[Emmett]

Are you fucking serious, Patrick! Couldn't you just leave me alone for two seconds?! What are you even trying to accomplish anyway?!

The crowd focused down on me. I was going to die here and now. There was no chance of escape. This was his goal all along. He wanted me to die as payback for what happened to Bryce, and he picked an opportune moment to set everyone against me.

It is common knowledge that a decent person does not hurt, rape, molest or otherwise abuse women. It's a law of nature for us humans. Women are the reason the next generation can even exist. Women are also smarter and more socially aware than men. Some women, like Jacqueline, can command an entire village and commandeer a rebuild operation. Frankly, we need women in our lives. Men know this, and will act to destroy any threat. It's an ingrained instinct, albeit one I never really got. Maybe that's just because I spent my post-Aegis years with a Fire Magus who could and did slaughter whole tribes of raiders on her own when they came for us.

But I knew it was there. I've seen the extent to which men would gleefully descend to be seen as Protectors.

And I was the target. I closed my eyes, and let my face droop low. This was the end of Emmett Sincl-

"Nobody touches Emmett." I looked up to find Lienne standing tall, with her chest pushed out a little bit. Maybe it'd have looked intimidating on a man, but it seemed a bit off on a woman. "Not until he confesses to, or commits, such a crime before us. He was attempting to answer a question to me when someone decided to interject and try to poison the well. Speaking of, what is your name?"

"Patrick Peterson," Patrick replied. "Soon-to-be student of the Fire College."

"Not if you keep your shit up you won't." She turned to me. "Eyes up." My neck pulled my head back up, and my eyelids parted. "To prevent further incidents, state clearly whether or not you are afraid."

I nodded. "Yes, I'm quite afraid. Afraid of failing. Afra-"

"No, don't continue." Lienne said softly. "I appreciate your honesty in this matter." She threw up a hand to halt Patrick before he began. "If you wish to try again next year, you may always depart. But if you persist, know that you will be judged."

"I... I will continue. I will fail, but I will continue."

"Very well." Lienne stepped back and gazed across the crowd again. "Before we open the gate and commence Stage 1, anyone who wishes to leave will do so now."

A hush fell over, and several of the candidates looked back, as I had done. I had considered doing so myself, but I knew that it would not amount to much. I had already mentally committed to staying. I was going to fail the test and rely on Ser Linn to bail me out.

After another dreadfully-slow minute, the Provost of Combat shouted into the heavens, "Open The Gate. Let None Escape."

The staff members behind her dispersed into the crowd as the heavy iron doors parted forward. Several of the audience stepped back, those with robes making sure those without were still in the front. Behind stood several more preumably-staff-members, a floating obelisk, and a rather decorated elderly pale-skinned man with a beard and everything wearing a onyx-black robe with lime-green trim, replete with several medals on both left and right chests.

"You have done wonderfully, Lienne," the old man said, "Now let me take it from here."

"Sure thing, Headmaster." Ser Lienne strode into the Inner campus, with lush lawn grass to contrast the wild field grass of the outer ring. The old man taking over bowed before the audience, and spoke with an unyielding calm.

"Greetings candidates, and welcome to the Can Vahs Arcane Colleges. I am Percival Clarent, the Headmaster of this establishment. As a veteran of the Nightmare War, I remind you here and now that we do not go by the name Sleepless Seminary anymore, and any mention of it in official paperwork will be punished severely. Now, normally this obelisk is not here. We moved it here for the purposes of this test. Specifically, it will measure magickal output during Stage Two, and you may interact with it during Stage One, to complete both stages at once. As you are all bound to the test, I will now call upon volunteers for Stage One."

Patrick's hand shot up immediately with a snap. A few more had their hands raised as well, but Percival's gazed fixed squarely on my personal hell demon.

"Very well. What is your name?"

"Patrick Peterson, sir."

"Well met. Please step forward."

Patrick took approximately six steps and stood directly in front of the rhomboid obelisk, in a neutral stance.

"Welcome to your entrance examination, Mr. Peterson. The first pillar of a Can Vahs student is talent. A magus looking to study with us must show what it is that drives him. The first stage then, is to demonstrate your Magick before us, in any way you see fit that you feel demonstrates your talents. If you interact with the obelisk, this will also serve as your Stage Two 'Power' assessment."

"Any way I see fit, huh?" Patrick asked.

"Correct. You may begin when ready." Almost before Headmaster Clarent finished, Patrick spread his legs to shoulder-width apart and wound both hands in circles, right arm outstretched, left arm curling in front of him. He snapped his right fist back and left palm forward, then punched out, pulling his left arm back. A focused stream of fire hissed out, flying as an arrow loosed, and slamming forcefully into the obelisk. The backdraft of heat washed over the crowd, and a fever wracked into my head then and there. Sticky, grimy sweat oozed out of my pores, and I took to breathing through my mouth to spare my nostrils the pain. The stream continued for some time, and Patrick had begun to hiss and groan a bit, his arm shaking.

