by Tao Wong
“Good. The staff?” Nicholas held out his hand before inclining his head toward Patricia. “Mage Fitzgerald will guide you to the examination room.”
I stepped forward and handed over my staff, giving it one last glance before following Patricia into the house. She strode past the living room into the single barren office right off the corridor. On the worn, bulky office table, a paper had been set, along with a single line exercise book.
“Two hours.”
I acknowledged her words and walked over, fishing some pens from inside my jacket before putting the jacket over the back of the chair and getting comfortable. Patricia looked me over once again then walked out, shutting the door. I felt the spell that sealed the room and triggered the protective enchantment. For a moment, fear clutched at me—until I noticed the trigger that would turn the room-sealing enchantment off from the inside. Right. Not a prison, just extra careful against cheaters who might be getting help from others.
I snorted, tapped the workbook, and flipped over the examination questions. Best to get to it then. I scanned through the first question and clicked my pen, composing my thoughts. Time to get to it.
Two hours went by in a blink. I wrote and wrote, answering questions as quickly as I could. At first, the questions were easy to answer. The equivalent of basic math. But by the time I got toward the last couple of pages, the complexity made me frown, my brow furrowing as I struggled to provide responses. Some of it was history, context dependent. Others required knowledge of spell formulae and theorems I only vaguely recalled, or had puzzled out the basic portions of. I was so caught up in answering, I didn’t notice the door opening, the release of the wards.
“Time is up.” Patricia stood beside the table, hand held out for me to hand her the notebook.
I blinked, staring at the words I’d scribbled, and saw a notification that had my eyes narrowing in thought.
Experience Gained for Theorem Exploration!
27,489
“Oh, you tricky bastards,” I said, looking at Patricia’s impatient mien and the last few pages. I scooted back slightly as I reached forward with both hands, gripped the last few questions, and ripped out the pages. I saw Patricia hiss, and as I set the pages on fire, I barely felt the trace of power as she extinguished the flames. I felt another wave of power, and I stopped trying to destroy the paper. “You just copied my answers, didn’t you?”
Patricia sniffed. “We will not be marking the torn portions.”
“Bullshit.” I tossed the notebook on the table, ignoring her still-extended hand, and stood. Sons of bitches caught me out, making me think I was taking an apprentice exam but instead testing me for what I really knew. Testing me for the things that Lily had taught me behind their backs.
I stalked out of the house, only to see Caleb waiting for me. His lips pursed at my glare, but I wasn’t about to be mollified. “That was no apprentice test.”
“The initial part was,” Caleb said, holding up his hands. “I did not know they were going to test you like that. But it’s good, it means they’re taking you seriously.”
“Or trying to trick Lily’s knowledge out of me.”
“Knowledge that you would have to share anyway, if you joined us,” Patricia said, appearing from behind me. “I have marked your examination.”
“Already?” I said, surprised.
“Yes. Your basics are spotty, but much better than most of our Apprentices, I will admit. You also have, as Magus Hahn has informed us, quite a degree of knowledge in some advance application of spell theory.”
I narrowed my eyes, hearing the but. “But?”
“Theory is insufficient to prove your ability. And it seems your work with the staff is, at best, average,” Patricia said.
Once again I narrowed my eyes in suspicion at the Mage. I was not entirely sure I agreed with her assessment, knowing what I did of the Mage Council. Alexa, seated on the hood of the car, looked at me and I carefully shook my head to keep her seated. No, nothing that she could help with here.
“So what? We finishing this?” I said, deciding to see what else they wanted. Or needed.
“This way,” Patricia said, stepping past me and heading for the indoor riding circle.
I followed, the giant white canvas flaps billowing in the wind as I walked into the bare earth riding circle. The riding circle was empty but for a series of enchanted staves located at the borders of the stable. As I stepped in, I felt the enchantments kick in, sealing me within.
