by B. T. Narro
Unable to control sartious energy even half as well as Effie, Basen thought of a strategy more suitable to his skills. He gathered bastial energy as he would when preparing a fireball, willing the hot energy into a cluster just in front of the tip of his wand. The heat of the BE tore down his wand, to the fingers and knuckles on his left hand. The bite of pain reminded him of his recent injury at the training center. An unbidden voice urged him to stop. He ignored it.
He quickly sent sartious energy out from within his wand. It entered the cluster of bastial energy and caught fire. This was the easy part, and no different than casting a fireball except that he now had to hold the burning bastial energy steady, keeping it far from his hand so as not to be burned. He stepped backward for some distance, keeping in mind that the farther he was from the energy, the more difficult it became to hold. The burning ball snarled with rage, trying to escape the grasp of his mind.
“Careful, Basen!” Penny cautioned with more alarm in her voice than he had yet to hear.
He fed his small sun more energy and watched it grow as he stepped farther back. The energy sought freedom like a bull, and the cage of his mind weakened with each breath he took.
As the bastial energy burned, he felt his hold on the swirling fireball diminishing. He couldn’t feed it quickly enough to maintain control.
Luckily he was as far away as he wanted to be—the same distance Effie had been from the far end of her torrent of flame. He heard the students behind him scurrying to create even more distance, just in case this went awry. Part of him thought to tease them for not trusting him, but he didn’t have the focus.
He split his concentration, one part of his mind holding the sphere of energy still at seven feet from him and the other part pulling it toward him, stretching the burning energy as if it were dough. His concentration was almost broken by a clamor of startled shouts as the fire speared straight at his chest.
“Relax,” he managed to utter, not wanting to worry about another noise that might startle him. “It’s under control.”
“Basen, that’s enough!” Penny warned him. But he was almost done anyway.
The base of the fire stretched as thin as a rope as its tip came at him. Soon it reached its limit and could not be pulled any farther without breaking apart. It looked like a spear of fire pointed straight at his heart. He held it there with his wand out, letting Penny see its full length.
With his last effort, he willed the remaining BE that hadn’t been burned to go the opposite way, toward the training dummies. The spear of fire shot forward and splashed against the center dummy’s chest, not unlike a quick stream of water hitting a rock.
Basen fell to his knees, now drenched in sweat, half from the heat and half from his efforts.
“That cannot count!” Effie complained. “There must be a rule against such a dangerous tactic as pulling the energy toward us.”
“There isn’t,” Penny answered, though she didn’t look pleased as she glanced sideways at Basen. “Because no one has been stupid enough to try.”
Basen mustered up the last of his strength so he could stand and puff out his chest in mock pride. “Until now!”
Although some of his classmates laughed at his quip, Penny just scowled.
“I’m going to let that stand as legitimate,” she said, “but you should be aware that safety for yourself and others is part of what is judged when determining your group number.” She came toward him and lowered her voice. “Basen, if you do something that dangerous again without first telling me of your plan and getting permission, it might be the last spell you cast within these walls. No accident has ever led to a mage’s death at the Academy, and I’m not about to let you change that.”
It hadn’t seemed that dangerous to him. He would never let the energy slip from the grasp of his mind. But he hadn’t considered how it would look to those watching. They had no idea whether he could maintain hold of such a tremendous amount of energy. Of course they would worry.
He apologized and went to join the others.
Although he’d been surrounded by men and women like him since arriving at the Academy, he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that he was different from all of them, that he didn’t quite belong here. He hoped that would change in time, for he could think of no place better where he would belong.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
While waiting in line for his lunch, Basen noticed Sanya alone at a table, eating quickly as usual. The need to hurry stirred in his chest. She would be gone soon.
It was up to the instructors when to allow their evaluation group to break for mid-day meals, so Basen never saw the same people in the dining hall. With Sanya always hurrying to get somewhere, the chances of finding her there were slim.
He got his food and walked briskly toward her table. The bruising and cuts on her face were nearly gone, a testament to the healers at the Academy.
His heart sank when she stood to leave just before he reached her.
She threw up her hands. “Basen! You should’ve gotten here earlier.”
He mimicked her gesture “Sanya! You should’ve gotten here later.”
She glanced behind her to check for eavesdroppers. “Yesterday, Annah came back.”
“She’s to live with you still?”
“Yes, can you believe it? They still haven’t figured out why the psychics at the Academy were certain she was lying while the psychics at the castle were certain she wasn’t. So they just…let her return here. I don’t trust her, and there are no locks on our bedroom doors! I need to find Terren and convince him to take a better course of action than putting her back into my house. They should at least stick her with three roommates instead of one. Then more people can watch for suspicious behavior, and she’ll be less likely to do anything.”
This was the first time Basen had seen some of Sanya’s old self come out, though it was only a shadow of how she used to overreact. At least this time there was logic involved. He would’ve been uncomfortable living with Annah, too, after what had happened, though he wasn’t sure he would try to have her moved.
