Heinrich shook his head adamantly as he locked eyes with Gilai’el. “The Empire provides translated versions of all but the most sensitive documents for public consumption, in any form which the citizenry might choose,” he explained with a chopping motion of his hand. “Ignorance is, by its very nature, not reason of any kind and certainly does not constitute grounds for cessation of the civic participation mandated by Imperial Doctrine.”
Tamlen raised his hands and began slow, measured applause which the Students nervously joined in after a few seconds.
“Well done, young Heinrich,” the Prefect said with a tilt of his head, “you have effectively paraphrased Arch Magos Rekir ‘Crimson’ Tyrdren’s fine work entitled Harmony vs. Balance, for which he received the rank of Arch Magos at a younger age than any who came before him.”
The Prefect then strode past the assembled class down the hallway, and Gilai’el followed him with Jon at her side. The large, red-haired man looked down at her and winked before whispering, “I’m of a mind with you, for what it’s worth.”
Gilai’el could not help but giggle as they made their way down the curved hallway for what must have been hours. There was no daylight streaming through any of the doors set at regular intervals along the bending walls, so it was impossible to tell where they had gone.
Then the Prefect stopped suddenly in a section of hallway that looked suspiciously like the one they had started in. “This is your new home,” he announced, turning to address the class.
The Students looked around in confusion, but before any of them could speak the inner wall with the alcove set into it (which Gilai’el noticed held ashes suspiciously like those of their burned papers) rumbled and began to rise slowly, revealing the center section of the College.
It was a round chamber with ever-widening bands of every different color with the outer ring being white, and the colors alternating and darkening toward the center, which was a black circle five feet across.
“This is your final test before gaining admittance to the true College,” explained Tamlen as he entered the chamber, which was about fifty feet across. “There are no beds,” he continued, “and no privacy of any kind. You one hundred six Students must learn how to erect a defense field around yourselves, at which time you must stand in the center circle and speak the word ‘Tun’dal!’”
At the sound of the old man’s last word, there was a bright flash in the center of the room and an accompanying crack as the energy dissipated into the air. Gilai’el felt the hairs on her arms stand up following the explosion.
“The Student attempting to pass this examination,” continued the Prefect after a dramatic pause, “must protect their body three times using this method in the span of no more than ten seconds, under the ever-watchful eye of the Custodians.” The old man gestured toward the outer edges of the room, where eight obsidian-skinned Custodians stood motionless at regular intervals.
“You have fifty weeks to complete this entrance examination,” the Prefect said as he strode to the center of the room to stand in the center of the black circle. “Everything you need in order to successfully erect a defensive ward is written on these surfaces,” his arm swept across the entire room, and Gilai’el saw that nearly every inch of its inner surface was covered in writing which scrawled and twisted to form large glyphs and symbols used for controlling magic.
“There are many methods described here, but be warned,” he added with a smirk, “former Students may have made some…modifications to the methods described in these writings. You would do well to use your wits — as well as your intuition — to solve this riddle, but you must use only that which you brought with you; you cannot accept assistance from another Student. The College record for passing the entrance examination is twelve days,” he glowered at the assembled Students from the center of the room. “I do not believe any of you are capable of challenging it.”
With that, he closed his eyes and turned his face to the ceiling before shouting, “Tun’Dal!
There was a whump, and a globe of sickly yellow light flared into existence around the Prefect a second before he repeated, “Tun’Dal!”
Again, there was a nearly sub-audible whump, and his fields flared even more brightly. Gilai’el was reminded of the time the bald wizard’s fields had deflected the entirety of her Uncle Yav’el’s attacks. She could barely believe it would be that exact spell which would grant her entrance to the College!
After a three-second pause, the Prefect shouted, “Tun’Dal!”
The eight Custodians stepped forward as one, until they surrounded the Prefect, and assumed positions standing just outside the black circle.
The Prefect’s body began to rise, as the floor beneath him pushed up toward the high ceiling, where there was an iris-shaped portal made of what looked to be iron.
Just before his head touched the portal, the iris retracted, and the Prefect passed through it. There was the sound of scraping metal, and the cylindrical column which had raised the Prefect through the ceiling quickly began to descend until it was once again level with the floor. The Prefect himself was nowhere to be found, and Gilai’el looked up to see the iris was once again closed. Deciding it was time to get to work, she turned to examine the scrawling words printed on the stone walls.
Jon stayed by her side as she did so, and he also began to examine the writing there. For once, after feeling dozens of eyes fall on her filled with envy or anger, she was glad to have the large red-haired man at her side.
9
Frustrations and Sandbaggers
After two weeks, no one had successfully raised a defense field capable of withstanding even one attack from the iris, which was apparently the source of the test. All eight Students who had attempted to pass the examination had been rendered unconscious and were carried away by a pair of Custodians, only to return a few hours later with no recollection of having attempted the examination — or even of their studies regarding the proper method to summon the spell!
It had become apparent that randomly attempting to piece the spell together was at least as bad as being overly patient or methodical in attempting to ascertain the proper sequence, and likely more so since all prior efforts needed to be repeated after a failed attempt.
