"We are here to guard the sect and the balance of the world that feeds it. A single boy's feats will not break our rules... unless those feats prove that the rules were not built to contain him. That is what we decide now."
He turned his gaze slowly across the elder faces, reading their heat and fear and greed like an open scroll. "Elder Anutach speaks wisely: anomalies are to be studied. Tankuht speaks from experience: the wild-forged can be the sharpest blade or the ragged wound. Caron's counsel is pragmatic; control is safer than ignorance. Silvia anchors us to procedure. Merit and Iset remind us of risk and duty."
Sekhem folded his hands behind his back and exhaled. "Derek, you argue for direct admission because you see a chance to gain. Caron, you argue for containment. Both are valid. But the sect answers to more than one need." He paused, and the light in the chamber pooled around his words.
"Bahamut, the caveman, as the crowd calls him, has demonstrated capacity well beyond his stated Circle. He has survived a Circle of Mind creature, slain a wyrm, and broken a trial border that should have ended him. He has bled, and in bleeding he has also shown us a method of adaptation that the codices do not account for." Sekhem's tone was neither praise nor condemnation; it was measurement. "We cannot allow the trials to maim a potential fulcrum of power nor leave him to wander unobserved. He is an instrument and a hazard."
He stepped down from his chair and crossed the dais, moving toward the center as if his words were heavy things needing to be placed carefully. "Therefore, by the authority vested in the Twelve, Bahamut will be removed from the trial stream."
A dozen breaths seemed to stop. Some elders' mouths twitched in surprise or relief; others, like Silvia's, clenched in tidy displeasure.
Sekhem continued, unhurried, "He will not be punished. He will not stand before the next test. He will be placed into supervised admission: a controlled tutelage under Elder Derek's oversight for martial refinement, under Anutach's lineage study for spirit cataloguing, and under Iset's archive for cross-referencing past anomalies. Tankuht will oversee his integration into the rites of survival and the ethics of power."
"Supervised admission," Silvia repeated, tone clipped. "You propose to bend our own statutes."
"I propose oversight for the good of all," Sekhem replied. "He will be bound to watchers, to treaties, and to the sect's obligations. We will study him, catalog the nature of his intent, and decide in ten cycles whether to formalize him as inducted or to guide him to an alternate path. This is not a gift. It is a containment exercised with benefit to the sect."
Caron inclined his head, dark hood dipping. "So we control him and profit from his presence."
"We contain risk and steward power," Sekhem corrected softly. "Which is what the Shadow Fang has always done."
Frugo nodded once. Karesh exhaled, some satisfaction easing his shoulders. Derek's jaw remained locked, but the steely set in his eyes betrayed his readiness to accept command, if only to steer the outcome.
Sekhem met Derek's blue gaze for a long heartbeat. "Elder Derek, you will take the lead on his tutelage. Anutach will lead spiritual cataloguing with two monitors assigned to him. Iset and Merit will handle archival recording. Tankuht will ensure his survival training is disciplined, not feral. Haley and Baset, " Sekhem named two others in a measured roll call, and Baset's ears twitched at the summons, "will oversee the watchers."
He turned finally to the group. "This is a decision for the sect, not for individual glory. We will not break our laws; we will extend our arm to grasp what the world offers us, carefully."
Silence tightened, then sloughed off into practical motions: nods, the soft rustle of robes, the reach for ink and seal. The debate broke like a wave upon a cliff, fierce, then inevitable.
Elder Derek's voice, low and cold, cut the closing murmur: "Very well. I will begin immediate supervision."
Sekhem inclined his head with the barest of motions. "Make sure he is watched, trained, and not left to his own devices. The sect must be fed with power wisely, not devoured by it."
Outside, the Citadel wind wound through black stone. Inside, a new directive had been carved, half mercy, half strategy, entirely a verdict that would alter the course of one reckless, bloodied youth called Bahamut.
The meeting dispersed with the weight of the decision settling in every elder's chest. Plans were set into motion, seals prepared, and watchers chosen. The Caveman would be taken, not to be spared, but to be made useful, and to be kept from breaking them all.
...
It was now 2:00 p.m., and the contestants and the audience were still waiting for whatever the elders were discussing.
The place had become noisy as people debated on what was going to be the elders' decision.
"I'm sure he would be given special treatment. He deserves it!" A contestant who had failed the first test said, his eyes glinting with admiration. His black hair was covered slightly with a headband, giving him a cool look, or so he thought.
"The sect wouldn't admit a barbarian, right? That guy is clearly barbaric, and he's also blind. What possibly could a blind person do?" A girl with severe makeup and brown hair spoke with mirth.
"Are you blind or stupid or both? That guy would kill you with a sneeze! And you talk of barbarism. You even failed the first test, while he passed on to the fifth stage of the second test. Has jealousy and stupidity affected your eyes, too?" A short guy with a bald head, dressed like an ancient Egyptian citizen, rebuked the girl with a cold gaze.
"You!"
"Tsk! A bunch of noisy brats... why are we still sitting here? Is that guy truly worth it?" The storm-eyed boy, whose name was Aerith, spoke in a harsh tone.
"Patience, friend. He truly deserves it. He earned it after all," the silver-haired elf guy said with a calm gaze. His name was Sel.
"Would he accept me as his wife?" the russet-furred beastkin girl said with a stormy gaze. Her name was Lily, and she was a fox beastkin.
"I just wanna fight him!" Yoka, one of the wolfkin twins, said. His hair was shorter than his brother's.
"Mm!" Yuka nodded vigorously, his hair falling over his face in the process.
"I'm hungry!" an elf girl with long blonde hair exclaimed, as she slumped lazily in her seat. She was by name, Aria.
"You people are noisy..." the broad-shouldered human guy, Rex, said with a bored gaze, his muscles flexing on their own as he spoke.
"Maybe I should forfeit..." a lizard beastkin boy with a slightly bleeding shoulder spoke meekly. He was Gabi. He had barely survived the combat test. He feared what was to come next, but anytime he recalled Bahamut's battle, he got a certain motivation and determination to continue.
'If a blind guy has achieved it, I can achieve it too!'
If only...
As they bantered and debated, the examiner walked onto the stage and cleared his throat.
"The next test would commence in three minutes. All participants, prepare. It is a survival test, which would last days, even months, in the test area. The time there is different from there. A day there could be a few minutes here, or a month here. It is random, so prepare well.
Bahamut has been exempted from taking this test and any other test until further notice.
Your trial is to survive the environment you are transported to for at least three days. There would be beasts of Tier 1 Circle of Body to Circle of Mind, a few Circle of Initiation, and if you are unfortunate, you could encounter a Tier 2 beast. There are also hidden orbs around that could give you access to things that could help you survive, so be vigilant.
The test commences now! All participants, move to the center."
The examiner, Elder Hakar, spoke at length. The description of the test caused some of the participants to frown a bit, but they still got up.
After they all stood at the center, the examiner talked to them one last time.
"Any questions?"
"Uh... Sir?" Gabi raised his hand.
"Yes?"
"Is there a possibility of death?"
"Hmm... why don't you try and find out?"
"O-Okay!"
"Then off you go! Good luck!"
With that, a huge, dark gold teleportation portal appeared beneath them and swallowed them up, teleporting them to the test grounds.
The third test, Trial of Survival, had officially begun, and Bahamut... was sleeping.