“Sorry I can’t stay,” she concluded.
“It’s fine.” He made a sweeping gesture at the empty table. “My plethora of friends will keep me company.”
She giggled as she touched his arm on her way past him.
He sat with a sigh. At least his food was delicious.
Someone squeezed his shoulder while walking around him. Glancing up, he was delighted to find it was Nick taking the empty bench on the other side of the table.
“How goes endurance day for you?” Nick asked.
“Not as I’d hoped. I made my instructor angry.”
“I told you not to tell that joke about the voluptuous queen!”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be sitting here if I had. No, it was something far less amusing.” He described the spell he’d cast and the dialogue that had followed.
“No, you didn’t do that!” Nick said with an incredulous smile. “You’re being serious?”
“I am.”
Nick guffawed. He had to set down his fork as his laughter grew to a howl. It drew the gazes of everyone near them.
“I don’t understand,” Basen admitted. “It wasn’t that funny.”
But for some reason, that only made Nick laugh harder as he tried to get out words. “I can’t believe you pulled the fire toward you…and the other students!”
“They’d cleared out…mostly.”
“I would’ve given anything to see your instructor’s face.”
“Not enough time has passed for me to appreciate the humor.” Basen let out a nervous chuckle. “How goes endurance day for you so far?”
“Perfect. I’m fairly certain I’m going to be put in Group Two.”
“You’re content with second best?”
“Oh…you don’t know. And why would you? Group Two is what you should strive for, Basen. In Group One, everyone’s competitive and dedicated, and they’re all second- and
third-years.” He grimaced and shook his head as if those were terrible things. Then he raised his eyebrows and lifted a finger. “But in Group Two, everyone is just as competent, yet they enjoy themselves. They don’t kill themselves over the competition. They relax, and there are more first-years. Those are the women you want.”
“Women? When did we start talking about women?”
“It’s always about women. That’s another thing you should learn.”
Basen grinned. “Are you sure that isn’t just an excuse for when you get into Group Two instead of Group One?” he teased.
“It’s a better excuse than coming here without knowing how to meditate,” Nick quipped in return.
A fearful realization set in. “Don’t tell me that’ll be tested.”
“No, because our instructors figure we all know how to do it already.” He flashed a friendly smile. “It’s humorous, isn’t it? You’re probably the best I’ve seen at manipulating bastial energy, yet you can’t do the first thing every mage learns.”
“Hilarious,” Basen said sarcastically.
“I tease, but you shouldn’t worry. I’ll find a way to teach you how to meditate before anyone finds out.”
“I appreciate that.”
When the time came to return to class, Basen realized he had at least one true friend here.
The second half of endurance day was even worse than the first. Each challenge pushed him to hold a spell as long as possible, and this only became more difficult as the afternoon dragged on.
Eventually, Penny announced that it was time for the final challenge of the day. Basen found the other first-years smiling like he was, but then he noticed Effie’s look of dread, matched by the other more advanced students. It’s too soon to relax.
They followed Penny out of the training area. Basen wondered what she would have them do away from the classroom and the training dummies. He shielded his eyes as he looked toward the sun. It was still a good height over the Academy’s western wall. Plenty of time before sunset. Either this day would end earlier than the last two, or the final challenge of endurance day would take hours.
“Where are we going?” Basen asked Effie.
“Warrior’s Field.”
“What in god’s world are we to do there?”
“God’s world?”
It had slipped out. “A Tenred saying, not to be taken literally.”
“You should speak more like me if you want to fit in, Tenred Boy.”
“All right. What in the bastial shit are we to do there?”
She chuckled tiredly. “Never in my life have I said that.”
“Bastial something. I can’t remember. Anyway, what are we doing on Warrior’s Field?”
“We’re to run.”
“Just run?”
“Just run,” she confirmed in a weary voice. “They save the worst for last.”
Glancing around, he saw more mages, all of them walking north like his evaluation group.
By the time they’d gone around Redfield at the center of campus, there were hundreds behind them. Penny led their group to the nearest corner of the enormous field of lush grass. She stopped to allow them to gather there. Every mage in the Academy clustered around the edge of Warrior’s Field with them, no one daring to actually set a foot on the grass.
“Wait quietly for Mage Master Trela,” Penny told them and gestured toward the center of the field.
Trela wore a blue robe that shimmered in the light breeze as she conferred with the headmaster. Past them, on the opposite corner of the field nearly a mile away, were the warriors, the most numerous of the four classes at the Academy. Somewhere among them was Sanya, Cleve, Effie’s man—Alex, and every other warrior in the Academy. Basen didn’t like how this looked.
Finally, Trela began the long walk from the center of the field toward the mage’s corner as Terren stayed in the center. Basen knew nothing of the mage master of the Academy. She seemed to be middle-aged unless her hair had gone gray early in her life. He wondered if she truly was a master, able to cast every spell with more finesse and power than the next mage, or if it was only a title. There were many in Tenred castle whose titles belied their talents, though something told him it probably wasn’t the same here at the Academy.
