Servant by Matt Stuckey (most read books in the world of all time .txt) 📕

As the students funneled into the monastery like building that had been a second home to them for years, Fulmino looked over the place as usual.

Brick and limestone made up the sturdy walls, and gave the whole school a rather dismal feel. Many classroom periods had been spent counting the cracks on the walls in the windowless cell the school proclaimed a classroom.

While passing the Library, Fulmino paused and smiled, looking over what had been his sanctuary over the years. While good at sports, the other children had gone out of their way to ostracize him even while playing pegs or stickball.

At pegs he watched the leaders whisper instructions to their best throwers, pointing obviously in his direction, while in stickball he did not commit the time towards becoming skilled and thus was poorly equipped for playing boys that had obsessed over the game for years.

Fulmino shook his head, clearing away the poor memories of days long gone. Once again viewing the Library, he remembered the first time he had slunk in, nursing bruises from pegs and looking for a place to hide. Surprisingly, here was a seemingly abandoned room with many places to hide and a wealth of knowledge to be discovered.

Originally, Fulmino had thought it too good to be true, but eventually realized that very few had the inclination to enter the place because they were obsessed with their  endeavors of sports, gossip, or whatever it was kids at that age did.

A seemingly strange statement, until one realized that Fulmino was never included in these group activities that so many derived fulfillment from. Instead, Fulmino escaped into the world of paper and ink, forgetting his troubles for hours on end at times.

As the years went by, Fulmino was able to spend less of his time in the abandoned Library because of increased academic classes, but never forgot his secret sanctuary.

The only bitterness Fulmino felt in it all was the isolation that always plagued him throughout his life. At times over the years, he had considered cutting off his hair and becoming obsessed with stickball in order to fit the mold and make everyone happy. Chances are, doing those things would eventually make him a few “friends” and stop at least most of the cold shoulder he was used to receiving. In the end though, he always rejected these ideas of weakness.

If people couldn’t accept him for who he was, then he had no interest in them. His parents warned him that he was going to die alone and unhappy, that he was being stubborn to a fault, but he always tuned them out.

After all, what had going along with things ever gotten them? His father worked a job that was going to kill him before ten more winters passed, and his mother often dreamed of being a magical healer but would never have the opportunity because she tested negatively.

Fulmino paused in his thoughts, amused as he realized he was suffering from the same malady as his classmates. Instead of talking with those around him, his mind was working in overdrive in order to accommodate a self conversation to drive off tension.

Typical. Shaking his head in a mixture of amusement and disgust, Fulmino continued past the Library and into the main common room large enough to accommodate all of the students.

Nicknamed the grotto, the large room did indeed resemble a cave of sorts, with the masters and mistresses well representing ominous bats in their billowing cloaks of office.

Already, the noise was deafening as boys laughed and punched each other while girls giggled and talked in awed tones of their plans once they achieved their positive reading.

Fat chance, Fulmino smirked. Only the richly attired individuals in the front were guaranteed anything in this circus, and they made sure no one forgot it. Somehow, they managed to convey outward politeness with absolute contempt at the same time when addressed by the working class students.

Looking over his elite peers, Fulmino allowed disgust to frame his face clearly. There was one boy in particular that Fulmino hated, though they had never met before.

Flavius Draconis, an upper tiered elite whose father was a renowned professor at the magic academy, was in many ways a mirror of Fulmino. Fairly good looking with long hair and a charismatic attitude, there was no one Flavius could not charm.

Masters fell over themselves saying what an honor it was to have him in their class, and mistresses giggled like school girls when he complimented them. Flavius was the object of nearly every girl’s affection, both noble and common alike. He was always the center of favored glances and whispered words, though he remained aloof unless addressed by them specifically.

Perhaps most galling to Fulmino was the boys attitude towards him, since they gave him no end of grief about his own long hair. To the boys, Flavius was a god among insects, and he would often hold court with his cronies buzzing around him, currying for his favor.

These same boys who had targeted him mercilessly over the years for his differences fawned over the same traits in Flavius. Though Fulmino knew nothing about the boy, he hated him passionately just the same for his ability to be himself and be admired for it.

All eyes turned to the front as the Headmaster began one of his long winded speeches about the importance of the day and the great privilege it was for all to have the opportunity to test for magic.

Fulmino did not bother restraining his eye roll this time. Some opportunity. In one of his many ventures to the Library years ago, Fulmino had chanced across a book not covered with dust for a change. 

