Scorio paused. The three of them were staring intently at him, reading his every emotion. Heart pounding, he felt himself flush, then decided not to bother hiding his anger. “No. I’m a Cinder. I knew I had two options: aggravate her and be destroyed, or tell her what she wanted to hear and remain conscious. I don’t know anything about Ettera, or why we should want the Portal opened or not. What I do know about is my friends, and helping them survive was my greatest priority. Letting her destroy Bastion didn’t seem like the best way to do that.”
“Fair,” said Wrack. “Please continue.”
Scorio took a settling breath and did so; repeated the events as they happened, right to his striking at her Ferula when he managed to break free of her control.
“How did that happen, exactly?” asked Selena. “You broke the mental control of an Imperator?”
Her skepticism was wildly and politely understated.
“I had a potion with me,” he said. “Concentrated Black Star syrup. About equal to a weak Gold elixir. Her focus was completely on Sol. When I drank it, I momentarily had the ability to snap the leash she’d placed on me. A leash I think she’d fashioned to control a Cinder, not what I temporarily became.”
Gelegos made a mildly incredulous face, as if he’d taken a taste of dog excrement and found it to be delicious. “That’s very impressive. Where did you come across this syrup?”
“A friend of mine made it,” said Scorio. “I’d started a Black Star farm. She took the raw materials and distilled the result.”
“Impressive,” said Selena, her tone final, her expression approving. “You are clearly a resourceful individual. Please excuse this line of questioning. You are a Red Lister, with all that means, and we’re considering sponsoring despite that. You can understand why we’d want to plumb those matters.”
“Sure,” allowed Scorio.
“You were cast through the Final Door, were you not?” asked Wrack, tone disinterested. “Can you tell us how you survived that sentence?”
Scorio nodded slowly, wanting to indicate agreement even as he let his feelings fall into place. He should have known they’d want to examine every dark corner of his reputation. “It’s a simple story. I escaped more due to luck than anything else.” And he told them, about Sal and his mechanism, the Brass Door, Ravert’s corpse. His subsequent explorations and eventual escape.
“Resourceful is putting it lightly,” said Selena. “I am most impressed, Scorio. You demonstrated as Char the wit and quick thinking we hope to see in a Tomb Spark. Very impressive. You claim that many of your past successes can be attributed to luck, but that modesty fails to convince when your accomplishments are considered cumulatively. Now, normally we request a series of brief tests to judge your mettle, but having seen you fight only half an hour ago, we can waive a number of those. However, would you be willing to let us examine the state of your Igneous Heart, both to gauge your potential and current health?”
Scorio felt his chest tighten but smiled. “Of course. Though, ah, having had to, um, take my own education in hand out in the ruins, I’ve been forced to push myself pretty hard. It’s one of the reasons I’m excited to acquire patronage.”
“Of course,” said Selena with a professional smile. “I understand completely. If you would face Recruiter Gelegos? He will tell us what we need to know.”
Scorio turned to face the languid, leonine man, who smiled at him in a befuddled manner and reached out to place the tips of his fingers on Scorio’s knee.
Nothing happened, and then Scorio felt a shiver pass over him as Gelegos’s gaze sharpened and became a piercing stare. For a moment, Scorio felt like a translucent sheet of glass, his every secret exposed, then Gelegos sighed and retracted his touch.
He took his time turning back to face the table and reached up to adjust his spectacles where they sat upon the bridge of his nose. “Not good, I’m afraid,” he said at last.
“I’m aware of how I’ve damaged my Heart—” began Scorio, but Selena raised a hand and cut him off.
“Continue,” she said to Gelegos.
He sighed. “Numerous problems. The first and most obvious is a slight degree of Heart burn-off. I’d rate it merely at level one, but…”
“To have any degree in a Cinder is an ill omen,” said Wrack. “Indicates a personality that is volatile, impatient, and reckless.”
Scorio bit down on his words, forced himself to wait.
“Second,” continued Gelegos, “his Heart has a moderate degree of fracturing. I’d rate his mana retention to about sixty percent; I noticed highly developed signs of caustic deterioration from within, no doubt to his extensive use of Coal mana and consumption of unrefined Black Star elixirs.”
“Sixty percent,” said Selena, tone grave.
Scorio’s heart sank.
“However,” said Gelegos, tone turning bright, “this is offset by a remarkable depth to his Heart; I doubt he’s anywhere close to his First Trial, but already I’d wager his capacity is at a fifteen or twenty. While this has no doubt been enhanced by his unrestrained consumption of potent mana, it also indicates a naturally potent Heart.”
“Worth checking with the Crystal Gauge?” asked Wrack, raising an eyebrow. “Not that I’m doubting your rating.”
“I’d never dream that you would,” said Gelegos, beaming at Wrack with apparent sincerity. “But yes, I’d be curious to evaluate him with the Gauge. Finally, for one who has progressed without assistance from the Academy, his Heart demonstrates remarkable reactivity; given its depth, this is a necessity, or he’d never have achieved ignition outside of these halls.”
“Interesting,” said Selena, nodding with grudging approval. “And a fine set of counterpoints. The Gauge, then?”
“The Gauge it is,” said Gelegos, rising to his feet and turning to a heavy black case that rested on a shelf behind him.
“A fifteen or a twenty,” said Scorio uncertainly. “Is that good?”
“Context is everything,” said Selena. “For an Emberling? Average to poor. For a Cinder? Above average, if they were on the verge of their First Trial. You, however, are far from it, which is quite exciting.”
Gelegos unsnapped the locks and opened the lid, revealing a black velvet interior formed around the objects contained within. With precise, tranquil movements, the recruiter withdrew and set up a tripod, upon whose apex he affixed a clear gem the size of his fist.
“This is an expensive toy that we acquired at some cost,” he said softly, leaning down to plug a metallic tube of delicate gold mesh to the underside of the crystal.
“By all the hells, don’t call it a toy,” said Selena in resigned exasperation.
Gelegos continued as if he hadn’t heard. “The crystal is the heart of an Attenuation Spider, a rather nasty predator from the Endless Ravines. It acts as a conduit, allowing Great Soul A to pour mana into Great Soul B. There.” The tube clicked into place, and he sat up to smile at Scorio. “The crystal shifts color as it channels ever more continuous mana. We can thus judge a Great Soul’s capacity to draw on mana by how far along the spectrum he can cause the crystal to shift.”
“And the source of the mana?” asked Scorio.
“I will provide,” said Gelegos with great humility, placing his hand to his chest. “You need but focus on directing the mana that will enter you via this cup”—he raised a hemisphere attached to the end of the metallic tube—“into your Heart. Don’t overdo it—we need to know your comfort level, not your extreme maximum.”
“Understood,” said Scorio, taking the cup and pulling it toward him. The gold mesh extended and narrowed as it pulled, making the tube ever slenderer. “Against my chest?”
“Just so,” said Gelegos. “Is your Heart empty?”