7 Lumaki, 891 ED
Oraw, 15:24
Milagre, Empire of Tyrman
The announcement came as a shock to everyone that was listening. Many in the crowd whispered frantically to their neighbor, wondering what exactly the Archmage’s words could mean. Even I was taken by surprise. There were nearly fifty teachers in the school, and while they were usually outnumbered by the first-year students, the core roster of apprentices rarely ever stayed as large as it was. With each year that came, the rigorous final examinations shunted out a lot of students from each year.
“Please do your best not to be alarmed,” Samuel continued. “We are only being selective with our core students, those that wish to enroll full time and stay within the campus. For those who are enrolling part-time or for extra lessons, you’ll only be tested today. For you, this is simply a chance to make a name for yourself with the teachers.”
That seemed to mollify the crowd a bit, and more than a few looked excited. The girl who had spoken near me raised a hand. “Prime Magus, does that mean that some of the Masters are looking for personal apprentices today?”
“We’re always on the lookout for gifted students,” the Archmage replied with a jovial grin. “Yes, if you show promise today, one or more of the masters could be interested in taking, shall we say, a greater hand in your education.”
My heart, which had taken a sudden and unexpected plunge in the direction of my stomach at the first announcement, now lifted again. I took a deep breath to calm my racing nerves. I hadn’t even been tested yet, and I was already starting to panic. Not a good start to the day. Though the amendment was certainly comforting, as I wasn’t looking for enrollment to the core studies. As long as I kept my interest within reason and didn’t do anything to draw attention to myself, I could survive this trial.
Beside me, Gogo looked highly interested all of a sudden. He wore a broad grin from ear to ear, and he almost seemed to be bobbing up and down in excitement. I nudged him in the ribs to get his attention. “What are you so excited about?”
By way of answer, he pointed to the second figure from the right, the one that Selvik was standing beside. I followed his pointing arm and saw a young woman standing with an expression of nervous energy that almost matched the students. Her hair was a riot of colors and trimmed in a pixie-cut style. Her eyes, a bright verdant green, were lowered to the ground, and she seemed to be breathing as evenly as she could.
A skittish master then, I thought. Not much to think about there. Then Gogo hissed, “That’s Master Shaso. The rumors were true! She is working for the College!”
Well, of course, she’s a teacher here, I thought, though I said nothing. It was the natural progression for her storyline and something that I’d devised before I’d been pulled into Ahya. It wasn’t nearly as much of a surprise as finding Selvik as a Master, or the fact that the College was accepting Necromancy as a teachable subject. But suddenly, remembering the skills I’d given Falynn, I could understand Gogo’s excitement. He was clearly hoping that he’d find favor in the half-elf Master’s eyes.
“Divide yourself into seven lines, please,” Samuel Bragg said loudly now. “And we will begin our tests.”
I moved a quickly as I could to join the nearest line, not particularly caring which Master I was tested by. Gogo moved immediately for the line before Falynn and managed to get in a little under halfway through. I tried to crane my neck to see which Master I’d lined up for, but by the time I’d found a spot, I couldn’t tell. Samuel was moving back and forth along the lines, making sure they were relatively even, as a few had become longer than most. Clearly, other students had tried to do the same as Gogo but hadn’t moved quickly enough.
Despite the large crowd, the tests progressed rather quickly. For most, the teachers simply tested them to see which school of magic they naturally favored, gave them a focus, and had them cast a spell to determine their skill. In some rare cases, extra spells were requested, as the teacher’s interests were piqued. Watching, I could see that one or two of the Masters would actually address students in another line for such requests. An early show of their interest, I supposed.
The lines moved forward at a reasonable pace. The line for Falynn, I noticed, was a bit slower, as the druid was taking a few moments longer. Beside her, Selvik was running through his candidates rather quickly, a look of complete disinterest on his face. The most encouragement he showed a student was a simple nod of approval, though I did see him ask for a second spell, just once, from a short silver-haired girl with dark markings on her skin. When the Marked One was finished showing her tests, Selvik gave her a quiet word and she departed the line, standing tall.
“Ahem.” the dry, unamused sound yanked me back to my own situation, and I found myself facing a Master. Judging by the symbol on his robe he was a Master of Destruction, but I couldn’t bring myself to remember what his name was. That didn’t mean he was new, of course. I just couldn’t be expected to come up with a name and story for literally every character.
“Good evening, Apprentice,” he intoned. “I am Master Giovanni Corsa. Please place your hand over this bowl, and channel your mana.”
Ah, I thought. The oldest piece of worldbuilding I’d ever done. Inspired by a similar test in a few shows I’d watched, I’d created the ultimate way to divine someone’s school of magic. A wooden bowl, filled with muddy water. Either the bowl or the water could change drastically in reply to someone’s mana. Samuel himself had taken this test, and the bowl had become crystalline, showcasing that he belonged to the school of Knowledge.
