?" He inquired looking at both black bandage wrapped arms resting at Liariana's sides exposed by her sleeveless black shirt. The solemn looking woman turning her gaze upwards to meet the man's own in silence. The two staring at each other for several seconds, Wren taking the hint and waving dismissively.
"Ah, not much of a talker are you? Very well I understand I understand. Business only yes?" He outstretched his arms towards her and chuckled hiding away his right and resting his left on her forehead under the bangs of black hair. Liariana not doing anything at all, standing like a statue awaiting the verdict just as much as Jonath standing behind her was. It took a while longer for her to be judged, Wren's hand not leaving her forehead as quickly as with those before her. Jonath raising a brow in confusion, wondering why this was taking twice as long as with the others before his thoughts got interrupted by the sudden wide and toothy smile made by Wren and him quickly pulling his hand away from her forehead and sneering.
"Yes! We have a winner! You are accepted!" He exclaimed visibly happier than he ever was before. While Jonath couldn't really say he was surprised, half expected that girl to be accepted given the hype Dal did earlier; the five behind him weren't as expectant and the gasps of disbelief could be easily heard as well as the muttering. Liariana upon hearing the acceptance simply stepped out of line and went back to the decorative pillar she was near before the line formed and leaned against it once more with closed eyes and crossed arms. Jonath watching her walk away with no visible expression or glare, turning back to Wren and freezing up mentally when he saw that man's glare again. However this time the older man looked as if he was just finishing what he started by examining the rest... He didn't look expecting or anything. Even his tone following Liariana's departure from the line hinted he didn't really feel like examining anyone else, he had what he needed.
"Come along now let us hurry and finish what was started yes?" He quickly gestured for Jonath to step forward. The all black wearing amnesic hesitating a moment, forcing himself to stop shaking from anxiety as he stepped forward to right before Wren's taller sickly frail stature. The grey-haired Group master looking him over much less intensely than with Liariana as if he expected less. Well, Jonath wouldn't necessarily blame him if he did... He was nothing special and having even got this far was nothing short of luck. He was pretty sure he only got past the gates because Dal the other day basically promised him a spot since he protected Kelarin. Still...
Jonath did not like the vibe Wren gave off... It made him nauseous...
Wren's hand moved up to brush away the silver bangs of hair obscuring his forehead, Jonath instinctively pulled back his head at the start like some danger was clear which startled Wren slightly however he said nothing. Simply beckoning with fingers that Jonath return closer. The moonlight above gleaming off his hair, Jonath reluctantly leaned his head forward again and allowed the Group leader to press his palm against his forehead and judge his worth. Eyes closed and fists grabbing the inside of his jacket pockets as it took all he had to not start shivering again in anxiety. That brief contact felt like ages to him... wait...
It was ages... Wren had his hand against Jonath's head longer than he did with Liariana's... Then hi's eyes opened and that ecstatic look in them could only be...
"... You... !" Wren's tone was rather darkly gleeful. Jonath's soft pale eyes opening to look the man in the face as his forehead was still pressed under his palm. The two staring at each other closely with Jonath looking confused and wary, eyes narrowing in hesitation at that man's tone. "You..
. accepted!" The man removed his hand and smiled a bit too hard at the amnesic! "You are accepted! Rejoice! For your chance for glory is upon you!" Wren chuckled genuinely excited as he then looked to Liariana who was looking at Jonath with an unreadable expression once she heard the master say he was accepted. The five behind him muttering again in disbelief, the one who agreed with his comment earlier lightly tapping him on the shoulder in congratulations.
"Stand off to the side with the other one and I shall be with you shortly." Wren hurriedly moved Jonath out of line now quickly wanting to get this all over. Jonath himself was unsure how to feel about this... Why? Why was he accepted when people who clearly looked more capable than him weren't? What was the reason behind that twisted smile? Why was Jonath even still entertaining this assignment when he quite visibly showed he was uncomfortable with Wren's presence? As he walked towards where Liariana was the two made eye contact once more with neither saying anything to the other. The young man merely making his way to an adjacent side of the pillar from her and sitting down lamenting over his own thoughts while hearing Draven quite quickly dismiss the last five without a second thought.