I had started panting at this point. Was it the heat or the fear of death, at this point? I didn't know. I couldn't know. The beam of fire had begun to widen a little, and the Headmaster called out, "You may stop."

Patrick pulled his fist back and the flame ceased. He tried to return to his neutral stance, but had started to stagger. "Ugh," he moaned, "What... the..."

"A very bold effort, Mr. Peterson," Clarent said, "You seem to have overheated your Ætheric vessel, in your excitement to prove yourself. Admirable, but quite dangerous. You are fortunate to be the first contestant; you will have time to rest before Stage Three. You pass, by the way."

"Because of course... I did... hah.... Thank you..." Patrick limped back to the crowd and plopped his butt down to rest or something.

"Well, that was a very stunning first performance," Clarent said, "I don't expect everyone to be on that level, no, no. Now, who's up next?"

a few hands raised up, none of them as confidently or audaciously as Patrick's, but a few still raised up. Stroking his white beard, the elderly man without a staff looked around and pointed toward a dark-skinned blonde man wearing a sleeveless shirt. "I think we'll see what you have to offer."

"I'd be honored to." He stepped forward, and takes the spot where Patrick stood, before turning to face the Headmaster. "I assume I can perform the two stages differently?"

"Of course."

"Thank you." He held his arms outstretched, almost like an eagle its wings, faint azure flames flickering into existence around him.

"Before you do, may we have your name?"

"Oh right. Ansel Bauer."

"Thank you. You may begin."

Ansel smiled and curled his flat fingers forward, the faint azure aura around him shrinking down and concentrating to a less-faint sphere around him. He pushed his arms and hands to close, shrinking and brightening the sphere of magic more and more. As he did, the sphere's exterior became more and more defined, and eventually morphed out of a sphere, and more into a polyhedron, the exterior wall solidifying more and more until his hands finally clasped together. A soft thrum echoed through the fields, and Ansel threw his hands up into the air, a twelve-faced solid light-blue polyhedron flying up into the sky. He smiled and stretched his arms before kicking the solid object made literally of Æther back up into the air as if it were a ball for some kind of sport. He waited for it to fall back down before juggling it between his two hands, even bouncing it against his forehead once or twice. He looked toward the Headmaster, and faintly nodded before kicking the construct toward him in a slow arc. Clarent caught it in a basket of his two hands, then held it up, spinning it around, inspecting it, and smiling.

"Fascinating. I feel you are nearing your Element, but haven't quite reached it yet." Clarent launched the dodecahedron into the sky, then flicked a lime-green flash of energy at it, creating a sharp hissing sound and shattering the object to pieces.

"Aw man," Ansel said, "I thought it'd be a little more resistant than that."

"It is not a shame that your introductory spell was sundered by the Headmaster of the seminary." Clarent bowed to Ansel. "Your object was very well constructed and may have even stood up to cannon fire. I rate you as passing Stage One."

"Thank you very much Headmaster." Ansel smiled and bounced up and down on his feet a little bit, earning him some laughter from his would-be classmates.

"You are welcome Mr. Bauer. It is time for your Stage Two examination. For this, you may use whatever means you wish to impose as much power upon the obelisk as you can."

"Right." Ansel turned to face the octahedral stone before him, stretching to about thrice his height. He snapped his feet together, and held his left hand to his heart. Taking a breath, he stepped his left foot back, and drew his left arm back, as if about to throw a bowling ball, Æther lighting up and gathering around his cupped palm. He took one step with his left foot, closed his hand into a fist, and took a final step on his right foot before throwing his fist forward underhand, and sending a comet of Æther flying smack into the levitating giant rock, to a light applause from the audience around him, and from me.

I liked Ansel. He was polite. I clapped for Ansel. I did not clap for Patrick. Fuck Patrick. Seriously, bastard tried to kill me.

"A fine performance, Mr. Bauer. Please be at ease," Clarent said. "Who else would like to participate?"

Hands raised up again, and the Headmaster surveyed the crowd, and pointed out the woman who had tried to intervene when Patrick was taunting me earlier. "How about you?"

"I would love to." The woman wandered on up to the now-customary spot of initiation. "Grace Gardner. Pleasure to be here."

"Thank you Miss Gardner. You may proceed when ready."

Grace nodded and held her hands up, breathing softly, a deep, cobalt blue flowing from her hands in contrast to the azure everyone else uses. Her hands flowed in rings around her, suspended streams of water forming into existence at their wake, before she touched her fingertips together in a triangle, the twin tendrils of water orbiting her in a gentle, flowing ring. Coos of awe danced over her display.

"Quite beautiful. How long can you sustain that Miss Gardner?"

