“Uh, hi. I’m Ethan.”

 

I turn to the speaker. He looks a little younger than me, maybe a few months off, with sandy brown hair, light eyes, and square rimmed glasses. His clothes are on the high end in cost, but practical, with a sturdy jacket reaching halfway down his thighs over decent pants and a shirt. He’s wearing a hefty satchel, the strap of which he seems physically incapable of keeping himself from playing with. Clearly he’s nervous, and I can’t help but get the feeling he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing.

 

Call it a hunch.

 

He also has a ring on one of his fingers that looks remarkably similar to the storage rings that Mom and Aunt Tamaya have. When I asked about them, Mom said their intertwined design was integral to the enchantment, though she couldn’t say how that worked. Neither of them made much of a study of the craft.

 

For him to have a storage ring at his age, which Mom said were fairly expensive, he’d have to either be from a wealthy family or related in some way to the maker. I immediately rule out a wealthy family. The rest of his clothes may be upper scale, but nowhere near the level of people who could afford that kind of thing for someone his age, and besides, he lacks the kind of confidence that Mom says usually comes with the wealthy.

 

A connection to an enchanter then. I don’t have the experience to judge the quality of the work, but a quick check with my rudimentary mana senses tells me there is a decent amount in that ring, so in the upper tier of skill, certainly. There’s a simple bracelet peeking out from his left sleeve, also enchanted, though I can’t say with what, and there is a bit of mana in the satchel at his side. I think I can see the shape of tools poking out the mouth of the bag.

 

So. Either an enchanter’s apprentice, which was extremely rare in those who haven’t attended a place like Cardinal, or more likely, close family of one. Close enough that they taught him the craft when he was young.

 

Colour me intrigued.

 

“Hello. I’m Valerie, this is Sophie,” I say. Sophie gives me an odd look when I introduce us, though she waves hello all the same. Seems she decided to let me take the lead with Ethan here.

 

He opens his mouth, but then closes it again, clearly not sure how to proceed.

 

Soon enough, he decides on a course of action and says, “I’m sorry, I have no idea what comes next. I don’t really talk to people much.”

 

Sophie snorts beside me. “We can see that.”

 

His face reddens in embarrassment, and he says, “I’m bothering you, I’ll just leave.”

 

Ethan turns and begins to walk away. Feeling some sympathy for him, and knowing he wouldn’t have approached us for no reason, I call out, “Now hang on, we didn’t say that. Was there a reason you wanted to say something?”

 

He turns back to us, face still slightly red.

 

“My uh, my father made me promise to at least try and make a friend today. I guess I thought I’d introduce myself, but maybe I’m just being an idiot. I should go.”

 

I give him an encouraging smile. “Ethan, it’s fine. First introductions are sometimes awkward, it’s no big deal. Why don’t you stand with us, and we can talk for a bit? Who knows, your Dad might get what he wanted.”

 

He looks at us, still nervous, though I think I see a bit of hope? It’s so faint I don’t think he even realises he’s feeling it, but it’s there.

 

“Are you sure?” he asks.

 

Sophie glances at me, one eyebrow raised in question. I give her a small nod, and she shrugs and says, “Come on, we don’t bite.”

 

Ethan steels himself and walks back over.

 

“I, um. I don’t really know what happens next.”

 

I chuckle. “Full disclosure, neither do we. Sophie and I never really got the chance to interact with others all that much, for our own reasons. Can I ask a question, though?”

 

He nods hesitantly.

 

“I couldn’t help but notice your ring. I’m under the impression they aren’t exactly cheap. How’d you come by one?”

 

Ethan glances at his ring. “My Dad made it, actually. I helped a little, but he did most of the work. They’re a little beyond my skill level at the moment, but I’ll get there.”

 

I blink. I don’t know much about enchanting, and what little I do know lies more to the practical end of things, but when Mom told me about her ring she mentioned one of the reasons storage rings were so expensive was because the materials required to make them were very difficult to acquire. She didn’t know the exact parts, or the monsters they came from, but they don’t appear in siphons very often, if at all, so they have to be hunted out in the wild. That makes them very difficult to get a hold of. Not to mention that making a mistake with the enchantment carries the risk of destroying the ring and losing the components.

