Young Writers Society

Mikhail was apprehensive.

Being around Sunestraka, no matter how placid he acted, was more then enough. He was almost faint with fear at the thought that soon, he’d be surrounded by possibly hundreds of these creatures. Could he take that? Mikhail wasn’t sure. But were they so different? He was reminded then, of his Examination. Every child of a certain age was examined by the Magisters for potential talent and the day had come for the orphanage to be checked.

Mikhail had watched as boy after boy left the room, dejected and miserable. They were all wearing the same uniform grey shorts and shirt. The time soon came for Mikhail to stand outside the plain, small door. He was shaking and scared. A voice, stern and cold, came through the wood. “Next.”

He walked forward, taking a deep breath before opening the door. Seated at a plain table was a thin, bald man. An amethyst was lodged in his skull, glowing with a swirling light that covered the walls. In front of him lay three quartz crystals. Mikhail stood at the door, hesitant.

“Well, come on then, boy. We don’t have all day,” the Magister said.

Mikhail jumped, closing the door hurriedly and approaching the only other chair in the room. He sat opposite the man, trying not to fidget too much. The Magister watched him calmly with dark eyes sunk so deep in his face, they were almost lost. He looked like an eagle, Mikhail thought with an odd sense of calm. Perhaps thinking of him as Eagle-Man would help to ease the fear.

“This won’t take long. What is your name?” Eagle-Man said, picking up a pen.

“Mikhail,” he said, watching as Eagle Man noted it down.

“Very well, Mikhail. This is a very simple process. As you know, I shall search you for talent now. The key to being a Magister lies not only in having the potential for power, but in being compatible with the crystals through which we focus our power,” Eagle Man said. “I will conduct a series of tests with this range of generic crystals here. Unlike the purpose-made, specialised crystals we meld with, these are your garden variety type.” Eagle Man sniffed at that and picked up a quartz crystal

“If it should blink with light as I pass it before your head – a highly unlikely circumstance – then we shall have the barest indication of your potential.” He passed it slowly before Mikhail’s eyes and just as it crossed the centre of his forehead, Mikhail thought he heard a whisper, deep in his mind. He focused, trying to make out what it said and as he did so a light sparked deep in the centre of the transparent crystal, blossoming into a blazing illumination. Eagle-Man cried out, dropping the crystal and covering his seared eyes with his hands. Mikhail couldn’t believe what was happening. His initial wave of fear was supplanted with another, stronger feeling, of power and exhilaration.

The sweet sensations of strength and happiness were unknown to him, so much so that he almost couldn't recognise the feeling . The whisper he’d heard earlier was stronger now, almost a susurrus of words; it was then Mikhail realised he was connected to the crystal in a way he’d never felt before, not even with people. It was not to last long however. Eagle-Man, blinking back tears mingled with blood, clamped his mind down on the link, severing boy and crystal. Mikhail gasped with pain as the brilliant crystal died back down into a dormant state. He could feel a deep headache building and groaned.

“Impossible!” Eagle Man whispered, not seeming too bothered with his injury. “Such power! It’s phenomenal!” He was staring at Mikhail almost hungrily and it was with shaking hands that he lifted the second and green crystal. He placed it before the bewildered and hurt Mikhail. “Place your hands on it,” he ordered.

Mikhail was breathing heavily, his head was pounding and there was an odd roaring sound in his ears, so much so that he barely heard the Magister. He reached out a hand and laid it lightly on the chosen crystal. Eagle Man’s hooked nose was almost on top of Mikhail’s hand, he was leaning in so close. At first there was nothing and both Eagle Man and Mikhail felt keenly the disappointment. Mikhail watched him sit back, frowning, but his attention was soon diverted. The green crystal beneath his hand began to tremble and Mikhail felt, not a whisper like the previous time, but a physical sensation of something battering into his mind. He grimaced, clamping his hand down on the bucking stone. The mental battering continued and the crystal began to burn beneath his fingers, stress lines creeping into its structure. Using all of his strength, Mikhail tore his hand away, just as the crystal exploded.

This effort proved to be too much for his inexperienced, newly exposed mind and he reeled backward. The shards of exploded crystal remained hovering in the air, contained by the Magister. The room was spinning, the pulsing blue light becoming almost hypnotic. As the darkness closed in, Mikhail’s last memory was of Eagle Man muttering something about incompatibility. His memories after that point were scant and fragmented; being escorted out of the building by the Magisters and their guards, hearing the whispers of his fellows as he did so, combined with their mean stares.

“Always knew he was a freak…”

“…a monster….”

He remembered black marble, flashes of light and the feel of cold stone beneath his back. Two men were standing nearby, talking. It took him a moment to realise they were talking about him.

“…most certainly a Wilder, sir,” Eagle Man, or what sounded like him, said. Mikhail kept his eyes closed. He couldn’t hear everything, but he strained to focus over the pounding headache.

“… Still, he remains a liability. After a certain stage, there’ll be no controlling such power…”

“It’s monstrous really…”

“The best option we have however. We can use him in the sting; a child, bursting with potential, will be irresistible bait…yes, and should he not survive? Well, then we are still less one unpredictable, potential rival. It’s a win-win situation…”

He’d received basic training before being thrown into a life and death situation. Little wonder he’d frozen, Mikhail thought bitterly now. He’d been cast out and as far as they were concerned, they were better off without him. He was better off here, monsters or not. Already, he had received better treatment. Mikhail shook himself out of reverie, realising he was staring at a bemused Sunestraka.

