Chapter 1: The Day Before

Sherlock

Taking a sharp breath, I open my eyes only to squint at the bright light shining through my window. I slowly peel my face off a page of my textbook, I must have fallen asleep studying again. Even with school over, I can't help but engross myself in what ever information I can find available at the library; only problem is that everyone else has the same urges.

Rubbing some crust off my face I stand taking a minute to let my body adjust to my newly awaken state. My limbs hang heavily as if gravity got heavier over night. How late did I stay up?

Then I remember, the aptitude test is tomorrow. I'm not nervous about it as many others are, I already know what my result will be. No one doubts I will be erudite, not even strangers on the street. I at least hope some of that is because of my behaviour, not solely based on who my brother is.

Mycroft Holmes, leader of erudite, royalty in the eyes of our faction. Yet a royal pain in mine. No one would expect anything less than textbook erudite from Mycroft Holmes or his little brother, especially coming from the same strange family. We may be cut from the same cloth, but we are not so similar; I'm the smarter one.

I get dressed and make my bed as an instinct. White button-down shirt lays lose against my chest and pressed black pants don't add anything to my form. A simple tie fulfills the requirement to wear something blue, but I leave my fake spectacles on my desk. I've never understood the look, it adds nothing to one's intelligence; only serves an aesthetic purpose that's been deemed a necessity by our faction.

Walking down the stairs, the sweet aroma of breakfast hits the back of my throat causing my mouth to water. My mother, amity born, enjoys cooking more than the average person; and the next few days are supposed to be very stressful for me. Little does she know this may be one of the last times she cooks for me.

I don't know what I will pick, it never felt like an option to be anything else but erudite. I definitely belong here to erudite standards; I'm always searching for information and have immense intelligence, but I feel like I've learned everything I can from this faction. If I spend the rest of my life here, I will be reliant on the income of new information which is never a sure thing. I need to go somewhere mentally stimulating enough so I don't get bored.

"Have a good night's rest son?" My father, erudite born, says cheerfully while reading the morning paper. My father barely passed erudite initiation despite being naturally smart. My mother was the top of her class and went on to write books about mathematics.

I nod and my mother puts down a steaming plate of food in front of me, she ruffles my hair. "You need a hair cut," she says and pulls back my hair, kissing my forehead.

"My hair is fine," I say blandly.

"Don't forget your brother wishes to see you this morning, I suggest you comb your hair back."

I nibble on a bit of French toast suddenly losing my appetite at the thought of going to see Mycroft. There are times where I can tolerate him, but two days before the choosing ceremony won't be one of them. He probably only wants to see me to explain everything that will be happening and how he shouldn't need to explain how to react, yet he will.

"I don't comb my hair for Mycroft Holmes," I say getting up with a squeak of a chair. "I assume he already has a car waiting?" Once glance outside proves my hypothesis, a slick black car waits in front of our house.

"Wait!" My mom hollers as I put my hand on the door knob. Rushing over she attempts to smooth my wild hair at least to the point where it's out of my eyes. "Where are your glasses?"

"In my room," I say swatting her hands away.

"Aren't you going to get them?"

"Nope," I say quickly leaving before she can argue.

Outside, the sun blazes into my eyes burning bright lights into my eyelids. I barely close the door of the car before the driver speeds off. Buildings of clean white and glass flash past me too fast to comprehend, but I know exactly where I am.

I've been down this road so many times I have every inch memorized. I could walk these streets blind folded and still make it to my destination safe and sound. It gets rather boring living the same life in the same place everyday, nothings ever new except for the information you learn; but even that runs out eventually.

As I arrive at Mycroft's mansion of a house, I'm barely able to put my hand on the car door before it swings open. If I didn't have my seatbelt on, I would have fallen on my face and Mycroft would only scold me for being indecent and clumsy in front of his house. It's not like anyone pays that close of attention though. Sometime I feel like he thinks he's the most important person of all of the factions, the queen bee and everyone else are just his workers. I rather like that idea.

Coming into his house, I'm greeted by some of his busy staff. Only by the few who like me of course, the others just view me as being too much like Mycroft, but with more sarcasm and attitude. I only need to take a couple steps into the hallway to see the queen bee himself, perched on his throne of white leather. On his large nose are expensive spectacles that are too small for his face, but he likes the look of improperly sized frames apparently. It's not like he can't afford to replace them.

"Hello brother mine."

"Hello Mycroft," I say not bothering to move from the hallway.

"I trust you are anxious for the choosing-" he says putting down his paper shocked. "Where are your glasses? And for God's sake fix that hair!" Mycroft stands abruptly muscles tense as if angered by my state.

I slouch just to further his disappointment, "why?"

"You are in the house of your faction's leader," he says through gritted teeth.

"I am in the house of my brother."

"Which demands respect all the same!" He shouts causing his staff to run around frantic, I remain calm having dealt with this too much to be bothered.

I smile with only one side of my mouth and walk past him to sit on his couch. I can't help but to study his decor which was just recently changed, the need to keep up with recent trends being the cause no doubt. "You requested my presence here yet you are slow to tell me the reason, I'd appreciate it if you would get on with it, I have a rather busy schedule for the next few days,"

"Yes, that's precisely why I wanted to speak with you, given that I am the face of this faction that you will soon officially call your home."

"Are you meeting with all the people choosing this year?" I say feeling the smile all the way up to my eyes. I can't speak to my parents this way, if I did it wouldn't be nearly as fun.

Mycroft gives his signature fake smiles that lets me know he'd rather not answer my question. "No, I am not."

"So, you're giving me special treatment because of our blood relation." My smile grows as I watch my brother's reaction.

"I am giving you no treatment, just simply having a conversation about the events."

"But I'm not supposed to discuss those things in fear that it will invalidate the process, the time where I'm to choose my true beliefs and traits without being influenced in anyway."

"Enough Sherlock," Mycroft says with a sigh rubbing between his eyes as if the massage will take away my words. "I just would like to make you aware of how your decision in two days won't just effect you; but it'll effect myself, our parents, and this faction as a whole."

"No pressure," I say keeping the same smile on my face.

"This is serious Sherlock!" Mycroft says in a harsh whisper leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees. "Do you have any idea what people will think if erudite's leader's family member chooses a different faction? We strive to prove that we are the best faction, it's bad enough we have any transfers but that is beyond our control. You are top of your class just as I was, you are the picture of erudite, if you leave how are people to know where they truly belong."

"You're overthinking this Mycroft," I say in a bored tone. "If I stay here when I don't belong, that's just going to put a stain on our name."

"But Sherlock, you do belong here."

I look out the window blankly, "I guess we'll find out tomorrow."

Mycroft lets a small crack form in his perfect little mask of a face, "Sherlock." I look over at him studying his every move, my brother doesn't show emotion. "All hearts are broken. All lives end. Caring is not an advantage." With a sigh he looks away. "But I must admit," he says with a slight difference in his tone. "Your loss would break my heart."