 

So either his dad is sentimental enough to not care about the cost, or he’s skilled enough that it isn’t a concern. Possibly both.

 

“That’s pretty neat. So you’re learning enchanting magic items from him, then?” I ask. He seems to be a little more open when discussing enchantments. It may be best to keep him in his comfort zone if I don’t want to scare him off.

 

Ethan nods. “Yeah. Dad started teaching me when I was eight, so I know a thing or two.”

 

“Will you be in the Craftsman track then?” Sophie asks.

 

He scratches the back of his head. “Actually I, uh, this is embarrassing, but I actually signed up for Combat by accident.”

 

“By accident?” Sophie says sceptically. “How’d you manage that?”

 

Ethan looks away slightly. “I was reviewing my options in my head, and sometimes I speak out loud if I don’t pay enough attention to what I’m thinking. I didn’t want to look like an idiot, so I just let it happen. I plan to change the next chance I get.”

 

“Huh.” I say. I can’t say why, but something tells me it might not be a bad choice for him. A gut feeling maybe? “Can I give you some advice?”

 

“Sure?” he says, evidently not entirely sure if he wants to hear it.

 

“Maybe stick with it for a few weeks. Believe it or not, I didn’t think I’d have the knack for fighting until a few weeks ago. Who knows, maybe it’s the same for you.”

 

Sophie snorts. “‘Knack’, she says. I wouldn’t call your freakish progress a knack.”

 

“What do you mean by that?” Ethan asks. I look away, knowing where Sophie’s going with this. She’s been a little incredulous of how far I’ve come these past weeks.

 

“Okay get this. She started learning how to fight three weeks ago, and in that time has learned how to wield two different weapons with equal skill. I have been using a spear for four years, and it takes everything I have to keep ahead of her. It is absurd how quickly she’s picked this up.”

 

Ethan looks at me a little wide-eyed. “Is that true?”

 

“Weeeell, maybe? I mean, I have a number of advantages, you know? I have a Guide whose whole deal revolves around weapons, and my Aspect can make learning the skills a lot easier. It’s not like I did it entirely on my own,” I say sheepishly.

 

“You have a Guide? That’s pretty rare. What’s their name?” he asks.

 

“We both have one, actually. Sophie’s is the Huntsman, mine is the Armsmaster.”

 

“Really? Wow. Now I’m starting to feel a little inadequate here.” At first I thought he was being serious, but then I realised it was his attempt at a joke. Seems Ethan’s warming up to us.

 

“I don’t know, I think you might be underestimating yourself, mister-learnt-enchanting-at-eight,” I say, lightly punching his arm.

 

He chuckles slightly, then says, “Anyway, so you both have Aspects too, then? Mine’s Channeler. It does a few things, but overall makes it much easier to lay enchantments on objects.”

 

I look around as discreetly as possible for a way to deflect, while Sophie gives me the side eye and says, “Slayer. It essentially makes one-on-one fighting much easier for me. What about you Valerie, do you want to tell him your Aspect?”

 

Oh, that cheeky shit.

 

“Well, mine is- oh look something’s happening! Probably should pay attention, don’t want to miss anything.” I’m saved by what looks like three people walking out in front of the crowd, on the other side from the registration area.

 

Sophie chuckles, but turns to watch, while Ethan just looks bewildered. Meanwhile I cringe internally. That was possibly my least subtle deflection by far.

 

“Imma be honest with you here. That, was embarrassing,” Armsmaster says.

 

Shut up.

 

The three people out front are each dressed in what I think is the Academy’s uniform of a white shirt and black jacket, and either pants for the boys or a skirt for the one girl that’s there. I’m not looking forward to the skirt. I can bear it, but it’s not my preferred choice of clothing.

 

Each person raises one hand, and there’s a familiar flash of blue light, and a large collection of stone blocks appear in front of them. I assume the rings are Cardinal property, it’s unlikely for all that many students to have their own.

 

Their outstretched hands all take on the brown, rocky colour and texture of Earth magic, though the girl’s has almost no stone and seems mostly dirt. The stone blocks float up and arrange themselves into a kind of impromptu stage, then there’s a stronger pulse from the girl, and the stones flow together into one piece. There’s a set of stairs to one side, and the three of them walk over and stand next to those stairs.

