Two days passed in tense silence, Alexa’s few contacts unable to offer us any assurance. Even our attempts to speak to our governmental guardians were thwarted—the ever-present service vans that had been parked on our street for months gone.
We’d been left in the dark, so I spent my time working on the enchantments. I finished the portable shelter, then worked the portable flamethrowers while we waited for the next shoe to drop. Alexa had taken a leave of absence from her job, though they’d hinted that she might not be welcome back. Actions had consequences, and mine had lost her her job.
When a knock came on the door, I didn’t move from my work table, having nearly completed the weapons. After I was done, I planned to work on my staff. The layered defenses available on the staff would be greatly appreciated, even if—unlike the flamethrowers—I’d have to power the staff myself.
When Alexa lead Caleb into the room, I looked up, blinking in surprise at the Mage. “You’re back.”
“I am. I come bearing conflicted news,” Caleb said. “The Council is unwilling to risk further manpower on an untested warlock.”
“Mage,” I said, glaring at Caleb. I might not have been trained by the Mage Council, but I was a Mage. Bette than their apprentices.
“Warlock in their eyes. Many do not believe what I have reported, are unwilling to accept your potential,” Caleb said. “It is why I have bargained for you to take the apprentice examination early.”
“What?” I said.
“Pack your staff. We must leave if we are to make it to the examination.” Caleb gestured to the staff propped up beside me as my next project.
“I’m nearly done,” I said, gesturing at the tubes.
“Those things?” Caleb took one glance and sniffed. “They’re cumbersome and not worth the Mana invested. You should have spent your time on the staff.”
“Funny. But I like having more tools.” I looked Caleb over, shaking my head. “Not as if you don’t have your own enchantments.”
“They are accessories. Useful but unimportant compared to a proper staff,” Caleb said. “That we are forced to leave them behind by modern-day fashion does not reduce the staff’s functionality.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Heard it before.”
“You are right. Now, come.”
I dithered for a moment, not entirely sure I wanted to commit. But what choice did I have? At least the Mage Council was still willing to help. No matter how much I grew, no matter what Level I achieved, I’d still be outnumbered. As much as I might have disliked the Council, I needed them. I needed an organization at my back.
Letting out a breath, I grabbed my staff and stood.
Alexa cleared her throat, drawing my attention. “Didn’t we agree to something?”
“Sorry. You’re right. Is she allowed to come?” I looked at Caleb, who shook his head.
“Can you guarantee his safety?” Alexa asked, looking pointedly at Caleb.
“During the trial, yes.” Caleb cocked his head. “I can take you to the grounds. Outside. If he fails—”
“We’re on our own,” Alexa said. “I’ll get my spear.”
I tossed her the pair of finished flamethrowers. “Add this too.”
The blonde nodded, heading upstairs to get dressed and armed. Caleb sniffed, tapping his foot only to be brought up short when Lily stood.
“Leave us, Mage,” Lily said.
“I’m—”
“Waiting outside.”
Caleb narrowed his eyes, but when I cleared my throat, he relented and left, leaving Lily and me to stare at one another.
“We haven’t… talked since, you know,” Lily said awkwardly. “About me. About my… crimes.”
“Were they crimes?” I said.
Lily nodded.
“Were they bad?”
Lily nodded again.
“Bad enough to be put in a ring for all eternity?”
“I… don’t know.”
I nodded. “Yeah, thought so. We don’t have much to talk about then.”
Lily flinched, looking at the tops of her feet.
I winced, realizing how harsh that sounded, and put a hand on her arm. “Lily.” When she looked up, I offered her a small smile. “It’s fine. Whatever you did, it was a long time ago. So long it’s probably not relevant anymore.” When Lily flinched, I raised an eyebrow. “Never mind. It’s still not relevant. You’re you now. Not… whatever.”
“We’re still friends, right?” Lily said, sounding timid.
“Don’t have a choice, do I?” I said, trying for teasing.
When Lily shrank back, I winced and decided to shut up. I hugged the jinn, feeling the tension in her body that slowly relaxed and went away. Eventually Alexa cleared her throat, reminding me that I had to go.
“We’re friends. Now and forever. Promise,” I said. “But I got to go.”