“No,” insisted Jon, “if ye try forming the spell in that manner, it’ll explode in yer face!”
Gilai’el was really getting tired of his incessant corrections and observations. “If you believe you know the method, then why have you not yet attempted the examination?” she hissed, trying to keep her voice low. The uneasy truce they had struck with their sleeping neighbors was tenuous, and Gilai’el had no desire to see her red-headed companion add a third notch to his belt.
Jon shrugged. “It’s not as if we’re short of time,” he replied. “I want to make sure and certain I’ve got it rock solid ‘afore attempting to pass the test.”
Gilai’el studied the diagrams and the stated sequences for constructing them in her mind and shook her head dramatically. “This is pointless,” she declared, lying back against the floor as she did so. “These sequences are incompatible at best, and at worst are an outright trap designed by a vengeful Student of a prior class!”
Jon gestured for her to calm down. “Ye might not be seeing it correctly,” he offered. “Perhaps there’s more to it than the simple, line-straight logic?”
Gilai’el sat up and glared at him. “If there were more to magic than simple logic, then what is the purpose of the massive volumes describing the proper methodology for generating a particular effect?
Jon nodded patiently. “Perhaps,” he replied quietly, “they act more akin to signposts, rather than a proper map?”
The raven-haired girl had to suppress the urge to flop back onto the floor in despair, but she had learned over the previous days that Jon was no fool when it came to magical theory. She genuinely wondered why he had not already at least attempted to pass the examination.
“Think on it thus,” th
e redhead continued, “if ye travel a road, and ye come to a sign which says ‘Veldyrian: 1.2 Wings,’ one way and ‘Jon’s pigsty: 2.6 Wings’ to the other.”
His attempt at brevity had succeeded in boosting her spirits, and she had to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep from bursting into laughter.
Jon winked at her before continuing, “What would you think if you took the left-hand path, but then after half a wing you come to another fork in the road and this one says ‘Veldyrian: 0.7 Wings’ and ‘Jon’s pigsty: 2.3 Wings.’”
Gilai’el opened her mouth to protest the analogy, but Jon took his finger and traced out the basic locations he had just described on the floor, and she finally knew what he was trying to say.
“You mean,” she began slowly, “that the method varies based not only on the steps which have come before, but on the relativity of the caster and the desired effect?”
Jon nodded his head patiently. “Aye, and if ye have a Scarlet trying to cast a spell designed by a Jade,” he prompted.
But Gilai’el’s mind was already well past where Jon was trying to lead her. She understood now that the concentric, multi-colored rings laid out on the floor were the key to deciphering the methods presented on the stone walls!
She began scribbling furiously on the back of the papers she had used to translate the rare tome penned by Merton Veldyrian himself. After a few minutes of laying out the final details, she presented it to her red-haired companion.
He examined it for a few moments and cracked a grin. “Exactly like that,” he agreed in his thick accent before adding, “but only for a Scarlet.”
She nodded and took another fresh piece of paper as she glanced repeatedly at the concentric rings of color shown on the floor of the chamber, before scribbling out the proper sequence for a caster with a Jade aura. This one was completed even more quickly, and she presented it to Jon who gave it a cursory glance before nodding.
Gilai’el felt her stomach tighten with anger. “You knew how to do this the entire time?” she growled.
Jon held up his hands in mock self-defense. “Of course,” he replied in a hushed tone, “it was plain as the sun in the sky why they’d give us the colored diagram on the floor, all the while ignoring its existence.”
“It was not plain to me,” she snapped.
Jon shrugged. “What can I say?” he winked. “I’ve a talent for seeing through to the heart of things.”
The redheaded man stood and offered Gilai’el his hand. “Shall we?”
The raven-haired girl accepted his hand, but when she had regained his feet, she shook her head. “I must help my Housemates,” she explained before turning to join a pair of House Listoh Students. Jon grabbed her by the arm and leaned down as she whipped her head around angrily at him.
“I don’t think the Custodians would take kindly to ye doing that,” he said with a pointed look at the nearest armored guard.
“House Listoh does not forget her own,” hissed Gilai’el as she wrenched her arm free from his grip.
Jon held up his hands warningly. “All right, all right,” he conceded, “you pass the exam, and I’ll be the one to tell yer friends about the method. I can do it in a way they won’t suspect, but you,” he gestured, “they’ll be expecting you to break the Prefect’s rule of non-interference.”
Gilai’el narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before nodding curtly. “I suppose my method should be proven, but I warn you,” she held up a finger, “if you do not keep to your word—"
“Aye,” he rolled his eyes, “House Listoh and its bargains, the whole world knows how yer people feel about that. It will take only a few minutes for me to explain it to them, in any event.” The red-haired man gestured for her to proceed, and with a swarm of butterflies beating a storm in her stomach, she strode to the center of the room.
When she was standing in the middle of the circle, Gilai’el lowered her eyes and examined the diagram she had written before closing her eyes and concentrating.