“Is anything the matter?” Sunestraka asked. “You’ve been staring at me for the past ten minutes.”

“Sorry, just thinking,” Mikhail said.

“About?”

“Me… this… us… I mean, can I really live amongst…,” Mikhail trailed off, looking away.

“Monsters?” Sunestraka prodded, sighing as Mikhail nodded meekly. “You’ve been living amongst them your whole life, Mikhail. Not all of us are monsters, boy. Sometimes we kill to survive, sometimes we do ugly deeds, it’s true. But show me the society that doesn’t.”

Mikhail had his doubts, it was true. There was something in Sunestraka he found himself liking though. There was strength and respect; the regard of equals, that Mikhail was warming to with every passing moment.

“So, you’re certain of this?”

Sunestraka snorted. “I didn’t say that. For now though, you remain my responsibility – I can’t just let you go. As for the other denizens, yes, there’ll be a few who’ll try to eat you,” he said, not noticing Mikhail suddenly blanch, “but they’d have to get through me first.”

“I’m not completely helpless, you know,” Mikhail said. He knew he was going to have to get used to the situation. After all, it wasn’t as if he had a choice.

“I know. All this talk of fighting reminds me; we must get going. If we are to attend the Meet, I must go prepared. And that means going home.”

‘But you said…”

“It’s a risk that must be taken,” Sunestraka interrupted. “Without my weapons we are as good as dead anyway. There’s a difference between springing a trap unaware and going in prepared.”

The fierce warrior turned, motioning Mikhail to follow him. They walked out of the kitchen and back through the twisting collections of rooms. Eventually they were walking through a hallway that came to a dead end. Set in the ground was the metal cover to a man hole. Sunestraka knelt, lifting it up as if it were made of paper and flinging it aside. He turned to his little friend.

“Are you ready?” he said.

“Not really,” Mikhail answered.

Sunestraka smiled and plunged down anyway.

“I just knew it wouldn’t matter,” Mikhail said, taking a deep breath. After a moment, he too descended into darkness.

*

At first, he could make out nothing. It was completely black. Mikhail blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the gloom. Immediately, he felt enclosed in much warmer air. After a moment of flailing about, the darkness began to lift. A soft, green glow was growing, spreading across the walls. As the light increased, Mikhail saw that the illumination was pulsing out of strange, circular shells on the wall. They were gnarled, spiky things, the top half of which clamped down on the lower. Out of the corner of his eye, Mikhail saw Sunestraka already moving away, but he couldn’t help but be fascinated with the source of the light.

He stepped closer to the wall, reaching out a hand tentatively.

“Stop! Don’t touch them!” Sunestraka shouted, belatedly aware of his entranced charge. The warning came not a moment too soon. The shell nearest Mikhail’s hand sprang open, revealing thousands of cramped, pointed teeth. It hissed, straining to get at him. Mikhail leaped back, stunned and horrified. As soon as he did so, the creature clamped back down to its initial state of seeming-dormancy. Mikhail took deep breaths, noticing as he did so that the air was surprising clean and despite the brown river of refuse.

The path on which he stood was a few inches above it, highlighted by the creatures that lined both walls. Sunestraka came striding back to him, incredulous.

“What are those things?” Mikhail asked, before Sunestraka could say anything.

“Those things could have killed you!" He shook his head. "It’s a wonder you’ve survived this long – Don’t. Touch. Anything.”

Sunestraka whirled back around and stomped off.

“It’s not my fault everything’s trying to kill me,” Mikhail muttered to himself, trailing the brooding warrior. “So what are they?” he called out, still staring at the creatures in fascination. He jogged a little to catch up and hear the answer. There was a pause for a moment.

“No one really knows what they are,” Sunestraka said. “We call them Eaters. When they sense the presence of life, they emit the glow you can see around us now, as a warning. They are actually quite beneficial to the Underground; they act as filters for the bad air.”

“So that’s why it doesn’t smell?”

“Indeed.”

“Have they always been here?”

“As long as I can remember,” Sunestraka said, turning the corner into a new, broad alley. It too, began to glow as they walked down it. Mikhail tried to reign in his natural curiosity, but it was hard. He was in a whole new world and it was only metres below the one he’d lived in his whole life. Even had he listened in his lessons, he’d not have learned much about the Underground. All they were told was that it was evil, full of monsters and had to be destroyed. Thinking of the orphanage and the lessons they’d learned, reminded him of something else.

“What is it you do, Sunestraka?”

Sunestraka stared at him for a moment. “Do?” he said.

“You know, like a job?” Mikhail said. In the orphanage, that one thing had been hammered home almost more then any other, was the need to get a job and contribute to the Council’s continued attempts to keep society well and functioning.

“I do…,” Sunestraka looked a bit lost. “Stuff. I roam the streets at night, I… try to remember. I fight most of all. Sometimes I am paid for this.”

Mikhail immediately latched onto that thought. “Like a bodyguard? An assassin?” His mind raced. This was the most exciting thing yet, by far. “Can you teach me to fight?”

Sunestraka stopped suddenly and Mikhail found himself metres ahead, alone. There was silence between them, aside from the slow gurgle of the river.

“Can you learn to kill?” Sunestraka said finally, eyes flashing fiercely.