Disclaimer: I do not
own the scythe characters and setting. All rights belong to Neal Shusterman. No
copyright intended. For entertainment purposes only.
Spoilers ahead!
Where Mortals Don’t Belong
Citrus
Aldrin and Nelson Kant get sent forward in time to Midmerica.
Nelson:
“Where are we?” *Looks down at a machine that spews smoke and briefly sparks.
The date says 2045* “Oh scythe! The time machine’s broken!”
Citrus:
“How are we going to get back?”
Nelson:
“How should I know? Do I look like an engineer?”
Citrus:
“No, you look like the idiot who wanted to go to the future to become a
superhero!”
Nelson:
“Oh sure, that’s more dangerous than you wanting to stomp among the dinosaurs.”
Citrus:
“You just can’t appreciate the greatness that is Jurassic Park!”
*They
look around and spot a large building with columns in the city of Fulcrum.
People cheer as scythes in robes of many colors greet the crowd.
Citrus:
“Wow, look at this place! It reminds me of ancient Rome!”
Nelson:
“Holy Shusterman! We must be in one of his books! It’s the Scythe one!”
Citrus:
“How do you know?”
Nelson:
“You were the one who was reading it while we were in the time machine.”
Citrus:
“Could that be a reason we traveled here?”
Nelson:
“I don’t know, but Dr. Who would be so mad right now.”
*The
two friends merge with the crowd and hear the names of the characters.*
Nelson:
“That’s so cool that many of the scythes are named after mathematicians and
philosophers! Hey, are you people gods or super humans?”
Citrus:
“Nelson! You can’t ask people those things! We will get noticed and not in a
good way.”
Nelson:
*Looks ahead* “You can say that again.”
*An
older scythe in an ivory robe notices them and walks towards them away from the
other scythes.* “You two! Follow me, hurry.”
*They
move towards a quieter area, protected by a building wall.*
Faraday:
“To answer your question, we are not gods, but we can live long lives and
reverse our ages. The Thunderhead provides all the knowledge of this perfect
world. Who are you and where did you come from?”
Citrus:
“Well, time wise or biologically? We came…”
Nelson:
*interrupts* “Is your world really so perfect though? Sounds kind of boring to
me.”
Faraday:
“Don’t let the other scythes hear you say that!”
Citrus:
“Or what? They will ‘glean’ us, or will it be by random choice?”
Faraday:
*Looks around nervously* “Listen, both of you must be careful here. I don’t
know how you know about this world, but I want to make sure that you are
protected until we can figure out how to get you back, but not all scythes are
as nice as I am. Until then, you must blend in as much as possible.”
Citrus:
“Sounds easy enough. *Moves her body slowly and speaks in monotone voice* “Good
day citizens. I am your friend Cirtus 2.0, age 30, 80% Caucasiod, 15% Afric,
and 5% Pleidian. Mortality? What’s that?”
Nelson:
*Joins in* “Why of course I want to be a part of your murdering, Sycthedom
cult! I shall glean unworthy people based on random criteria that makes so much
sense! I will dazzle in golden robes, be a weapons expert, and shall learn more
fighting moves than a Super Saiyan!”
Faraday:
*facepalms* *Grabs hold of both of their shirts. “Are you young mortals? How in
Xenocrates name did you get here?!”
Citrus:
“How do you know we are mortals?”
Faraday:
“You two seem to have knowledge of the Age of Mortality that none of us can
fully grasp. There are mortals here, but very few. Your knowledge could change
this world…and that’s what makes you a threat.”
*People
walking by start whispering* “Who are those kids?” “Are they apprentices?” “How
dare those mortals interact with a scythe!”
Faraday:
“In addition, you two are young teens, while the rest of the mortals are older.
How did you reset your age that far?”
Nelson:
“I am a thousand years old, and I reset my age back to 17!”
Faraday:
“You are lying, I know it. No one has lived to be a thousand years old and the
youngest age we can set back to is twenty.”
Citrus:
*Punches Nelson in the arm* “Nice going, dumbass. You obviously didn’t read the
book well enough back at home!”