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Sophie’s ear flicks. She turns her head to where we came in from.

 

Knowing how much better her hearing is than mine, I ask, “What is it?”

 

She frowns slightly. “I’m not sure. Armour, maybe? But it’s too close together, that can’t be right.”

 

I look that way, and shortly after I see coming up the path is the Headmaster Rodrick Henderson. He’s quickly followed by two men and a woman I don’t recognise, then Aunt Tamaya, and then Mom, with the Steelwoven Mantle out in full.

 

I notice a few other people behind her, but Mom is kind of eye-catching at the moment. The Mantle may be in the shape of a choker, with all it’s bladed feathers stored within, but it can be worn as the cloak it originally was. The feathers float close together, so the casual observer could be forgiven for thinking they were interlinked, but they weren’t. From what I understand, having them float like that shaves off precious moments that would have been spent separating each feather in order to attack with them. Another improvement over the original model.

 

Ethan gasps. “Is that…?”

 

“Your Mom does not look happy, Val.” Sophie says.

 

And she’s right. Mom isn’t doing her ‘angry-calm’ thing, so she’s not on the verge of murder (thankfully), but the tension in her jaw is obvious to anyone who has seen her without her guard up.

 

Ethan looks back and forth between me and Mom, mouth working uselessly.

 

“I don’t exactly blame her. She doesn’t like taking out the Mantle’s blades unless she intends to actually use them in some way, so it's understandable. Besides, she loathes pageantry. I wonder how the Headmaster convinced her to go along with it.”

 

Whatever it was, Aunt Tamaya is finding it very amusing. She’s doing a good job of concealing her cheeky grin, but I can see it poking through the calm facade.

 

The Headmaster quickly strides to the stage, and ascends the stairs.

 

The man who follows behind him looks like he weight lifts bears as a warm up. His shoulders are broad and muscular, and he walks in a way that screams that he is in complete control of his every movement. His big brown beard is almost lovingly cared for, though, and it’s a bit of a juxtaposition given the rest of his appearance. I wouldn’t have expected a man his size to take that level of pride in his facial hair.

 

The woman after that is a little shorter than Mom, with long golden blonde hair and a kind face. She’s wearing a dress in dark blue that clings to her considerable curves, and she walks like she’s used to being the center of attention.

 

After her is the first mage I’ve ever seen who looks outright old. His hair is grey and thin, and whilst his gait is strong and unburdened his frame is slightly stooped, like he’s spent too much time bent over something. His face seems stuck in a permanent scowl, as if he has an idea in his head of how things should be, and not a one matches up with reality.

 

Then comes Aunt Tamaya, followed by Mom. The feathers of her Mantle flow back into her choker as she ascends the steps, the last one receding as she reaches the top. She then stands next to the others on the stage.

 

The stage seems to have been well measured, as it is easily able to accommodate each and every one of the people walking up after Mom, who line up in a second row behind them. It doesn’t exactly take a genius to guess they are all the teachers for Cardinal.

 

The Headmaster stands at the front with a placid expression on his face, hands behind his back.

 

Once all the teachers are on the stage, he claps both hands twice, the sound of which rings out through the field we’re gathered on. The murmurs among the crowd from the teacher's arrival, and more notably Mom’s presence, begins to settle down.

 

When everyone is silent, the Headmaster says, “Welcome, welcome, all of you. As I am sure at least most of you will be aware, I am Rodrick Henderson, the Headmaster here at Cardinal Academy. I won’t bore you all with an overly long speech, that’s not what you’re all here for. In a moment, we will begin the entrance exams for the tracks you have each chosen to pursue, but first I would like to introduce the fine Heads of staff standing behind me.”

 

Rodrick’s voice seems to have no trouble reaching everyone, even near the back where the three of us are standing. Likely an enchantment involved. He motions to the big bearded man and says, “First we have Amadeus Gent, the Head of Combat. He also runs the Advanced classes for that track, so if any of you wish to get involved there, you’d best impress him.”

