---
When their turn reached the first table, the clerk held out a hand. She had ink on two fingers and a strand of hair that would not stay quiet.
"Name," she said.
"John," he said. "No last name."
She waited for more. Nothing else came. She wrote JOHN and left a short space as if a surname might grow there later.
"Age," she said.
"Seventeen," he said. "Eighteen soon."
"Place of birth," she asked.
He paused. He could have said the White estate and watched it land like a stone. He said "North quarter. Village," which was true enough to write and safe enough to leave.
The clerk looked up at Fizz. "And the contracted spirit."
"Fizz," Fizz said before John could answer.
The clerk's pen paused. "Race," she asked. "Elemental, aerial, fire, beast, other."
Fizz cocked his head. "Yes."
John kept his face even. "Elemental. Aerial. Whatever you want me to be."
The clerk sniffed a smile and wrote ELEMENTAL, AERIAL. "Spoken language," she asked, half teasing.