It had a gold binding and was the largest book he had found to date. Opening it, Fulmino discovered a comprehensive record of past classes, updated to the previous years’ graduation.

In Silver were written the names of the Elite positive candidates, whereas plain black suited the few names of common birth. Most interesting though was the distinction of silver names in the tested negative category.

Apparently, such misfits were rare and considered a great embarrassment to the noble families they hailed from. Fulmino snorted. He guessed they would just have to settle for living lavishly the rest of their lives and doing nothing in exchange for staying out of the public eye. Real hardship that.

Finally, Fulmino tuned back in as the testing had actually begun after many minutes of shuffling feet. All candidates were required to stand for the duration of the ceremony, which had lasted over two hours some years.

Every year began with the nobles, as was their “right” apparently. Of course, the truth was that noble families considered their children’s affirmation to be the only real substance to the ceremony, so they demanded it happen first and foremost of course.

A young noble was being examined by the watchers now as everyone watching held their breath. It was a positive test. The hall erupted in cheering as the girl stepped off the platform with a satisfied smirk. The watchers whispered amongst themselves as the next noble in line headed their way.

The watchers were a unique priesthood dedicated to the furtherance of magic, and conducted all the testing for schools. Fulmino had never been impressed with the watchers, despite their high prestige.

Fulmino had not entered the monastery to see what they did all day, but he would wager it involved copious amounts of wine, food and women. Such behavior would explain their enormous girth and bleary eyes. He was sure that under the hood they looked the same as always, but were careful enough to not show it their one day of actual work per year.

The nobles continued to pass the tests one by one until they reached a boy who looked decidedly more nervous than any of the nobles had yet.

He had barely reached the three watchers before they thundered in unison, “Negative!”

The boy’s family looked on with faces devoid of emotion, as if they were watching someone they didn’t know up on the stage. Fulmino shuddered.

For once in his life, he might actually feel sorry for a noble. The crowd was filled with low murmurs until the last of the nobles started testing positive again, and the incident was forgotten.

Last to go was Flavius. He was the only noble to receive a standing ovation before and after receiving his positive status and joining his peers. Fulmino found Flavius increasingly revolting the more he saw him.

Go figure.

The nobles and their families left the hall as the commoners ceremony began.

As with everything else, the nobles were first to finish and received the best position when all was said and done.As front row seats were vacated, the ceremony continued on with little enthusiasm.

No claps were made as more students were tested negatively; the mood of the room was dismal.

Hope, which mere hours ago had seemed so tangible to the chattering students, now disappeared in the face of grim reality. Many students were now sweating as they watched the hung heads of the already disqualified, many of the girls crying softly as their dreams went up in flames.

Fulmino could not help but watch the whole scene with pity, even after all the cruelty and indifference he had suffered at their hands through the years.

What was it they had expected? That THEY would be special? That even though the odds were completely against them, it would all be exactly as they dreamed.

He snorted softly. Reality for them would no longer involve countless hours playing stickball, gossiping or whatever it was that they had done all these years. They would not be gaining nobility and prestige for themselves and their families. Big surprise.

There was suddenly a roar of clapping and cheers that made Fulmino jump.

So, it looked like one of the lucky few had been chosen. Good for him. The boy in question was at least someone who had never specifically bothered Fulmino, so he wished him the best.

The boy quickly skirted past the long line of rejected applicants as fast as he could without running. Fulmino almost laughed; the degree of pure hatred in the faces of those who had already seen their dreams die was comical to him.

As the students continued to present themselves to the watchers, even the few positives selected were cheered less and less as the negatively tested group of sullen students grew.

Fulmino realized with a start that it was his turn, and headed towards the watchers. Though he did have some nervousness, he knew how this would turn out. Walking up to the watchers, he pasted a sarcastic grin on his face which they did not appreciate, so accustomed were they to the trembling awe usually directed their way. Seeing in their face that his fate was as he thought, he was already headed to the negative group when they pronounced the word simultaneously

“Negative”

Fulmino didn’t even turn around.

For once, the group of peers did not sneer at him; they were too intent crying or looking at the ground with a shocked look on their faces.

Fulmino shuffled with his shocked peers as they were led out of the building and told to come in the morning for further testing, and they were assigned to their new trade.

Slowly, everyone began their journey home with dead eyes and cold faces stung by the harsh reality of their circumstances.

Everyone except for Fulmino that is.

While not happy that he would probably die in the mines at fifty as his father would, Fulmino took it in stride.

One thing that life had taught him in hard lessons over the years was that if you expected nothing, then it would come as no great surprise when life