Page 39 of Guiding Desire
ORREY
Due to untrained Conduits’ propensity for accidentally creating and releasing electrical charges, schooling for Year One through to Year Eight will rely on printed textbooks and the use of paper workbooks. Likewise, the use of calculators need only happen by year nine at the earliest.
Therefore, educational goals must include proper penmanship as well as a good understanding of how to solve mathematical problems by hand. Memorization and retention are stepping stones toward those goals.
While Guardians have no such limitations when they are untrained, mechanical malfunctions of complex assemblages happening around them are of concern, especially for those wishing to handle guns in combat situations. Unlike Conduits, Guardians stand no chance of controlling these malfunctions, and testing of whether they trigger any should happen through weapons training or working with antique engines no later than Year Nine.
Guardians and Conduits will begin channeling sessions together starting in Year Six. As it is not desirable for either to feel educational goals and strategies are disparate, the above stated must also apply for Guardians. Likewise, Conduits will be offered the opportunity of training with guns, although they may opt out.
(New Educational Guidelines in Accordance with Our Improved Societal Policies, Operational AIs and Chief Educators.)
Hedreamedoftheexplosion. It made the world painfully bright, and when the brightness went away again, nothing hurt, and he was fine, but no longer in Argentea, or not the Argentea that he knew.
“Hello?” Orrey said, but this was a dream. He knew that, had been aware enough in others to know it.
No one in the dreamscape answered him, and he walked around. Not all dreams would allow that, but this one did.
This place, this city, it wasn’t his. There was no light, just an ugly brown shimmer for a sky, something dull and monochrome, like a bloodstain in your clothes, washed out but not removed.
Orrey recognized the outline of Meridian Park. From where he was, near one of the entrances, he could see the path the Covenant Week Guardian Parade had taken, could see his section, even though if this were real, he wouldn’t be able to. Distances were twisted here.
That path, it was lined with black shadows. They were people-shaped, the only things a mighty blast had left of them. One of them was larger than the rest, black hair still soft and falling almost to his shoulders, and with the certainty of dreams, Orrey knew that this was Senlas.
“No! No, not you,” he screamed, voice raw and pained, and still not loud enough.
Yet, it was loud enough to bring them. The insurrectionists. Those who made bombs that turned people into shadows. They came like hungry beetles to a corpse, wearing black that stood out starkly against the taint of the dreamscape, parasols dropping from their hands as they ran, their faces hidden behind surgical masks, but their eyes standing out black, a void of hopelessness.
Orrey knew without a doubt that they were here to eat him like they had eaten all the world, everything that was good, all the people that were able and willing to protect others.
He turned and ran, forcing himself to abandon the dream.
He woke, knew he was waking. He’d learned to do that when he was a child, when he’d have worse dreams than this on a regular basis.
Coming awake began with confusion because he didn’t recognize where he was, and worse, there was someone next to him, their arm around Orrey.
He jerked away.
“Oh, shh, it’s just me.”
Orrey let out a low yelp before he recognized Senlas’s voice. The Guardian was very close, warm, and despite what might have constituted his better judgment at finding the man in his bed, Orrey relaxed.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“Just didn’t want to leave you alone. I can leave if you want.”
Orrey didn’t. The masked faces of the beetle people, the insurrectionists of his dreams, were still too clear in Orrey’s mind for comfort, still too clear for him to want to be alone.
“It’s fine. But, the others. Shouldn’t we join them? Are they still here?”
Senlas’s hand stroked down the side of Orrey’s body. It wasn’t sexual. Orrey had never received that kind of touch from someone outside his family. In fact, this kind of closeness outside of a sexual context hadn’t been something Orrey had ever sought. And yet, Senlas’s touch, for nothing more than comfort? Orrey liked it.
“They’re fine. They’re streaming and eating all my food.”
“You said your aunt filled up your freezer.”
Senlas’s chuckle was dark and warm, not unlike his hand. “It’s less full now.”
“Can I ask something?” Orrey said, relaxing against Senlas’s touch.