A hand came up, generating a shield across my body even as I put distance between Patricia and myself. I continued my scan of the location, noting the presence of the other examiners and my staff, held casually in one tester’s hand. A jerk of my fist triggered the return protocols in my staff, making it lurch through the air to slap into my hand.
“Calm yourself,” Caleb said, holding up a hand. “The enchantments are to ensure that no damage is done to the surroundings.”
I looked at the Mage and saw that he and Patricia were not making any threatening moves. Neither were the other examiners, truth be told. And… well, that made sense. I found myself flushing in embarrassment even as I pushed down the emotion. After all, they could have warned me. Unlike most of their apprentices, I dealt with more violent and dangerous situations regularly.
“Now what?”
“Now you show us you can handle yourself,” Nicholas said, waving toward the center of the room.
A second later, a giant ball of glowing light, made from criss-crossing verses of spell formula, appeared. My eyes narrowed. I was surprised he’d managed to conjure something so complex with a wave of his hand—until I noticed the small tripod and globe beneath the actual globe itself. Ah. An enchanted object.
“You want me to read the spell formulas?” I guessed, cocking my head as I tried to follow the scrolling information.
Tough, especially since I could only see portions of the spell. Though even a quick glance told me that multiple spells were involved in the creation of the globe. In fact, some of those spells looked familiar—like that Fire Bolt one…
A fraction of a second later, a Fire Bolt formed in the center of the spell globe and shot toward me. I batted it aside with my shield, frowning. The spell was quite weak, so weak that it probably wouldn’t have killed me. Probably.
“What the hell?” I said. That was not how the examination was supposed to go.
“You will need to read, anticipate, and understand the spells formed by the globe and counter them. The testing globe will continue to release spells at timed intervals. Points will be awarded for spells that are blocked or counter-spelled,” Nathan said. As he finished, next to the spell globe, a scoreboard appeared with the number 001 on it. “You will need to score a minimum of a hundred to pass.”
When I opened my mouth to ask further questions, an Ice Bolt formed around the globe and shot toward me. Once again, I batted it away, watching as the points went up by another one.
“A word of warning. As time goes on, the spells you will have to deal with grow more complicated,” Mohammad said, offering me a thin smile.
I growled softly, keeping my shield up while focusing on the spell globe again. The new spell formula running across the globe was one that was familiar to me, and so while the spell globe formed the spell, I reached out with my Mana and disrupted the spell.
Mana Bolt Counter Spell Cast
Synchronicity: 89%
I received three points as the Mana Bolt fizzled out, its spell container disrupted by my injection of Mana. Counter-spelling came in many forms, but the one I had been taught was simple—the use of my Mana injected into the forming spell container, splicing my spell formula amendment to it. Of course, counter-spelling was complicated. You couldn’t throw random “numbers” at another spell formula, hoping they would stick. You had to actually know which portion you were targeting with your splice. On top of that, each spell had gaps within their formula, are
as where you could slide in your own Mana and spell formula. Miss those areas, and even if you knew what you wanted to adjust, you would still fail.
Counter-spelling basically required you to understand the spell formula being used and also be extremely quick at casting, since you were, in many ways, casting both the spell itself and the spell injector.
At first, I racked up points fast, counter-spelling everything the globe threw at me. The initial stages were simple—spells like Gust, Burn, Light, and the like were used in a combative form. Buckets of acid, sparks of electricity, and even waves of conjured water scrolled through the globe and were disrupted. I had to give it to the Mage Council—the spell globe was actually a good training tool. The wide variety of spell containers, delays in spell formation, and alteration in Mana channeling all required me to be inventive in my counters. But good tool or not, if this was the level of difficulty, this would be a cakewalk.
Ten minutes later, I was feeling the strain. My total score crossed the sixty-point range and my Mana dropped below half. From a slow and steady stroll, the spell formula had sped up, rolling past faster than the noob zone chat window on launch day. I’d stopped being able to read the spell itself and instead resorted to guessing. Which had obvious results.
