“Um… my family?” said Keldon, his back pinned against the door behind him.

  There were a dozen or so students split into two groups, centered around two wooden tables on each side of the room. From the left, a boy with chocolate hair wearing an obnoxious amount of cinnamon cologne stepped forward, wearing a sly smile as he spread his arms out openly.

  “Yes, friend! Branch member? Main family? Perhaps a branch of the Ignasium?” said the boy with chocolate hair.

  “Um… I just moved here,” said Keldon.

  He closed his eyes with a light-hearted smile. “Ah yes, I remember first moving from the Taillard’s into the cloud district. Picking outfits for the galas and dinners could be so overwhelming. Have you gone to any?” asked the boy with chocolate hair.

  “Sort of. I went to Baron Volldsteen’s for a little bit if that counts,” said Keldon.

  As soon as the word Volldsteen left Keldon’s lips, it was like every eye in the room perked up.

  The boy with chocolate hair beamed at him with hungry eyes. “Wow! How’d you manage to sneak your way into a Volldsteen party?!” he said, moving in closer.

  “Oh well, I live there now I guess,” said Keldon.

  Suddenly the boy in the chocolate hair fell back, uninterested in Keldon.

  “You’re a Volldsteen then,” said the boy with chocolate hair.

  “Just living with them,” said Keldon.

  “Might as well be the same thing,” said the boy with chocolate hair. He shook his head, turning around to the table on the left as he walked towards them, ignoring Keldon. “He’s new-blood boys.”

  But as the boy with chocolate hair fell back, a girl with brown eyes and a silver pin in her hair shuffled up from the right table with a bounce in her step.

  “Excuse me for intruding on your little conversation there, but did I hear that you’re a Volldsteen?” said the girl with the silver pin.

  “Well I’m not a Volldsteen, but I’m currently staying with them,” said Keldon.

  The girl’s eyes lit up as she shimmied up to Keldon, sliding into his personal space as his shoulders tensed up and he took a step back.

  She laughed. “Oh, come on don’t be shy! We’re both New-bloods after all, nothing wrong with getting to know each other a little bit better.”

  “UMM…” stammered Keldon, his eyes darting around the room as he rubbed Yan’s scarf nervously.

  But as he looked around for a distraction, he nearly overlooked a boy sketching by himself near the tables on the right. He had neat honey-colored hair and carried him elegantly even though the other examinants made conversation with their backs towards him. Keldon’s heart twinged with sadness.

  “What about him?” asked Keldon, pointing to the boy in the corner.

  The girl looked in the direction Keldon pointed, making an unapologetic frown towards the boy.

  “What about him,” she said flatly.

  “Isn’t he new-blood too?” asked Keldon.

  “By name maybe,” said the girl. “But between me and you, I wouldn’t recommend you get too close. In terms of reputation… well, he’s a little eccentric.”

  The boy wore simple beige clothing. No medallions, gold, or fine silk anywhere on his body. Keldon ground his teeth. Memories of eating alone at the Hissings flashed into his mind, feeling somewhat personally attacked by the comment. The clothes he wore suddenly felt like slime on his skin.

  “They only like me because I look like them,” thought Keldon.

  “I’m a little eccentric,” said Keldon, giving the girl a dissatisfied look.

  She hopped backward with a nervous laugh. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Was he an acquaintance of yours or something?” asked the girl.

  “No. He’s a stranger,” said Keldon.

  Keldon turned around, catching a glimpse of the girl raising an eyebrow at him as he walked straight towards the boy in the corner. Walking past the blank stares of the rest of the New-blood group, Keldon caught bits of the conversation behind him.

  “Do something man, we’re gonna lose our in with Volldsteen!” whispered a boy in the group.

  Keldon sighed. Why were connections all these people cared about? He strode directly towards the honey-colored hair boy.

  “This seat taken?” asked Keldon, pointing to an empty wooden stool.

  “Whatever you want, I have nothing to offer you,” said the boy with honey hair.

  “You could offer me your company,” said Keldon.

  “Don’t be coy. This is not an invitation. I have no connections that would be of interest to you, so I’d recommend you save your breath.”

