Episode 3: The Charter Enlistment Ceremony
The Portscord Gymnasium pulsates with a frenzied energy, a sea of eager imbeciles poised to willingly tether their fates to the Charter during this year’s Enlistment Ceremony. It’s treated like some twisted festival. Games of ring toss, cornhole, and a makeshift bowling alley spring to life in center court, distracting participants from the weight of their impending decisions. A bartender crafts concoctions to help those regretting the absurd choice they’re making today. Booths line the perimeter, offering a chance to glean answers from Ocalia’s supposed finest. It’s a celebration of the prospect of charterhood, a stark contrast to the looming possibility of perishing in the trials. The juxtaposition teeters on the edge of irony, almost absurdly humorous.
Booths representing every planet in our solar system sprawl across the space, each vying for attention, occupied by its Lead Charter, but one stands out, a crowd magnet with a sign firmly anchored between two poles, reminiscent of a lemonade stand. Painted on the sign are the ominous words: The Charter Trials.
My heart skips a beat, and a fleeting sigh escapes my lips inadvertently. The sheer anxiety saturating the air here feels potent enough to earn me rejection from becoming a Charter at all. The sight of the booth, peddling a ticket to what essentially amounts to a death sentence and having deceived my sister into it, unsettles me. Normally, I’d bring Cameron or Gemma to navigate my social anxiety at events like this, but Cameron isn’t responding to my apology texts, and Gemma is out of town. So, here I am, navigating this solo. Until–
“Surprised you showed up,” I pivot toward the familiar voice coaxing me from the right. It’s Theodore. “You never called, so I assumed you’d made up your mind.” His eyes, more inviting than during our initial encounter, meet mine. I catch myself almost grinning at the familiarity, but I quash it. I can’t afford to seem too intrigued.
“I made my decision. That’s why I’m here,” I assert, unintentionally infusing more sharpness into my words. Theodore smirks in response losing our eye contact in the process. “Ah, Hendrix, great to see you,” he says, striding past me to greet him. As I turn, a vivid flashback to the day I was told about Mom’s disappearance unfolds in my mind like a stop-motion film. Hendrix Harrison looms before me, towering over the room, his black eyes reflecting the darkness I know lies within. I haven’t encountered him since that night, but I did witness his son with a broken nose yesterday.
“Mr. Wallace, likewise. Hope you are well. Do my eyes deceive me, or is this the one and only Calum Quinn?” His gaze locks onto mine as he pats my head as if I’m a dog yearning for love, igniting a simmer of irritation at the condescending gesture. “Signing up for the trials? Very brave and noble of you. Your mother and sister would be proud, I’m sure of it,” he says with a deceptive smirk. “You sure have got the arm.”
I feel my cheeks flush. Part of me wants to fade into the background, while the other aches to stand my ground. “Luka’s got quite the barbaric attitude,” I mutter, rolling my eyes with all the dramatic flair I can muster.
“Anywho, I know there are several eager to speak with the Matturian Charter so I shall make my way,” Hendrix turns toward Theodore. “Take care,” then turns to me. “See you at the booth, yeah?” And off he goes, under the assumption that I should feel honored by his presence. The way he struts, talks, and looks makes me want to barf. Confidence is one thing, but there’s a fine line between that and plain conceit.
"You should explore. Find what Charter sits at the top of your list. Ceclis doesn’t have to be your first destination. Here," he hands me a pamphlet, and a quick flip through reveals a page for each planet with space for a stamp. "You'll need to visit each Charter and get their stamp before you can sign up for the trials. Also, make connections. If you genuinely want to make it past the trials, you'll need allies beforehand, not just during," Theodore pats my shoulder before concluding his advice. "And one last thing. Don't make enemies with the wrong people. You know exactly who I'm talking about." He nods in the direction of Hendrix with a meaningful look, then strolls away toward the Ceclis Booth.
I take a quick spin around the room, trying to absorb everything I missed the first time. Honestly, I'm clueless about where to even begin. How do you make friends with people who might try to behead you during the trial? I've heard crazy stories about candidates going full-on inhuman, killing just for fun, not even caring about winning. It's freaky, and suddenly, I'm regretting my decision. All I want is to bail, head back home, crash in bed, and pretend the last few days never happened. I crave the simpler times when I never socked Luka in the face, when Cameron, Gemma, and I hit up Hot Shots to overdose on coffee and gossip. Back when I hadn't met Theodore Wallace, the man who singlehandedly talked me into signing up for a deadly competition that claimed my sister's life years ago. But I know I have to shake those thoughts if I want to find my Mom.