“Head’s up!” I twisted at the hips and slammed the decahedron of platinum into the air with my staff.
The force applied to the end of my staff was enough to numb both hands and nearly tear the staff out of my hands entirely. Thankfully, it was still considered a win. My count went up by another point and the spell globe burped, another spell forming.
“Foolish,” Nicholas muttered to Muhammad.
Sadly, I couldn’t disagree. I stopped trying to counter-spell, my latest attempt a definite failure, and instead focused on defense. That meant I’d have to deal with a lot more spells, but better that than failure. To begin, I reconstructed my Force Shield, shrinking its size so that it only covered my body. Next, I curved the wall so that I wasn’t taking attacks straight-on. Not a moment too soon either, as the spell finished and a series of spinning air daggers flew toward me.
An academic portion of my mind noted that the air daggers weren’t contained once they were released, but instead they used a series of three points to make themselves. First, the point of origin, the second about halfway toward me, and the third very close to where I stood. The last two target points adjusted the air pressure and direction of airflow, guiding the air daggers that had been formed at the first target point.
The shield took the individual attacks with aplomb, the air daggers bouncing off with the sound of a bad dubstep, making me smirk. But already the next spell was forming and I was reading its data.
Holding the Force Shield was easy, but considering I had another forty spells to go, I considered better, more interesting options. Because each moment I held the Shield, my Mana dropped. As I grasped the content of the next spell, I dismissed the Shield and jumped straight into the air, using a quick cast of Gust to elevate me even higher. A second later, the ground burst into verdant greenery, grasping vines searching for me. I let loose a second burst of the spell, keeping me in the air while flattening the already dying vines.
And not once did I shift my gaze from the spell globe as another spell scrolled past. Only to be joined by a second scrolling formula.
“Two!” I growled.
But I raised my staff, invoking the pre-made shield in the spell to deal with the first spell formula. All the while trying to grasp what the second spell formula was. It seemed they were intent on ramping up the difficulty.
***
Five spells. None of them were particularly complex—Force Spears, Mana Bolt, Freezing Rain, and the like—but each of them was enough to knock me out. Five spells scrolled past at a clip, forming from the globe and targeted at me.
All around me, the ground had been torn up, baked, and frozen. If not for the spelled enchantments around the perimeter, the entire riding stable would have been destroyed already. The acrid scent of materials materialized then dismissed lingered, traces of acid, ozone, and burnt soil assaulting my senses. Each breath I took made my chest heave, my Mana levels barely above “Henry is conscious” levels.
Five spells. I began triple casting again, the first the counter-spell container, then splitting the container to hold the counter-spells for each of the injections I was using to break two of the five spells. In my hand, my staff glowed, helping to draw Mana into my spells, while the Force Shield blocked off the remainder attacks.
As the strain of managing multiple spells increased my headache, I gestured with my hand, snapping it forward. A flicker of information showed the low Synchronicity rates—barely in their forties—but I ignored them, even as the lack of proper casting drained more Mana. Rather, I focused on the three spells that were aimed at me.
Frost Spear, Wind Drill, and Metal Missiles all slammed into my Force Shield. I angled the shield to take the Spear on the corner, allowing it to glance off sideways and strike the enchanted protections behind. The Missiles were like raindrops striking my shield, plentiful and annoying but not dangerous in and of themselves. The Wind Drill curved at the last second, taking my shield straight-on. I growled, trying to reinforce the spell only for the increased force in the spinning Drill to shatter it. I threw myself backward, attempting to dodge the attack, but I could only watch as the Wind Drill neared my chest, ready to punch through.
Just before it could strike, Mohammad waved and the Drill dispersed, sending a blast of air that ruffled my hair even as I landed on the ground. A sharp pain radiated from my tailbone and I groaned, making a mental note to look into enchanted underwear again. As I struggled to my feet with the aid of my staff, I surreptitiously rubbed my bottom while glancing at the scoreboard. For the first time in a while, I had time to really look at it.
