That Special Person

Okay… I’m sat in an exam hall… the paper is blank… this is a contest between investigators… the vigils didn’t tell us what the exam was about… the only instruction they gave is that we can’t talk…

A light bulb went off in my head. When laid out like that, the facts seemed to point in one direction: The goal of this trial is to uncover information. This is set up like a standard exam, so the answer must be a question. Therefore, there’s a question written around here, somewhere.

I checked to see if the invigilators were paying attention. They were. Regardless, I stealthily glanced around. Some of the contestants looked confused, others were deep in thought and others yet were writing. The guy to my right was writing up an entire essay. Erin sat to my left with her eyes closed. She seemed lost in her own world.

Are we allowed to stand up? Talk to the invigilators? They never specified, though maybe those are too obvious. But then why would they tell us we can’t talk, when that’s also obvious? No, shut up, they did that back in school, too!

Hold on, are these actually exam papers? They never said so. In fact, they never even told us to sit down. Is there an answer on this paper?

A thorough examination of the sheet on my desk revealed nothing. I screamed internally. I was completely stumped. Over the next five minutes, a few other contestants left the exam hall.

Maybe they already gave us the question?

I ran through the prince’s speeches, the contest posters and the invigilator’s statement as best as I could. The only question I could remember was the invigilator asking “ready?”

Should I just write yes? I wondered. And then, I had a peculiar thought. No, surely it couldn’t be so stupid… right? I quickly scribbled something down and folded up my test so that no one else could copy my answer. Then, I closed my eyes and prayed to whoever was listening that I wasn’t making a grave error.

***

A bell rung loudly from the front, signalling the conclusion to the exam. We were ordered to drop everything and stand behind our desks.

“The invigilators are going to walk around and check all of your tests. If they tear up your paper, it means you have failed,” the head invigilator announced.

*rrriiip*

*scrunch*

Papers were being destroyed left and right. Reactions ranged from light head shaking to barrages of insults. An invigilator approached Erin. He unfolded her test. The man barely gave it a glance, before he heartlessly tore it in half and balled it up into his fists.

I was next up.

The invigilator took a step towards me. He didn’t even look me in the eye, as he picked up my paper and carelessly unfolded it. He read my answer, and then…

Placed the unfolded sheet back onto my desk. “Well done,” he muttered, before moving onto my neighbour.

“What did you put?” Erin asked, genuinely intrigued.

We both looked down at my paper. It simply read: “I am a dreamer.”

“I don’t get it,” she admitted.

“Outside, the prince told us that only a special type of person can pass. Inside, he went on about dreamers. Dreamers pass,” I explained. It was such an absurd trial. I couldn’t believe I’d been right!

“What? That’s ridiculous,” Erin protested. “This was clearly testing your ability to uncover information!”

“It was. But it was also testing your attention to detail,” I explained.

After twenty minutes of standing, the results were in:

“Out of the 489 contestants present here today, only 112 of you have passed the first trial!” announced the head invigilator.

112? That’s higher than I thought… Either I’m stupid, or these are some serious competitors…

I turned to face Erin. “Listen, Erin. You may have failed, but there’s something just as important for you to do.”

***

“Ma’am! Ma’am!” a frantic voice cried out from behind us. We turned around. A young, bearded man stood before us, with his hands on his knees. He took a moment to regain his breath. “My lady, please,” he gasped. “I was meant to stop you at the exam hall, but you slipped away!”

“What is it?” Erin asked.

“Ma’am, the prince urgently wishes for your presence,” he declared.

“The prince? What does he want with me?” Erin asked, feigning ignorance. We had both seen the way he had paused on her during his speech.

“Ma’am, he prefers to give you the reason himself,” the messenger said.

*clip, clop, clip, clop*

A horse appeared behind the messenger. We all bowed our heads. “Prince Augustin,” the messenger greeted the rider.

