The Arcane Inspector

Before those "who can see" formally set foot in the academy, someone comes to them first. They call themselves arcane inspectors, and they hide behind the most ordinary of signboards:

Jiang Wanxin
City Youth Mind-Body Support Center
Zhongxin New-Intake Branch · Counsellor

The Center is on the second floor of an old three-storey apartment block; downstairs is a shop selling handmade canvas bags, and the stairwell is tiled in old beige. Inside are three waiting chairs, a low table, a few free health-education pamphlets, and on the wall two posters printed with the standard certification marks. In the corner of the posters there is one small device more that is not on the certification list: a circle, with a gap between the three- and four-o'clock marks. In the lower right corner of the pamphlet cover is a white stamp reading 16, while the official batch number of the city's youth health-education pamphlets runs to six digits. On the low table there is also a bronze bell the size of half a fist, worn smooth.

What they hand over is a "Rapid Concussion Assessment Form", with the standard columns: dizziness, nausea, memory, vision, hearing, cognition. Turn it over, and the 5 fields on the back are the ones that are really to be filled in:

1　Toward　○
2　Move　○
3　Echo　○
4　Scatter　○
5　Commune　○

The 5 fields answer to 5 questions, and what they measure is which lineages the subject can register. Eyes closed, he is asked which direction in this room the sound is coming from—one answered north by east, where in fact there was no sound. A candle is lit and he is asked whether the fire is any different—the tip of the flame leaned to the left, and there was no wind in the room. A sheet is handed over with writing on it that looks like Sanskrit and is not quite, and he is not asked whether he recognises it, only which sound rises in him. A small heap of fine sand is poured onto the grain of the wood and left to run by itself. Last, the bronze bell is struck once with a bronze rod and he is asked what he heard—what he should hear is the extremely faint low drum half a beat behind the bell.

The marks go down one by one on the back of the paper. When they have found someone who can see, they put the test sheet away face down, more carefully than anything else on the table, and leave behind a pale cream card edged with a fine line of gold:

You have passed the preliminary test. Tomorrow morning, please check the mailbox at your home.

On the inside of their collars is pinned a small badge that cannot normally be seen—a circle with a gap between the three- and four-o'clock marks. Before 09:00 the next day, an admission notice with no traceable return address will be lying in that person's mailbox; if it is not collected, it disappears of its own accord after noon, as though it had never been sent.