"Quite some time, Headmaster. Am I okay to proceed to Stage Two?"

"Proceed when ready."

Grace let her legs cross, and parted her fingers, the two streams of water becoming one. She twirled around, the larger current of water following her rotation before she threw her hands forward. At that moment, the water solidified into a javelin of ice, hurling itself like an arrow to strike, and sadly shatter, against the more durable stone object, but not before leaving a faint patch of frost like a scar from what would have been an entry wound. "Huh. I guess that wasn't good enough."

The cheers of her magick's beauty morphed into gasps, and audible expressions of awe. "What do you mean, not good enough?!" "That was amazing!" "You go girl!"

"We will have to deliberate on that, yes," Clarent said. "Now, do we have any additional volunteers or will I have to start calling on people?"

One hand did indeed shoot up that moment, its bearer surprisingly wearing some sort of suit jacket, black hair combed nearly back, sunlight bouncing off his black boots.

"Hm. Very well." Headmaster Clarent held his hand out and waved the man forward. "And you are?"

"Abraham Adams, scion of Lord Kenneth Adams," the man declared. "I am here to take the entrance examination for the Arcane Colleges." He stood front and center, and while I couldn't see his eyes, I felt them boring into the obelisk in sight.

"You may begin when ready."

Abraham raised his foot up and drew a slow breath. With a slam of the foot, another azure circle leapt into existence beneath him. I think I saw a line with 2 branches on it underneath him, but i couldn't really tell. What I did see was a rather-distorted rhombus jutting sideways, joining the inner circle flanked by two more runes, these ones of two vertical lines joined by two diagonals in between.

The wave of awe fell over me next, and the air thickened. Abraham raised his arms to his sides and grasped into the air, two flames of azure leaping from the outer runes straight up to shoulder-height.

His skull swayed to crack the joints in his throats and he launched one fist forward, the left flame morphing into a comet and rocketing straight into the stone target. The meteor detonated into a wave of pure force, prompting several of the staff to widen their stances.

Abraham stepped back, and chambered his right fist. The flame on his right concentrated to a sphere, following him back, sparking and pulsing.

"I think you made your point clear, Mr. Adams-"

Abraham punched forward,  the projectile blazing faster than I could track, and a wall of fire flared up to intercept the blast. In the next moment I had staggered back, nearly falling on my arse.

"You already passed, Scion Adams," Lienne's voice bellowed through the din of spellfire. "And while I have my doubts, I'm not risking you breaking our target rock. Also we will have to talk about you using that circle in practice bouts."

"I see." Abraham's circle faded, and the wall of fire died down. "Thank you for having me." He returned to his post among the students.

"Several high performers in one wave," Headmaster Clarent said, "I reckon this must be terrifying for some of you second-years to behold."

"Yeah no kidding!" "Who are these guys?!" "Two newbies already with their Elements?!" "Thank the heavens and havens nobody has their aspect!" "A Spell Circle?!"

"Well, would anyone else like to step up?" The Headmaster's gentle prompt brought everyone to a hush. Who would want to go after some nobleman busted out a high-level Spell Circle and had to be stopped by a teacher?!

I looked to my left. I looked to my right. I saw a very clear lack of hands being raised.

"I will have to start calling on people it seems." I took a hard breath, and pushed my head up, the Headmaster's words instilling a shiver in my heart. "And who might you be?"

"Emmett... Sinclair..." Welp, this was it. Do or die now. I drug my feet along the cobblestone, trying to gain control of my breathing, my fright mounting and yet mounting.

"So you've made your decision." Lienne stepped forward, to the gate, to regard me. "Stand tall. If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right! I will not have you insulting the Colleges like that!"

"Y-Yes Ma'am!" I forced my back straight, and took my steps more deliberately to where I would be judged. I placed my last step where the others had tested before me, where all had passed, with the exception of maybe Grace.

"Ma'am is fine for now," Ser Lienne said, "But if you're addressing me in an official capacity, call me Ser. Not to be confused with Sir, though. Those pronunciations are different."

"Yes, Si-Ser."

"I wonder what you will bring to the table, Mr. Sinclair, to have Lienne so interested," Clarent said. "You may begin when ready."

I nodded, and took several slow breaths, holding out my hand. This was it. I was about to let everyone down, again. Ser Lienne was right, though: if it was worth doing, it was worth doing right.

I took a slow breath, and let the azure light fill my hand. I thought for a moment that I heard a hum of curiosity from Grace, but Patrick's subterfuge made it certain she would hate me.

In this moment, I knew trying to seize more out of the air would be futile, so I took a moment to think. What could I try? I was going to fail anyway, so may as well broaden my horizons, right?

So instead of forcing more Æther into my hand, I took the Æther I already had, and threw it forward. It got about a few meters out before dissipating.

Silence broke for a few moments, then the crowd burst into laughter.