At the turn of midnight, Daiden experienced the start of his first day as a non-resident of the Earthen Realm. He breathed the thought, in and out, and at a gentle pace. His head turned from left to right, and stopped at Aelius Bloodheart; the latter stood frozen in a trance, at the sight of a full moon. In puzzlement, Daiden scratched the back of his head and hesitantly approached his Evaluator.
“You appear to be in possession of a named weapon,” said Aelius, immediately, breaking silence. “Do you happen to know its name?”
Daiden responded affirmatively, with a slow nod.
“That’s good; you should be able to summon it at any time without worry then,” revealed Aelius. “Allow it to rest for now.”
Daiden had carried Takshaka along with him for the conversation. He felt an odd sense of attachment with his weapon, but the absence of a sheath had added to some awkwardness. With the recommendation from his armoured Evaluator, he released his hold on the hilt. His fingers relaxed on instinct, and a gentle light followed, sheathing Takshaka in an embrace; it assimilated with the blade at the tip, and slowly moved to the top until nothing remained. Daiden observed the miracle with amazement, the transference of his weapon into an alternate space. It didn’t worry him.
With the completion of his assessment, Daiden had started to notice some of the little things. His speech, for instance; he spoke the tongue with fluency, yet realized it to be different from English, or even his native language. In that instant, he recalled the reconstruction of his decapitated head, and what the process enabled for him. His skin tingled at the thought, at the strangeness that led to his present situation.
“The mark around your neck binds you to your contract with us; at the same time, it grants you the power to forge your own contracts,” explained Aelius. “You’re a strange one, aren’t you, though? I’ve evaluated around forty-four contractual candidates over the course of my tenure as an Evaluator, not once did your predecessors ever bond with their first weapon.”
Daiden expectantly looked to his Evaluator for more; Aelius spat a tired sigh, but relented to the former’s thirst for knowledge.
“In truth, there is no single answer to pass this test; for instance, you could have subdued your Soul Doll with conversation even,” continued Aelius, searching back to a candidate once judged as an orator. “The test is designed to estimate potential, and as such, focuses more on individual aptitudes.
“On nine, odd occasions, certain candidates had managed to luck into assistive tools from the rift, the world in between – mostly adequate for the purpose of the test, yes, but not nearly reliable enough for longevity in our world. You’re the tenth to achieve such a feat.”
Daiden quietened at the comment. He lowered his head and pondered over the explanation; his expression eased through the process. He felt his hair stand with excitement, at the idea of crossing over to his new world. But Daiden stalled in realization of a simple truth – his lack of information.
“I have three questions,” said Daiden, suddenly, but with a polite tone. “May I ask them?”
Aelius folded his arms and nodded once, in quiet confirmation.
“How many of my forty-four predecessors passed with you as an Evaluator?” asked Daiden. “Also, what of those assessed with combat potential?”
Aelius scratched his chin and answered after some thought, “We experienced success with twenty-seven contractual candidates; the process filtered twelve with strong combat potential overall, but only three ever managed to cross over to our world.”
Daiden trembled with what was presented to him. “This is working out rather favourably. The odds of success for those evaluated with combat potential is little more than an abysmal fifteen percent; what’s more, even on the assumption that they had all managed to draw weapons, my situation with Takshaka should rank as unprecedented!”
Daiden masked a smile; he realized it in that moment, the feasibility of his promise. It would take time, but he felt reassured with the presented information.
“Are any of my predecessors still alive, over at your, my new world, I mean?” asked Daiden, immediately.
“Our world doesn’t permit the existence of more than one Awakened at any given point in time, so, no,” revealed Aelius, to Daiden’s surprise. “It’s a treaty we signed over three thousand years ago; you may come to understand it in due time.”
Daiden offered a puzzled expression in response to the comment, but dismissed the thought in favour of something more immediate – the world in between.
“Isn’t this your fourth question?” remarked Aelius, in jest, slowly warming to the presence of his charge.
Daiden grinned sheepishly and bowed his head in an apology. “Could you overlook this, maybe think of it as a reward for me clearing my assessment?”
“You’ve received more than most,” said Aelius, sharply. He intended for the matter to end in that moment, but warmed when in confrontation with Daiden’s shameless persistence. At the sight, Aelius spat another sigh in exhaustion. “I’m not permitted to exist in this world upon the completion of my role as an Evaluator. Let this be your last question for now.”
“Yes!” said Daiden, hurriedly.
“It’s a graveyard managed by Contractors – godless creatures, the one that decapitated you as well,” revealed Aelius, simply. “Anything disowned by a world is bound to an existence in between – weapons, armour, animals, and yes, even those that fail the evaluation. In time, those with intelligence degrade to become Contractors.”
Daiden shuddered uncontrollably, as a reflex to the revelation; he clenched his chest, hollowed with fear. Despite aid from Ehedus, he felt his heart plunge into a state of anxiety. He coughed, and then smiled at having escaped a fate worse than death. His mind slowly settled, and brimmed with questions now. He almost pursued Aelius for more information, but paused in remembrance of the latter’s situation. Daiden eased his heart and chased after his once Evaluator. For now, he just needed to cross over to his new life without issue.