117.
“Har. Beat it.” I sniggered and slowly limped over to the testers.
Five spells might be my limit, it seemed. I absently eyed the experience notifications I’d received. The spell globe really was a great training tool, one that had pushed my comprehension and analysis of spells to a level I’d never had to get to.
“So do I get a nifty top hat or something?” I flashed the trio of examiners and Caleb a smile, only to find them staring at me in silence.
Chapter 12
“So what do apprentices get?” I repeated, waiting for the trio to speak.
The Mage Council examiners regarded me as if I were a bug that had crawled out of a movie theater seat, replete with stale popcorn and spilled soda. It was not the gaze of congratulations, which was rather interesting considering I should have passed.
“You were right,” Mohammad said to Caleb.
“I told you.” Caleb hocked a thumb toward me. “Though it seems that Mage Tsien has been holding back on me a little.”
“By… thirty points, I would say.” Nicholas sniffed. “It does not bode well for us trusting the warlock.”
“Mage,” I grumbled while rubbing my bum. I kept my head down though, since the one thing I really didn’t want them to grasp was how I’d soft-balled the entire test. I could have continued counter-spelling longer than I did, and I definitely could have continued to deal with the spells. While my Mana shortage was real—hard to hide that fact—how fast I was losing it and how fast I could regenerate it was something I was trying to hide still. After being tricked once, I wasn’t going to be dumb enough to reveal all my cards.
“Not if we don’t say so,” Nicholas said, glaring at me. He looked at my staff for a second, considering the piece of wood in my hand, before he turned to the others. “Your judgment?”
Patricia glanced at the spell globe then at me once more and nodded. “He has passed every test we have set. He is at the apprentice level at the least. A full Mage of the sixth circle.”
I blinked, knowing there were seven circles, with those in the inner circles—the lower numbers—the
most powerful. Caleb was considered part of the second circle these days. In that sense, I’d skipped the entire Apprentice level—or seventh circle—to become a journeyman. But it’d be at least one more circle before I could be considered a full member. In their view.
“Perhaps, but we are judging more than his academic ability,” Nicholas said. “He lacks discipline and the right mindset. His work is sloppy, if prone to brilliance. Though, I would venture, much of the latter is due to his jinn. Otherwise, he is middling at best.”
I narrowed my eyes but turned to Mohammad, who had started speaking. “Brilliance that we could harness. The theories he expounded upon in his essay are interesting. Both Beckett’s Theorem of Fundamental Formulas and Obibje Principle of Sevens were quite illuminating. I do not believe the combination Mr. Tsien recommended would work as well as he thought, but perhaps if we combined the Ozmas Principle—”
“Enough. No one wants to hear you prattle. Are you for or against his inclusion in our ranks?” Nicholas snapped.
“Well, he has passed our tests. I think, in that sense, we should at the least let him know our conditions,” Mohammad said.
Patricia nodded firmly, making me frown as Caleb stepped forward to speak.
“What conditions?” I said suspiciously.
“I told you the Council would have requirements of you. If we are to acknowledge you as one of us, if we are protect you, certain matters must be agreed on.” Caleb took a breath and forged on. “You’ll need to swear a binding oath to be loyal to the Council. And that, on your death, you would hand over the ring.”
“And no more hiding of your secrets.” Nicholas crossed his arms. “You will share everything that your jinn teaches you.”
“A binding oath?” My eyes narrowed. “I’m assuming you’re talking a blood oath?”
“No. A soul oath,” Caleb said.
I hissed, and even Patricia looked uncomfortable. I wasn’t surprised she was uncomfortable considering what a soul oath actually consisted of. Like its name, it bound me by my soul—the center of my being—rather than my body. Those oaths were nearly impossible to break, and when they were broken, they left the oathbreaker a shattered creature. Monsters were created when soul oaths broken, because the mind didn’t break—just the things that made us human.