  “That’s okay, I just thought I’d come to keep you company,” said Keldon, plopping down on the wooden stool.

  The boy with honey hair sighed, setting down his sketchbook as his dejection turned to a scowl towards Keldon.

  “Why do you people continue to insist on disturbi- “said the boy with honey- hair.

  But as the boy spoke, Keldon caught a glance at the skillfully done pencil sketch. The sketch was a fish the size of a house vomiting dozens of smaller fish while being gutted by fishermen as peasants gaped at the sight. It was disturbing as it was beautiful.

  “Oh wow, are you replicating a sketch in the style of Bruegel the Eldest?” asked Keldon.

  Suddenly, the boy froze with a baffled look on his face.

  “And what of it?” asked the boy.

  “I love Bruegel’s work!” said Keldon, moving closer to the boy. “He was one of my favorite artists in a book I read back in the Hiss-… Back in my hometown!”

  The boy’s eyebrows furrowed to a stern glare.

  “When was he born?”

  “Year 357,” said Keldon

  “Contean or Brolian calendar?”

  Keldon smiled. “Trick question, Teluu Calendar.”

  The boy’s eyes narrowed. “The phrase on the bottom of the sketch. What was the original meaning before it had been replaced by Der’Van Hayden?”

  “It means, “Look son, I have long known that the big fish eat the small.”,” said Keldon.

  The boy's glare suddenly lightened, as he reached out his hand with a pleasant grin.

  “Well, I’ll be. Didn’t realize I’d find a fellow purveyor of the arts in this cesspool of a climate. Though, the fine clothes they wear to mask their gauche actions is slightly ironic,” said the boy.

  “Harsh,” said Keldon, sitting down beside him.

  The boy crossed his legs, drumming his fingers on his knee as his gaze crossed the room.

  “Though, not that one can necessarily blame the apple for falling from the tree. The inborn arrogance is partly due to being a product of their environment, another part due to having their heads up their asses,” said the boy.

  Keldon laughed, “Hah! Man am I glad to know I’m not the only one that thinks people are a little stuck up here. My name’s Keldon by the way.”

  The boy reached out his hand, “Nice to meet you. My name’s Daltonus Van HerschWeizle, but you can just call me Alton.”

  As the two of them shook hands, the door at the front swung open as the lady who had been guarding the front barged in.

  “It is time seekers of knowledge for you will be tested by salt and bloo- yada yada yada. Ready or not, here we go. Follow me,” said the guard lady in a monotone voice.

  Keldon picked up his belongings, throwing them over his shoulder as each person in the room gathered their things. Together, they shuffled out the door and followed the guard lady down a long bare hallway which led to a tall set of twin silver doors. As the group reached the end of the hallway, the silver doors swung open, revealing corridor walls that blocked off the view of an open area ahead.

  “Alright, in you go. Chop chop. Let’s keep it moving, I was supposed to be off four hours ago,” said the guard lady.

  Keldon, Alton, and the rest of the examinants filed through the corridor as they poured out into a giant stone ring. As he looked to the opposing end of the room, he suddenly felt a gnawing on the inside of his chest as reality slammed into him all at once. This was it. This was what the last couple of weeks had led up to. And he was barely prepared enough for the scribe apprentice exam as is. He felt his sweat cling to his back as he rubbed his scarf for comfort.

  “UGHHH there are still MORE?” said a deep male voice.

  All the examinants looked up. Upon the viewing platform, a middle-aged man with a hunch overlooked the testing area with a scowl. He had messy black hair and bags under his eyes as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “Ow! That was my shin!” he yelled, looking to the side.

  Beside him, there was a woman with silver hair and a mature aura to her. She carried a long wooden cane of blue, jabbing it into the middle-aged man’s side as she shot him a killing stare.

  “Sit up straight Magister Randle, you’re supposed to be a role model for the children.”

  The man bemoaningly sat up, crossing his arms with a huff as the woman with silver hair turned to Keldon and the other examinants with a plastered smile.

  “Welcome to the precursor of grand destiny, examinants. You have but one chance to change your lives forever.”