I saunter over to the first booth, occupied by a girl a few years older than me, engaging in lively conversation with a group of applicants. Her vibrant blue eyes shimmer like sunlight on water as she passionately recounts her time in the Charter. Her pin-straight, platinum-blonde locks delicately cascade over her shoulders, hardly budging an inch as she turns to address each person in the group. A banner proudly stands next to her, showcasing an image of herself standing atop a mountain. Mud slathers her cheeks, a substantial scratch marks her forehead, and her pants sport multiple holes. The name Cassiopeia Page is boldly printed below the image, kind of like a movie poster. I lean to the side, attempting to catch a glimpse of the booth sign through the crowd.
CHARTER SECONDS
Assistants to the Brave
“Don’t let her looks fool you,” Someone chirps beside me. I turn, and a petite girl of Hispanic descent is standing there, eyes locked on Cassiopeia. “It’s all for the show. Trust,” she says, turning to me and throwing her hand out for me to shake. I do. “I’m Iris Winters. Twenty-one, live in Gramton, yes I’m excited to be here.” She beams, radiating the same positive energy I got from Gemma the first time I met her, “Thought I’d save you from asking the ice breakers.”
I laugh. “Calum Quinn.”
“Wait? Calum Quinn? You’re Corina Quinn’s son? That’s so wild,” Her bubbly laughter takes off and her excitement practically radiates from her body language. “I started following her when she became the Lead Matturian Charter. She was so badass! Sorry for how things turned out.” Her expression completely changes throughout the sentence, shifting from one of happiness to one of solace.
“It’s okay. It’s why I’m here,” I glance around the gym, attempting to avoid direct eye contact since hers hasn’t wavered since we met. “I’m going to find her.”
“So you think she’s still out there?”
I nod. “Without a doubt. The Charter gave up on searching, but I won’t,” I clear my throat, a nervous tic to shift the conversation, “Why are you signing up?”
"To cultivate humanity and explore the reaches of Ocalia, of course," she quips, reciting the Charter mission statement with a hint of sarcasm, and we both crack up – the first time I've felt normal in days. "But seriously, I'm doing this because I want to feel important. Loved, even. I didn't have a family growing up, so becoming a Charter would mean having a family of my own. I'd finally feel like I matter, you know?" Silence drops between us like a bomb, and we just stare at each other with blank expressions. She starts squirming uncomfortably. "Oops, didn't mean to spill my life story. I'm still figuring out my answer to that question." She chuckles, then grabs both of my hands like we're already in a committed relationship. "You help me become a Charter, and I'll help you find your Mom, deal?" Her eyes sparkle, her face lights up, and a weird surge of adrenaline courses through my veins. It's the thrill of making my first friend so quickly, one I've instantly connected with. Someone who not only gets why I'm doing this but wants to join the adventure.
“Deal. Although, not sure how I can help you become a Charter.” I scratch my head as our hands drop back to our sides.
“You keep me alive, duh. Now, I don't have any pages stamped yet, so let’s go do that.” She giggles again and grabs my hand, steering me away from Cassiopeia’s table and towards the opposite side of the gymnasium where the Voxii Booth sits.
VOXII
“Good morning!” The Charter’s voice resonates through the room, and his intense gaze gives me a moment of unease. Are they all like this?
“Morning.” Iris and I respond simultaneously.
“I’m Elden Kastle, Lead Charter for Voxii.” We exchange handshakes, and I steal a glance at Iris, who seems captivated by his imposing figure. “Are you two considering signing up for the trials?”
“We’re still thinking abo–”
“Yes!” Iris interrupts me with enthusiasm and nudges my side. “Absolutely looking forward to it!!”
“We’re looking forward to not dying.” I clarify, eliciting a round of laughter.
"It’s definitely a risky field," Elden shifts his weight, crossing his arms confidently, showcasing the bulging muscles under his tank top. I wouldn't want to cross him in a fight. "But, there’s so much more to anticipate than just dodging death," he glances at me. "Voxii is a water-world, so we delve into extensive undersea exploration. You get to learn scuba diving, pilot submarines, and even undergo underwater tactical training. We’ve cataloged thousands of species of plants and animals, and we’ve barely scratched the surface, charting less than 1% of the oceans. It’s mind-blowing!" He chuckles wryly after his well-practiced spiel. "Are either of you contemplating a future on Voxii?"
"I can't stand the heat. Or water." I mumble, my discomfort with both evident in my tone. Elden shoots me an annoyed glance, and Iris playfully slaps my arm.