Lily nodded, pushing me away. I headed off, catching her words just before I left.
“Good luck.”
***
Mundane. That’s a good description of my magical existence. No magical carpets, no teleporting rings, just a black four-door sedan that takes me out of the city and down the highway. Alexa’s seated in the back, dressed in her armored jacket and skirt, spear taken apart and laid out beside her. I’m up front with Caleb, watching as he guides us down the road with expert ease.
“No enchantments on the car?” I said, having finished looking it over.
“It’s a rental.”
As I said. Mundane.
“You should consider going over what you have learnt. There is no time to fix your staff,” Caleb said. “But some last-minute cramming would not hurt.”
“Actually, did you know that research has shown that last-minute cramming might actually be more detrimental than studying?” I flashed Caleb a smile, only to have him glare at me briefly before turning his gaze back to the road. “Fine. If I fail, you know who I’m going to blame.” When the silence grew colder, I added, “Me.”
“You’re really not as funny as you think, Henry,” Alexa said.
I grumbled under my breath but closed my eyes, calling forth what I knew about the examination. There were three sections in an apprentice exam. The first was theory—which mostly consisted of a written examination where I had to expound on formulas. This was my weakest area, and the area Caleb was hinting that I work on. While Lily might dump information into my mind, the way she did so was specific to spells, such that I often found myself missing important areas of learning. Or at least I used to. Lessons with Caleb and more spells had helped patch those holes. If I had to describe it, it’d be like learning high school mathematics—algebra, differential equations, logarithmic charts—and then realizing that you’d never learned how to do long division. Or, say, angles in a circle. Gods, I hated those.
The second portion of the examination I was much more blasé about. That was the practical examination where you were asked to show your command over magic. Apprentices were scored on the effects of their spells, and since I was, in terms of actual casting, much more advanced, I expected to get close to full scores. Even spells that I might not “know,” I could recreate by linking multiple aspects.
The last portion would be dealt with while I was writing the examination. That was where my staff would come into play, where I would provide the staff to them for review. They’d test the staff, reviewing it for flaws before marking it. I was much less certain of my results there. While I had some Master-level work in the staff, I was also still trying to make other portions of it work.
Still, I thought, overall, I should pass. But maybe a little more review of the theory would be best. Because passing wasn’t my goal anymore. I needed to be so good that they wanted me in the Council, that they were willing to put in real effort.
Resolved to do more than just pass, I went over my spells and the theories in my mind, allowing time to pass.
***
Since I’d refused to go to the Mage Council’s headquarters, the examination was being held in one of their many safe houses. In this case, it was a working horse farm. Stable? In either case, the farm had about four fenced off areas for the horses, a big stable, and another, larger covered riding ring on the right of the road. Dominating the entire location was the double-story white ranch house with its large windows and blue curtains. A trio of vehicles were parked outside, the truck being the only practical farm instrument. The other two were sedans like ours, city vehicles by the lack of dents and dirt.
Of course, my attention was drawn to the presence of the three examiners standing on the house-spanning front porch. How did I know they were my examiners and not stable hands? Well, their Levels for one.
Patricia Fitzgerald (Level 173)
HP: 180/180
MP: 1783/1894
Nicholas Diaz (Level 183)
HP: 141/147
MP: 1084/1147
Muhammad Black (Level 171)
HP: 201/204
MP: 997/1473
“Are all examiners that high level?” I muttered to Caleb as we got out of the car. I could feel the power radiating out from them, and Patricia had a half-dozen more enchantments on her than Caleb did. Obviously she didn’t agree with his “the staff is the best thing ever” line of thought. I thought I might even like her.
“No. Your case is unique. They are the head examiners for the three closest regions,” Caleb said.
Caleb stayed silent until we were close to the group, then he introduced us and them to one another. Of course, I didn’t mention that I knew their names already thanks to Lily. Be a little rude.
“The Templar must stay outside.” Muhammad stated that with a glare at Alexa.
“Ex-Templar,” she said.
“There is no such thing,” Muhammad snapped before running a hand across curly, close-cropped hair, glancing at my hand with Lily’s ring. “The jinn is not here?”
“She stayed behind.” Caleb added, after glancing at the ring, “In a manner of speaking.”
“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, areas 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.