I placed my hand over it as instructed, and let some of my mana flow out. The system didn’t count it as casting a spell, so there wasn’t any actual mana used up. At once, the bowl began to overflow, with the muddy water slopping over the sides and dribbling down onto the Master’s hands. He let out a hastily muffled curse and took a step back.
“That’s enough,” he said quickly. “Very well. You clearly favor the school of Destruction. I must say, I haven’t seen a reaction that strong in quite some time."
“Just trying my best,” I said, mentally kicking myself. I didn’t know how, but I’d clearly piqued the man’s interest. I was trying to stay under the radar, I told myself angrily. “So, what’s next?”
Master Corsa turned and pointed at a target dummy some fifty yards away. “Now you will show me a spell. Cast whatever spell you think best represents your skill as a mage.”
“Right,” I said slowly. “Something that represents my skill as a mage.”
Of course, most mages at this point in their life would have already chosen a specialty. When they applied to the college, they knew what path they wanted to take their magic down, and what was needed to accomplish that fact. Sure, I had a general idea of what magics I’d want to learn first. The issue was that I didn’t know any of those magicks.
But that wasn’t true, a small voice in my head said. You already have Strike. It was the kind of offensive magic I liked. And even better, it was a low-power spell. Just enough to show that I knew what I was doing, but not so flashy that it’d draw attention. It would place me at average, which was exactly where I wanted the teachers to see me.
“Alright then,” I said. “I think I have the perfect one.”
Master Corsa stepped aside, gesturing toward the target with one hand, and I lifted my left arm, casting a Ki Strike.
Ki Strike: 15 (+4) = 19 [Success]
4 Damage
You have mastered the spell (Strike)!
You have been granted one additional mana for your efforts.
The bolt of Ki shot out from my hand and smashed into the target. It took a decent chunk out of the torso but did little damage aside. When I turned my attention back to the Master, he looked a little disappointed but made a note in the book he was holding. It wasn’t a surprising reaction, considering that he’d seen the strength of my mana with the water bowl test. The spell I’d just cast was practically feeble by comparison.
“Haven’t quite grown into your strengths, I see,” Master Corsa said, still looking a little let-down. “Very well, Apprentice Tuck. Which focus would you-”
There was a loud explosion off to the right that distracted everyone. Turning, I saw Gogo standing beside Falynn Shaso, who looked highly interested. “Very good! But tell me, could you repeat that?”
Gogo, casting a quick glance my way and grinning broadly, raised both hands once again, forming them together as if making the barrel of a gun. With a bright flash, a streak of red light shot out from between his fingers. It arced across the training grounds toward his target dummy, already badly singed and nearly broken from the first strike. As it made contact with what remained, the beam let off another loud explosion. When the dust cleared, there was nothing left of the target but splinters of wood scattered across the lawn.
“Excellent work!” Master Shaso crowed, patting Gogo on the back. “Very good indeed!”
Gogo, not even trying to look humble, grinned in my direction again. “Thank you, Master Shaso. I’m trying my hardest to be the best. I have to show my progress.”
The new teacher took his statement as the kind of eager thing any student would say, it seemed. But I caught the true meaning of the words. It wasn’t hard, considering that he continued to stare at me pointedly. You’re not showing your true worth, his eyes seemed to say. And at once, I felt a flare of irritation rise up inside my chest. That bastard was calling out my weak effort, and offering a deliberate challenge. It was a challenge I couldn’t ignore.
“Actually,” I said quickly, as Master Corsa began to reach into his robe to show the options for a focus, “I have one more spell. I think it will show my strength a little better.”
Mildly surprised but obviously interested, Corsa gave a vague gesture of his hand for me to proceed. This was a bad idea, I thought. I was supposed to keep a low profile. Why did Gogo have to challenge me, and awaken my competitive side? I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. But I was committed now. Taking a deep breath, I raised both of my hands and swiped them through the air forward, as if trying to clap them onto the target.
Tempest Surge: 17 (+4) = 21 [Success]
38 Damage!
Just barely audible over the sound of the rushing and roaring winds, I heard the students around me crying out in surprise and panic. Ignoring them, I’d forced the winds forward. Instead of focusing on a single target dummy, I sent the wind out to barrage them all, as there were only six left. Immediately, they were knocked over by the wind. Most fell down, but one righted itself. Before Corsa or anyone else could react, I directed the second blast at that target, determined that it wouldn’t remain standing.
Tempest Surge: 19 (+4) = 23 [Success]
27 Damage!
The last standing target, now the target of an entire blast on its own, stood no chance against the barrage of the wind I sent streaming toward it. It was sent flying backward with brutal force, to smash against the wall nearly thirty feet behind it, and shatter, just as Gogo’s had done. I turned to Gogo then, offering my own infuriating grin, and barely suppressed the urge to laugh at his annoyed face.
