Chapter Text
Choosing a suitable apprentice is an incredibly hard job, at least that's what I believe it should be. To drag another person, a child, into this job is seen by many as a heartless action. They do not want to be chosen, why would they? Any who wish to be a scythe can and should never be one. I've never heard a new apprentice say they wanted to be one. That is good, it means they have compassion for their fellow man, it means their consciousness won't let them take their position lightly. This is the only standard we must demand from those whom we engage in the job.
-From the gleaning journal of H.S, Faraday
Rowan knew something was wrong the moment he heard banging on the door. He joked that Faraday could have forgotten his keys but he knew he was wrong. The scythe would never. And then in such rapid succession came the BladeGuard and the High Blade and the horrifying news. He'd realized why Faraday had self-gleaned before Xenocrates had said it. And now here they were, having stood so close to freedom, only to have it ripped away.
"You should be flattered, however," The High Blade was saying. "Not just one, but two scythes have come forward - one for each of you.”
Citra tried to protest, but it was futile. The matter had already been settled before they'd even known Faraday was dead. Citra would be taken by Scythe Curie. Rowan closed his eyes. He knew what was coming next, even before Xenocrates said the words.
"You, Rowan, will complete your training in the capable hands of Scythe Volta." Rowan opened his eyes in confusion. He had been sure it'd be Goddard, could it be he was just paranoid? However, the High Blade continued. "Now, he was only ordained a few years ago, but given that he's a part of Scythe Goddard's inner circle, I'm sure your training will not suffer."
Rowan should've known not to get his hopes up so easily. Of course, Goddard wouldn't officially be his teacher - if he failed it would look bad on the scythe’s reputation. Unknowingly to him, that had been the right decision – Rowan had already decided he would let Citra win. He had no intention of pursuing the scythe title when he knew she would be a better fit.
The girl didn’t say much to Rowan when Scythe Curie came to pick her up. What was there to say after all? They hugged quickly and Citra left with her new mentor. He had buried himself in his thoughts when he noticed a new presence next to him. He looked up to see a scythe in a bright yellow robe, which stood out in the dimly lit room. Rowan recalled seeing him at the Vernal Conclave.
“Nice to meet you Rowan, I’m Scythe Volta. I am terribly sorry for your loss. Scythe Faraday was a good man.”
“Yeah,” Rowan muttered and got up to leave. “He was.”
If Volta had detected Rowan’s bitter attitude, he didn’t say anything, and led the boy to a car that was waiting outside.
“Scythe Goddard’s estate is about an hour away,” He said as they got in. “So you can rest up if you’d like. In fact, I’d recommend it.”
Rowan was sure he would not be able to catch a second of sleep tonight, but he nodded anyway. He leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes as the chauffeur started up the car and set off on the road to Rowan’s new life.
Volta couldn’t help but stare at the boy. He recalled his own apprenticeship, not too long ago, which had not been nearly as eventful. He knew, of course, that Rowan hated him and everything he stood for. But that was inevitable in the beginning. He could only hope they’d eventually get along better. Volta shook his head lightly and reminded himself not to get too ahead of the situation. He then pulled out a book and settled down for the rest of the ride.
Meanwhile, Rowan was sure he was about to cry. He had made up his mind to let Citra kill him with little hesitation. What he was not looking forward to, however, were the months he would have to endure before then. Scythe Volta didn’t seem too bad for now, but Rowan knew what he had suspected from the moment Xenocrates first spoke – most of his training would be under Scythe Goddard. He was glad Scythe Curie had stepped in to save Citra from this nightmare. He remembered that Faraday admired the woman, so he was sure Citra was in good hands. He wished he could say the same about his own situation. Rowan decided to compose himself and find out as much as he could from Volta before they got to the estate.
“So why did Scythe Goddard decide I’m too unimportant to train me himself?” He asked suddenly. Volta didn’t seem startled and calmly closed his book.
“You’re going right into it then, huh? Well, to answer your question, he’s a busy man.”
“Okay, so why take me in the first place?”
“Come on, you and the girl are the most interesting topic the Scythedom has had in years. He wouldn’t miss a chance to train the star of the show.”
“So, what? You’re just the scapegoat if anything goes wrong?”
“You are assuming that you’ll lose, but from what I’ve heard you’re a very promising apprentice.” Rowan noticed Volta avoid the question but decided not to comment on that. He stayed silent for a little bit, then asked:
“Why do you follow him?”
The question did manage to evoke a small reaction from the scythe. Rowan notice him become ever so slightly defensive.
“Scythe Goddard is a visionary,” Volta replied. “He sees our future. I’m much more interested in being a part of the Scythedom’s future than its past.”
“That sounds like you’ve been rehearsing it.” Rowan said. The scythe’s mood noticeably went down, but he laughed off the comment.
“I think you’ll fit in just fine. Scythe Goddard likes a sharp wit.”
Rowan wished he could learn more, but they had reached the large iron gates of the mansion. He supposed he would have the chance to do that later on. However, when they entered the actual building, his every sense was assaulted by the party that was going on. He let go of hoping he would learn anything of use anytime soon.
“Welcome to the funhouse!” Volta leaned in to tell him when they went inside. Rowan got the feeling he didn’t approve of the glamorous event but didn’t have time to reflect on that. He was being dragged right to Goddard to introduce himself. What a ride he was in for.
Apprentices shape the Scythedom. That is an undeniable fact about the world we live in. We should give them all we can, in order to ensure our own survival. I do, however, fear that some inappropriate selections were made in the past. They have turned the inner politics of the Scythedom into an unpredictable mess. This is why it is more important than ever to choose our future carefully in the faces of our apprentices.
-From the gleaning journal of H.S. Faraday