She imagined the first symbol in her mind and heard whispers throughout the room as the other Students woke their neighbors in the hope of witnessing another spectacular failure.
When the first symbol was firmly in its place in her mind’s eye, she summoned the second to its side, and it complied quickly. Gilai’el willed the third glyph into being, then the fourth and the fifth.
The growing sequence of symbols began to writhe in her mind’s eye, and she knew that it was working! Her confidence grew as she placed the final symbol into the writhing, circular sequence of glyphs, which burned with a bright, red light in her mind’s eye.
Gilai’el swallowed the knot in her throat as she relaxed her mind and allowed the spell to draw the required energy from her body. At first, it was difficult, but after nearly a minute of strained concentration, she felt her fingers and toes begin to tingle, and that sensation spread throughout her body as the spell burned with increasing brightness in her mind’s eye.
She knew it was ready, and the raven-haired girl had never been one to shy away from a challenge, so she released the spell from her mind and instantly she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
The whispers of the other Students seemed muffled somehow, and when she opened her eyes, she saw the faintest shimmering red field hovering just beyond arm’s length in front of her.
Gilai’el took a deep breath, and as she let it out, she focused on maintaining her connection with the defensive spell. “Tun’Dal!” she shouted, and immediately she felt as though her entire body had been compressed by a massive, concerted force.
The Students who had still been asleep awoke with a start, but she had no time to focus on them. Her shield had been severely weakened by the first blast, and she needed to feed it more energy before it collapsed.
Gilai’el closed her eyes and did so, channeling more of her own inner magical energy into the spell, causing it to bow out defiantly as it resumed its perfect dome shape.
When it was ready, she repeated, “Tun’Dal!”
Again, the pressing weight against her fields was incredible, and this time it somehow stole the air from her lungs. She collapsed to the ground and felt her fields threatening to burst from the combined force of the iris’ attack, as well as her momentary lapse of concentration.
She fought to regain her feet, but the air refused to enter her lungs. Gilai’el forced her ribcage to open, and a great sucking of air rushed into her chest more painfully than any other breath she had taken in her life. She knew time was against her, so she fed every last drop of energy she had into the field before gasping, “Tun’Dal!”
The third impact smashed into her fields, and she felt her legs give out beneath her at the sudden drain of her magical energy. Though she struggled to support the spell, she had no more energy with which to do so, and it collapsed shortly after she hit the floor. Her breaths came in shallow, irregular gasps as she struggled to retain her consciousness.
It was only after she was certain she would not pass out that she opened her eyes and lurched backward reflexively.
Arranged around her were the eight Custodians, who turned their backs just as the black circle of stone began to rise into the air. Gilai’el looked up in wonderment as the iris opened shortly before she was lifted up and out of the sight of her fellow Students. The last sight she had of that room was of Jon’s lopsided grin.
When the platform had ceased its upward motion, she saw that there was a large corridor stretching out before her. She struggled to reach her feet, but when she did so she stepped off the black circle and onto the stone path.
The iris closed behind her immediately, and then she could hear nothing. Gilai’el turned and took a few measured breaths before proceeding down the incredibly dark hallway. She saw the door at the end, and when she reached it, she gave a shove.
The door opened into an office of some kind with simple appointments, including a desk with two chairs on opposite sides. There was a pair of Custodians standing
behind the desk, and between them was another doorway. A glow globe illuminated the room with its soft, yellow light. She stood in silence for many minutes before approaching the desk, as much to catch her breath as to process her successful completion of the entrance examination.
She moved toward the chair on her side of the desk and looked around. Aside from a small bookshelf, there was nothing else of interest in the room, so she decided to investigate its contents as she clutched her translated copy of The Journey for Enlightenment to her chest.
The books were numbered in gold leaf but were otherwise identical. Medium in dimension nearly an inch thick, they were bound in dark brown leather. The lowest shelf was full, and contained volumes one through fifty, while the seventh and uppermost shelf contained volumes three-hundred-one through three-hundred-ninety-two.
Just as she reached up on her tip toes for the final volume in the series, the door between the Custodians opened, and Prefect Tamlen came into the room with a book identical to the ones on the shelf under his arm.
“Sit, Student,” he instructed as he did so himself in the chair nearest the door.
Gilai’el turned from the bookshelf and did as the old man had instructed. When she was sitting in her chair, she nervously looked between the two Custodians flanking the Prefect.
“I must admit,” began Tamlen appreciatively, “I did not believe you were capable of completing the task in such a timely fashion. In truth, yours is the second fastest completion of the entrance examination in the College’s history. You should be quite proud.”
Gilai’el kept her mind clear as the Prefect narrowed his eyes at her. She knew that either Jon, herself, or both of them might receive punishment for their collaboration on the project, so she pushed those thoughts far from her mind.
“Before you,” he gestured toward the book he had brought with him, “is the official roster for class three hundred ninety-three.” The Prefect opened the book. “I have already made your preliminary entry on the first page. All that is required is three of your own signatures. The first on the inside cover, top left of the page. The second at the end of your two-page entry, and the third on the inside of the back cover.”
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