"I absolutely adore the water. And the heat? Oh, it must get hot over there," Iris gushes, emphasizing 'hot' as she twirls her hair. Her attempt at flirting is endearing, but to spare any awkwardness, I quickly hook my arm into hers and guide us away to another booth.
“Thanks for your time!” I call back to Elden, leaving him with a blank stare and a conversation that didn’t quite hit the mark.
“I know we just met, but that was painful to watch. We’ll go back for our stamp.” I say as I unhook my arm. She looks a bit offended.
“I’m sorry. Did you see him?” She bursts into laughter. “If we make it through the trials, I know where my first placement request will be.” I let out a sarcastic huff to express my disdain as we make our way to the next booth.
MICTO
The woman behind the table looks very reserved as if she doesn’t want to be there. “Do we talk to her? She doesn’t look very friendly.” I whisper.
“Uh, yeah. We have to meet all of them,” She waves her pamphlet at me.
“Hi, you’re Koba Kinkead?” Iris’s voice gets soft. Koba stands from her chair, letting her black dress and hair unfold. Her hair, a cascade of glossy black waves, frames her face, and her makeup is minimal but enhances her striking features. She has an air of elegance, like a character from a noir film, and her reserved demeanor only adds to the mystery that shrouds her. The black dress, with its fuzzy cuffs and gold belt, gives off an intriguing blend of sophistication and a touch of rebellion. As she stands, it’s as if she’s stepped out of a fashion magazine, embodying a style that is luxurious, enigmatic, and honestly far from what I would expect from a Charter.
“Hello.” Her voice is deep.
“I’m Iris, this is Calum. It’s so nice to meet you!” Iris’s bubbly persona seems to be clashing with Koba’s, as her face hints at a subtle annoyance. She turns to me with a soft, but curious gaze.
“Calum Quinn? Corina’s boy. Yes, I know you.” Koba’s voice carries a note of recognition, her words emphasizing the connection to my mother. I glance at Iris with a slight frown, silently acknowledging the one-sidedness of the greeting.
“Have we met before?” I attempt to bridge the gap in our interaction.
"Hmm, when you were a child. Your mother and I were in the same trial. Along with Theo," Koba discloses a piece of history about Theodore that I wasn't aware of, yet it doesn't surprise me given their closeness. "We were actually the only three left from our induction class for many years. The rest had, unfortunately, perished," her tone takes on a somber note. "I'm sorry about her." The weight of her words hangs in the air, acknowledging the shared past and the losses endured during their Charter journey.
Taking a deep breath, I try to brush off the condolences, not wanting my mother’s memory to dominate every conversation. “It’s alright,” I look at Iris and smile, trying to lift the mood. “Can you tell us about Archwill? What’s it like?”
Koba delves into the specifics of her Charter, dubbed the 'Interstellar Charter,' renowned for venturing beyond Ocalia's designated territories to explore celestial bodies like moons, asteroids, and neighboring exoplanets. Describing Archwill, her assigned planet, she paints a picture of a relentless cold, lacking the familiar comforts cherished in our world—no restaurants, movie theatres, or schools, for example. It seems like an entirely different universe. "I find fulfillment in the work," Koba shares, emphasizing the deeper mission of expanding Ocalia. However, she warns that life on Archwill is not for the faint-hearted. A subtle grin barely surfaces on her lips, nearly imperceptible.
“Yeah, not for me.” Iris chuckles.
“It sounds very…adventurous,” I say, carefully choosing my words while flashing a smile.
Koba settles back into her seat, crossing her legs. “It’s not the usual first choice for new Charters, and that’s understandable. It can be quite intimidating and more perilous, but then, so is every other world. Your mother claimed that our missions on Archwill were her favorite. Perhaps you’ll find to love it more than you expect.” With that, she reaches forward, taking hold of our pamphlets and imprinting the Archwill page with the planet’s distinctive emblem.
“Thank you, Koba. Maybe if I make it through the trials, you could share some stories of your missions with her.”
“When you make it through the trials,” she smiles more openly this time. “Sure, we can do that,” She returns her attention to Iris. “We will cross paths on Archwill eventually. Keep an open mind. You may surprise yourself.”
“Thanks,” Iris replies, seeming a bit apologetic. I think she realizes she’s been a little distant during this conversation.
Suddenly, the gymnasium falls silent, except for a few hushed whispers and gasps. Iris and I turn simultaneously.
“Who is that?” She questions.
On the other side of the gym, a figure with fiery, blonde locks storms towards me, their gaze intense and predatory, like a tiger about to strike its prey.
End of Episode 3.