Faraday:
“What book? Are you on drugs or something? Oh wait, there are no drugs here.
You know what, I suggest you two leave at once!”
Nelson:
“We can’t leave unless we can get the time machine fixed!”
Faraday: Oh
no! Does the Thunderhead know about this? If it did…
Faraday:
“I never thought I would say this to anyone, but you two are going to get
yourselves killed. Unlike the rest of us, you two are not connected to the
Thunderhead and you have no healing robots in your system. If you die here,
then there is no telling what will happen back in your time.”
*Dead
silence*
Nelson:
“Okay, this is a nice world and all, but I think we should be going back
before…”
Goddard:
“Hey, you three! What’s going on?”
*A
group of elite scythes stride over to where they stand. One has an orange robe
with rubies, one has a green robe with emeralds, and one has a golden robe. The
leader has a blue robe adorned with diamonds. They walk with arrogance and
display extravagance.*
The
leader spoke first:
Goddard:
“What are you all dong out here? You should be going upstairs for the next
conclave meeting.
Faraday
spoke with distaste in evident in his tone. “It’s nothing Goddard. I just
needed some fresh air.”
Goddard:
“You are missing out on the chatter, the food, and the cheers of the crowd!” *Goddard
extended out his hand where his diamond ring stood. There was a peculiar
darkness that moved in the center, like an eye leading to unknown depths. The
crowd reached over to kiss the ring, granting them immunity from death by the
scythes for another year. Goddard looked suspiciously at Citrus and Nelson.*
Goddard:
Who are the two kids with you, Faraday?
Faraday:
These two got really excited to see me, and I was telling them to move along.
Chomsky
in the orange robe muttered: “More like taking their time with their talking.”
Randa
in the green robe spat, “Are they mortals? They look like they don’t belong
here. We should glean them right away!”
Volta
in yellow held her arm back. “Not here in front of the crowd. We don’t want to
lose our reputation.”
Chomsky:
“Our reputation is excellent as it is, and we can expand it further!
Goddard:
“We should get going soon. Are those your apprentices, Faraday?”
A
brief silence follows. “Yes they are,” he lied. “I offered them apprenticeship,
but they declined, of course.”
Nelson
was about to say something, but Citrus elbowed him. “Oh yes! Learning how to
glean is the last thing we want to do.” It was true that both of them did not
want to be apprentices to a stranger in a strange world. Which made them
perfect candidates for apprentices.
Goddard:
“Getting two apprentices in one day? How impressive.” He said it with as much
enthusiasm as a blank wall. “Let’s go.”
Volta:
“Kiss his ring if you kids want to live.” The scythes leave.
Citrus
reached for his hand, but Faraday pulled his hand back. “No! If you kiss it,
the Thunderhead will find out you are not from the world and that will put you
in danger.”
Nelson:
“But I thought people hundreds of years old could reverse their ages.”
Faraday:
“They can, but I have a feeling that you can’t. You two are from the Age of
Mortality.” They walked up the stairs toward the conclave. “Keep still and
don’t look anyone in the eye,” Faraday said, still staring straight ahead.
Faraday reached into his pocket and pulled out two pocket knives, passing them
quickly to Nelson and Citrus.
Faraday:
“These weapons are for self-protection. No one is allowed to have weapons
except scythes and their apprentices. Stay close to me, don’t cause any trouble
and we will see if we can get the tools we need to get you back.”
Nelson:
Thank you…um, what is your name?”
Faraday:
“’Your Honor’ is the most appropriate name for right now, for the sake of your
safety.”
Citrus
and Nelson: “Yes, Your Honor.”
They
made their way up the stairs, past the nervous faces of the other apprentices.
Faraday:
“There will be a test for the apprentices to take. There will be questions on
gleaning methods, types of weapons, and potential situations. If you fail, you
will be sent back to me to be disciplined and we can go find some tools.”
Nelson:
“Are you saying that you…expect us to fail?”
The
doors creaked open before Faraday could reply.