 

Amadeus steps forward and says, “I look forward to seeing how you all progress these coming years.” His voice rumbles out, but like Rodrick reaches everyone fine.

 

Rodrick continues, “Then there is Phoebe Madrigan, who is Head of Magic. There are few living minds who match her understanding of the arcane. Like Amadeus, she runs the Advanced classes for her track.”

 

Phoebe waves with her fingers, and I swear I can see a couple of the boys in the crowd giggling like bashful schoolgirls. “We’re going to learn wonderful things together, I know it.”

 

“Next is Professor Alberic Sadle, a brilliant historian and Head of the Scholar track. There’s no Advanced classes for Scholar, but the good Professor has never failed to pass a student. I think that says wonders about his ability.”

 

Unlike the other two, Professor Sadle doesn’t step forward or say anything, just merely scowls at the prospective students arrayed before him.

 

Undaunted by the Professor’s attitude, Rodrick soldiers on. “Now, there is also Davis Connell, the Head of the Craftsman track. Unfortunately he was held up today, one of the older student’s project went somewhat awry, and he has had to spend the morning performing damage control. But let us move on. Whilst not a track in and of itself, Tamaya Hesting here, is the Head of Healing. For those with the inclination and Affinity, lessons on the various methods of healing magic will become available as a secondary after the first few weeks of introductory classes.”

 

Aunt Tamaya gives a curtesy, and says, “I’m also available to handle any injuries that might occur throughout your schooling, though we have some others on staff just as capable.”

 

“And finally, though not a Head position, I feel obligated to say that we have seen a change of staff in the role of Tactics Instructor. Abraham Briggs has unfortunately passed, for those who wished to experience his teachings. But worry not, for taking his place is none other than Ariel Endmarch herself, recently returned from her time abroad. Her experience on the battlefield will prove immensely valuable to you all, I’m sure.”

 

Perhaps wisely, Rodrick seems to have chosen not to have Mom speak. I wouldn’t put it past her to say some kind of cutting remark just to spite him, given the mood she’s in.

 

“Which brings us, finally, to what I’m sure many of you have been both looking forward to and dreading in equal measure. The entrance exams. If you will look over there,” Rodrick points off to one side of the field, where there is now a small building I hadn’t seen on the way in. There are four doorways set in the side we can see, and above each door is a magical light in a different colour, being red, blue, green, and brown. “In a moment we will have each of you line up and pass through one of those doors based on the track you are about to follow. Red for Combat, Blue for Magic, Green for Scholar, and Brown for Craftsman. Do not feel concerned about whether you all will fit within, that’s all handled. You will be told what you must do once inside, and then when you are finished you will be welcomed into Cardinal Academy in full.

 

“A word of warning, however. This exam is to test you, both in terms of talent and knowledge. A poor performance will end in you being denied entry to the Academy, even to those eligible for the free tuition we offer. So take what time you feel you need to prepare yourselves. You may need it.”

 

And with that vaguely ominous ending, the Headmaster steps back, and just watches the gathered crowd.

 

A few people immediately make their way to the doors to the exam, though most seem mildly off put after the way the Headmaster finished his speech.

 

I sigh. “Welp, let’s go. No point in putting it off.”

 

Ethan gapes at me. “What? Shouldn’t we get ready for it? We don’t even know what’s involved!”

 

“And we won’t find out by standing around here like a couple of loons,” Sophie chimes in, “Valerie’s right. There’s no reason to wait.”

 

With that, Sophie and I make our way to the doors. Ethan seems to be conflicted for a moment, but eventually hurries to catch up, though reluctantly.

 

I notice on the way there that from what little I can see through each door, the rooms beyond don’t quite match up, so there’s some spacial shenanigans messing around here.

 

A line had formed by the time we arrive, but eventually it’s our turn.

 

“Right,” I say, “wish me luck.”

 

“Out of all of us, I think Ethan needs it more,” Sophie says, pointing her thumb at Ethan behind herself, who is once again fiddling with his satchel strap with such fervor that I worry he’ll wear through it. He doesn’t seem to process Sophie’s words.

 

“Good point. Good luck Ethan,” I say, then step through the door before he can respond.