The prince clambered off his horse. He didn’t even calculate me; his eyes were so focused on Erin. “My fair, fair lady, oh how I have longed for you this past hour! I implore you, sit with me for dinner tonight,” the prince requested.

Erin awkwardly smiled. “That would be amazing!” she exclaimed. She sounded so enthusiastic, I almost forgot she was doing this for the investigation. “Did you hear that, Kugo? I’m going on a date with a prince!” she exclaimed.

“A-a-a date?” stammered the prince. His face had turned a fiery red. “Why, yes, I suppose it is.” The prince smiled at me. “Sorry, my friend, I hope I’m not stealing your lady?” he asked with zero interest. And so, I gave a zero-interest shrug. The prince turned back to Erin. “My lady, where do you live, so I can send someone for you?”

I was uncomfortable with the idea of the rulers of this country knowing where we were staying, but we didn’t have a choice. Erin told him the name of the hotel. The prince thanked her and rode off.

***

I rode to the building the invigilators had indicated previously. It was a small clock tower. Again, we hadn’t been told what the trial was. I was stopped by the guards at the entrance.

“Name and ID,” one of them requested.

“Sato Kugo,” I replied, showing them my investigator’s license.

They scanned a list of names. “Good, go inside,” they beckoned.

The entrance hall was bare, with incredibly tall ceilings. There were dozens of people standing around. “Excuse me, are you here for the second trial of the Grand Investigator Competition?” I asked one of them. He confirmed.

I analysed the competition. All of them had passed the first round, so they were probably all competent minds. Some of them looked the part, like the guy I’d just spoken to. He wore glasses and a pressed suit. He had an air of preciseness about him, that advertised that no detail went unnoticed. However, others looked like thugs and muscleheads, who couldn’t think their way off a couch. For example, the young man with the scowl and the fiery red hair. He wore a dark red waistcoat over a white buttoned shirt. His pants matched his waistcoat and his thick, black boots looked like they were made for stomping. He appeared to be in the middle of a mild argument with another competitor. I kept looking around for anyone else that stood out.

A tall, muscular man with a nasty scar across his chiselled jaw. His appearance reminded me of Joseph Hollowfield, the city guard leader back in Boneview. However, the man I was currently observing radiated an authentic sense of confidence and control. I couldn’t see him screwing up a simple case.

A middle-aged man missing the hair at the top of his head. He wore a white, buttoned shirt and dress pants with matching dress shoes. He stood out to me, because of how unremarkable he looked. I was tickled to note that he even held the standard salaryman briefcase.

A young man with black hair and noticeable eyebags. He sat against a wall in his plain, black t-shirt, golden belt and baggy, grey pants. He wore dirty, white socks in tattered, black slides. He was observing the competition, too.

A man with thick, vintage welding goggles, a top hat and a semi-formal attire. A cap drooped behind him. I realised that I hadn’t seen that ridiculous, steampunk style as much, since leaving Boneview. Had this man travelled from as far Erin and I? If he did so just for this competition, then he was definitely a serious opponent.

A few more contestants caught my eye, though it might have just been their appearances. For example, I was definitely attracted to the voluptuous, dark skinned woman with braided hair and plump lips. She sported what looked to be a black and white butler’s uniform, complete with a butler hat. She had a mean look in her eye that advertised discipline and suspicion.

Speaking of women I was drawn to; here was another one. She was slender in her padded and practical adventuring outfit. She wore a dark brown cloak with the hood down, so I could see her features. Long, straight, black hair, thin nose, full lips. Her expression was haughty and self-assured, though something behind her thin, wolf-like eyes spoke of a perpetual longing.

The entrance doors slammed shut. “Ladies and gentlemen!” announced a voice. We turned to face the front of the entrance hall. The voice came from a man on stage, with a loudspeaker to his mouth. “Welcome to the second day of the Grand Investigator Contest! If you are here today, it means that you understood that yesterday’s trial was about uncovering information! Well, today’s trial is about applying information! You will be tested on your reasoning skills and decision-making abilities! I will now explain the rules of the game!”