I’m going to enter.
Tobias jumped from his bed and bolted from the cottage. His heart pounded, inciting him to move quickly, the rampant beating keeping pace with the slapping of his bare feet against the dirt road. He didn’t bother to look behind him; perhaps his mother had followed him out the door, was screaming his name, though he heard nothing but his own war-drum heartbeat thumping behind his ears, and for that he was grateful.
Dread swelled in his gut. The sky was only barely pink at the horizon; night was falling, and the pool would soon end. He sprinted down the hillside, his legs numb with adrenaline. How much time did he have? And the pool was how many miles away? None of it mattered. He would run the entire distance.
Tobias charged into town, his attention split between the road ahead and the darkening sky. With each passing minute, the air around him became the slightest bit cooler, heavier, and blacker; the pool was likely over, but Tobias kept going, hoping it had perhaps gone on longer than usual, that they would make an exception for him. It wasn’t long before weakness threatened to ruin him; he was tired and starving, his body morphing into a puddle of sweat, his knees ready to give. Then memories of Naomi’s screams ripped through his mind, and he sprinted ahead, faster and faster, until the Ceres fountain was finally in sight.
The mob of men had disappeared, the tents spotted with glowing lanterns. Most of the servants were gone, save for one woman gathering her scrolls, preparing to leave. Tobias hurtled toward her.
“Wait!”
The woman flinched as Tobias skidded to a halt, kicking up a cloud of dust with his feet. He planted his hands on his knees, taking in gasping breath after breath and fighting for composure that never came.
“Is it too late to enter?”
***
Tobias sat on the wooden bench and stared down at his hands. He had been waiting in that tent for hours; the servants were likely occupied with other entrants, ones who actually made it to the pool on time, and he took the stretch of silence as an opportunity to mentally berate himself. His feet were raw and swollen from running, but he figured he deserved the pain. Being there was the most idiotic decision he had ever made. It was also the most necessary.
The tent flap flung open, and a servant glided inside, a parchment scroll and an ink-tipped reed in hand. She was tall and mature, perhaps ten years older than him, with black curls tied at her nape and tawny skin the color of desert sand. Tobias sat quietly, waiting for her to do something, but she simply stared at her unrolled scroll.
“Name?” she said.
“Tobias Kaya.”
“Age?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Right.” She scribbled on her scroll as she spoke. “Disrobe.”
“Disrobe?”
“Yes.” She nodded at a nearby stool. “You can put your clothes over there.”
“All of them?”
“I need to examine you.” Her tone was sharp and piqued. “Disrobe.”
Tobias’s gaze flitted between the stool, his lap, and the woman still staring at her parchment. With a sigh, he pulled his shirt overhead, then slid his pants past his ankles, tossing them aside and cupping his crotch for the sheer sake of modesty.
The woman glanced his way, her expression indifferent, and cocked her head at the side of the tent. “Over here. So I can get your height.”
“And I need to be naked for you to figure my height?”
The woman pursed her lips, and Tobias reluctantly obeyed, still clutching his balls as if he were holding on to his last shred of dignity. The woman plucked a spool of yarn from her pocket, dragging it from Tobias’s feet to the top of his head.
“You’re not especially tall, only slightly taller than average.” She wrapped the yarn around his chest, his arms, making note of the measurements. “You’re thin… Not skinny, but certainly not robust.”
“I’m strong.”
“Yes, I see that.” Her gaze danced over his body. “Defined arms and shoulders. Strong abdomen. Your legs—lean but sturdy.” She prodded at his chest, checking the firmness of his muscles. “Still, robust is preferred. For obvious reasons.”
Before Tobias could speak, she ran her hand through his hair, softly at first, then hard, tugging at the roots. “Your hair is thick. Any baldness in your family?”
“Not that I know of,” Tobias said.
She ran a finger down his arm, sending goose bumps springing from his skin. “You’re quite tan. Laborer?”
“Yes.”
“Hm. Unfortunate.”
She turned to face him, looking him straight in the eye. For a second he felt at ease before her, as if she was finally acknowledging his humanity, but the far-off look of her gaze revealed she was studying him. Still.
“Are your eyes black?”
“Almost. They’re dark brown but they”—he watched as she circled his body—“look…black. What are you doing?”
The woman didn’t respond, poking his butt cheek before scrawling across her scroll. She nodded at his groin. “Unhand your nethers.”
Tobias faltered. “Excuse me?”
She pulled her yarn from her pocket. “Measurements.”
“You have to measure my—”
“Unhand your nethers, sir. We’re on a rather tight schedule.”
Tobias wavered, looking back and forth between the yarn and the woman. God, just kill me. After what felt like hours of hesitation, he dropped his hands and gazed upward, flinching when the woman grabbed at his parts and wishing some divine power would smite him where he stood.
“It’s not like it’s…alert right now.”
“We’ll make do.” She pocketed her yarn. “Sit.”
“Can I put on my—?”
“Sit.”
Tobias did as he was told, cupping his crotch once again. The woman jotted a string of text onto her parchment—what she could possibly be writing, he hadn’t a clue—and spoke between scribbles.
“I’ll be asking you a few personal questions now.”
“I thought that’s what we were already doing.”
The woman cast a critical look his way. “Are you currently married or betrothed to another?”
“No. Why would I be here if I was?”
“Happens more than you’d think.” She unrolled the parchment farther. “Any children?”
“No.”
“Do you want children?”
Tobias shrugged. “I suppose so.”
“You suppose so?”
“I mean, one day,” he said. “With the right woman.”
“Which brings me to my next question: do you desire the opposite sex?”
“Excuse me?”
“Women. Do you want to fuck women?”
He hesitated. “Wait… You mean multiple women?”
“You misunderstand.” She lowered her scroll. “Do you find yourself lusting for women…as opposed to men?”