The hundreds of mages gathered around Basen fell completely silent as Trela came to stand before them. Basen wished he wasn’t so fatigued from spending the entire day pushing himself to his limit, but he supposed everyone else was just as tired.
“Instructors, get your evaluation group in position,” Trela announced.
Penny took them to the field’s edge and then made the turn around it to go north. She stayed a few yards from the grass as she walked, everyone mimicking her as if the grass were sacred.
“Form a line,” she told them. “If you think you’ll be running around this field faster than most, come to the front. If your pace will be slower, move to the back.”
Basen moved to the front. He wasn’t the fastest sprinter, but he’d always been able to run long distances better than any of his peers.
Soon their line was set. There was another young man in his evaluation group who wanted to be at the front, and Basen let him. He looked back to find Effie right behind him. Behind her was every other mage, as the other evaluation groups were put behind Penny’s. On the opposite corner, the warriors lined up in the same fashion.
“As a mage you will be required to keep up your physical stamina as well as your mental stamina,” Trela announced, practically screaming to be heard by the long line of mages wrapped around the corner of the field. “You will run when Terren raises his arm. Do not touch the grass. If you wish to pass someone, you will do so on their outside. Do not to touch others. Your instructor will judge you based on the speed at which you finish.”
“Trela, are you ready?” Terren yelled from the center of the field.
“Almost!” she yelled back.
This didn’t seem so bad. It was probably only two or three miles around the entire field.
“Make sure your instructor sees you each time you finish your lap,” Trela continued.
Each time? Dread fell upon him. Even two laps would be difficult in his current state. Please only be two.
“You are to complete three laps,” Trela announced. Basen winced, the news actually causing him physical pain. “Each lap is two and a half miles. If you cannot travel all seven and a half miles, then you don’t belong at the Academy. Walk if you must to finish.”
“Seven and a half miles? Isn’t that a bit excessive?” he asked Effie.
“Yes. I think the only reason they do it is to give this day infamy.”
“Well, their strategy most certainly works. I’m already dreading this day next year, and I haven’t even finished it yet.”
“Try not to let any of the warriors pass you,” she warned him. “I heard they trip male mages or push them onto the grass.”
He rolled his eyes. “That rivalry is idiotic and completely one-sided. How common is it for the warriors to pass the mages?”
“Very.”
“Lovely. What about mages passing warriors?”
“None last year.”
Terren raised his hand, and everyone began to run. For a while, anger at the warriors’ attitude filled his thoughts. Then his mind began to clear as he found his rhythm.
Halfway down the first side of the field, Basen realized the pace set by the man in front of him was too slow for his liking, and he passed by to take the place as the first mage.
“Good luck keeping that up,” the man called after Basen snidely.
He ignored him, too determined to catch up to the thick-skulled warriors. It might not be during the first lap or the second, but he would pass at least one of them before he finished the third. It seemed absurd to him that no mages had done so last year. There wasn’t that much of a difference in physical endurance between the classes, was there?
He shot a few glances back and forth between the
mages behind him and the warriors across the field. The warriors were larger, but they were also much faster. It wasn’t that they were fast in general, though. The mages just seemed slow. He began to think about the mages and warriors he’d met at Tenred for comparison and realized that the warriors there were all in better physical shape than the mages because their training required it.
I suppose it’s not that strange for it to be the same here.
By the time he came to the end of the first lap, there was an enormous gap behind and in front of him—none of the mages had any hope of catching up, but the warriors were still a good mile ahead. He had to pick up his pace.
“Slow down,” Penny called to him from the grass. “Or you’ll regret it by the last lap.”
Again she doubted his ability. He wanted to convince her that he knew his own body’s capabilities better than anyone. This test is as good a chance as any.
A deep burn began in his chest halfway through the second lap, but he was gaining on the tail end of the warriors. His legs ached as he refused to decrease his speed.
Disappointment set in as he came close to the end of his second lap. Still a half-mile ahead of him was the tail end of the warriors, and they were now in the process of passing the slowest mages. One of them was male, and the warriors bumped into him. He stumbled and then fell into a roll as they backed away and pretended not to be the cause.
If I don’t pick up my pace, I’m only going to pass my fellow mages, Basen sadly realized. He pushed himself harder, the pain in his whole body increasing. It would be unbearable by the time he finished.
He ran around five walking mages, then ten, then fifteen before he came to another gap between students. He was just starting his third lap by then, and at the corner ahead of him seemed to be a cluster of both warriors and mages as all fought for space around the tight turn.
Basen saw a blond warrior clearly shove a male mage, sending him tumbling onto the grass. The mage quickly jumped off it, bumping into a female mage and causing them both to fall. Other mages and warriors had to jump to the side to avoid them as more pushing ensued.
