Guardians

Chapter Two: An Interrogation

My legs burned as we sprinted through the last couple of blocks to the schoolyard. The emphatic ringing from the school bell rushed blood to my knees, crushing my calfs with vibrations. Time ran as fast as we did, but the earsplitting resonance made it seem faster.

Slowly but surely, the bell's noise abated, but only when we reached the front door did the sound dissipated entirely. Wyatt and I entered the building gasping for air like that Dweller had been a while ago. I understood where he was coming from. After chasing us to the brink of exhaustion for some money and not getting any, I would be angry enough to punch a stranger in the face. I also wanted to punch myself for being late again.

"Damn, looks like we missed the bell by a good couple of seconds," panted Wyatt.

"Great, Mrs. Sands will have our heads for this."

"Correction: my head. Your ears might be bleeding from her screaming at you, but my thick skull is going to throb for days."

"Don't exaggerate it. Your 'thick skull' will cushion the blow. I'm sure you won't feel a thing,"

"Haha, what a riot," he feigned amusement and smacked me over the back of the head.

It was maybe five minutes past Initium Excitus, and by this point we were late enough that running would just be a waste of energy. So, we casually strolled down the halls of the school to our class.

The hallways were stark and plain. Creme paint smeared the walls and simple black tiles covered the floor. Nothing to bat an eye at; nothing that grabbed attention. And that was my every day. Once again, I didn't complain. Simplicity was comforting.

At last we approached our first period class: history. We were relieved to finally arrive, but our teacher, Mr. Tinker, felt the opposite. The minute I stepped into the classroom we were already being scolded.

"What time is it currently, Mr. Oliveira?" Mr. Tinker asked rhetorically.

I decided to answer him anyways. I consulted the digital clock that hung over the chalkboard, "Ten past IE, sir."

His frown contorted further, drowning the room in his disappointment. However, it quickly turned into a smug smirk, "And would you care to tell the class on what IE stands for?"

Mr. Tinker's enjoyment for embarrassing students wasn't new to me, but I entertained his urge, "Initium Excitus, or 'Beginning of the Wake.'"

"Now, care to indulge me on your excuse for missing your Wake?"

Wyatt stepped in to take some of the damage, "We were nearly mugged on the way here. Some Dweller tried stealing our money."

Mr. Tinker stroked his nonexistent beard, an odd gesture for a man who could not grow facial hair. I assumed he was passing judgement on our story, "Coming from your grandmother, I can't see the truth in his words. Shall I interrogate you, Mr. Oliveira?"

I sighed, irritated by this petty squandering, "If it helps you realize that we're telling the truth, then fine."

Mr. Tinker sat me down in front of the class, and began to pace in front of me. Wyatt walked over to his seat, which was directly in front of Mr. Tinker's seat. That seat was where Mr. Tinker places his "favorite student," and Wyatt earned it because of how many times he had fallen asleep during a lecture. I really wished I was in Wyatt's seat instead of being humiliated in front of the class.

"Now I'm not doing this for your punishment, Mr. Oliveira. Your tardiness is a perfect catalyst for today's lesson. I want to see how you can convince me that you are telling the truth."

That was a blatant lie. What lesson could possibly benefit from an interrogation?

"Today we will learn about persuasion, something cultists and protectors of irreligion are very good at, and have been doing for years. We're going to test Mr. Oliveira here. Then, we'll talk about the history of many of these cults and their methods of...persuasion."

Mr. Tinker's teaching methods had always been peculiar, almost to the point of being controversial. I recall one time he used Wyatt as an object for systemic oppression, saying his "dark skin was a plague on the rest of the world." It was a racism lecture that Mrs. Sands took quite an offense to.

"State your name and occupation," ordered Mr. Tinker, who stood erect and looked down upon me for intimidation. Sadly, he did not frighten me one bit.

Still, I hesitated in answering, "Elijah Oliveira. Uh, I don't have a job."

"Your occupation is student," Mr. Tinker answered immediately.

I remained speechless, raising an eyebrow at Mr. Tinker, who started again, "Tell me the reason why you and Mr. Sands were late to school today, Elijah."

"A Dweller tried to mug us this morning. He said he needed cash to leave Old Tenebris and when he refused, he attacked us."

Mr. Tinker thought over his rebuttal, stroking his invisible beard once again. He then hunched over and examined me, "You don't look hurt at all." He squinted forcefully; I almost thought his eyes would soar out of his head. When he was done scrutinizing me, he walked towards Wyatt, and did the same thing. "Wyatt, you don't seem hurt either."

"Are you kidding me?" Wyatt rolled his shirt sleeve up, revealing a discoloration in the shape of a blue ring. It was hard to see under his dark skin, but it was noticeable enough. There was no way he formed a bruise this morning, because I intercepted the only punch the Dweller threw. That reminded me: I needed to thank Wyatt later for keeping our little secret about today.

Still, when did he sustain that injury?

"Hm, he didn't put up much of a fight, did he?" pondered Mr. Tinker.

I decided to step in again, "My guess is he was only a Dweller for a short period of time. He said his wife kicked him out almost two weeks ago. After he punched Wyatt, he fell to the ground and grovelled for money."

"Almost two weeks? His conscience is nearly deteriorated, then. Nonetheless, you're telling me he broke free of his instincts for two strangers who he could have killed for money?"

"Is it that hard to believe?" I sank into my seat, and looked away from Mr. Tinker, "The world isn't as cruel and evil as everyone thinks it is."

"Evil and instinct are entirely different things. In some ways, the twilight is what protects us from such darkness, but in exchange, we endanger our—"

"Humanity." The word popped in my head like I knew the answer all my life. It was odd, but that word reverberated against my brain. The twilight is all I have ever known, and all I have ever known was human. What is the humanity that we had before the Solar Convergence?

"I see we have a philosopher in the class."

I wasn't sure if Mr. Tinker was speaking anymore. His voice had softened into a low murmur, and my vision began to blur. My muscles began to relax themselves, and my breathing slowed. Why was I so sleepy?

The room was spinning, and nausea began to overcome me. I felt something squeeze my arm. Was someone holding onto me? I couldn't think straight...and my eyes...couldn't...stay open...any more.