None of us would have been able to speak, even if we wanted to, so all that was left for me to do was walk into my room and shut the door behind me.
The three of us avoided each other for the rest of the week.
By Friday, I had to redefine the word exhausted. At least mentally. I'd survived all four days of exams. Before, back when I'd been in university in the Soaring City, I'd loved studying and exams. There were very few of my friends I could admit that to but it had been something I'd excelled at, something that I looked forward to. Not anymore.
Maybe it was the combination of subjects, and just how much information we were supposed to cover. Maybe it was constantly trying to tone myself down but by the end of every day I couldn't imagine getting up the next morning and doing it all over again. Exhausted. I had written two days of exams, touching on every corner of the Western realms along with various pertinent details on the north, south and east.
And on the remaining days, I read books selected at random and wrote specific reports in the styles as required by the Archivists and the Keepers. It'd only been my good luck that stopped me from being assigned to a scholarly report at random. Because reports in general seemed to be one area where I didn't even have to try that hard to slow myself down, to make sure my grade wasn't all that memorable to whoever ended up marking my paper. I liked reading, and I liked retaining information, but picking apart novels to pull out specific types of information hurt my brain in more ways than one.
I stepped out of my bedroom and into the shared living space, where I found Steph already in the kitchen preparing breakfast.
"Hey," I said, testing out my vocal cords. My voice came out loud and clear, startling me and causing Steph to jump up in alarm.
"Good morning," she said, a little sheepishly.
"Look, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But I'm a little surprised you guys felt you needed to keep it from me. Did you think I would have a problem with it?"
"Maybe at first. But not really. I think the two of us were just kind of sorting it out for ourselves before we made it public. Honestly, we weren't even trying that hard to hide it. We figured everyone had kind of worked it out for themselves already, maybe saving us a few awkward conversations."
"Honestly, looking back, you might be right. I’m kind of oblivious about this kind of stuff so I may have missed a warning sign or two. But whatever you guys need from me, just say it."
Steph sighed and handed me a plate that had been sitting on the counter. It was heaped full of scrambled eggs, sausages, a couple of pancakes and some toast.
"Did you go all the way to the Archive to get this this morning?" I asked, still staring down at the plate in disbelief.
"No. I cooked it. You do remember that there are other ways to prepare food rather than having it magically delivered to where you are at any given moment, right?”
Now it was my turn to look a little embarrassed. "I may have gotten a little spoiled. But what's with the big breakfast?"
"There's still one more day of exams to get through. And I figured we were going to need some serious sustenance to make it through to the other side.”
Our final midterm of the week was the only one that wasn't taking place in the Archive itself. Instead, our entire class was to meet a group of the Protectorate at an indoor track and field center in the south end of Sanctum. We had been told with plenty of notice that we would need to wear comfortable workout clothes. Which, thankfully, had given me enough time to actually go out and buy some. For all our previous training sessions I'd ended up wearing track pants that were a size too big along with a baggy old T-shirt which I thought would help keep me cool, but usually ended up being more distracting than anything else.
Some of our classmates were already warming up when Steph, Gennie and I arrived. Some were stretching, others running in place. Only a handful looked remotely comfortable or like they had any real idea what they were doing but we soon followed suit, trying to limber up as best we could, remembering back to all our forced workout sessions over the last several months.
Not too far from us, Vince was doing sprints back and forth on his own, running for a few dozen meters, touching the ground, changing direction, then doing it all over again. It looked like he was going to exhaust himself long before he had a chance to take the exam, but it had become my philosophy just to let Vince be Vince, and to try not to take anything he said or did too closely in stride. It would only get on my nerves.
Feeling like I should be doing something, I reached down and touched my toes. Or at least attempted to. The reality was that my fingers still dangled several inches from the tops of my shoes, but it wasn’t worth worrying about, I doubted that at that point any extra flexibility was going to make much of a difference in the outcome of this exam.
I felt more than heard the difference in the stadium when the librarians entered.
As the crowd around me hushed, I turned to see a group of four Protectorate entering from under the stands. Each one held a hardness in their bodies that looked out of place beneath the loose-fitting librarian robes.
Usually, the bulk of the Protectorate were either out in the city, doing whatever it was they did in the name or the Archive, or even further afield, on missions for the Archive out in different countries and kingdoms throughout the Western Realms. But those I did see from time to time had a way of looking at the world and the people around them, more closely than I was comfortable with.
I was sure it was just a side effect of their usual duties, always watching for trouble. But even after making it through a year and a half in the Archive, I still wasn't comfortable with the idea of being watched or noticed.
That feeling only intensified when the four librarians split up as they neared us, forming a barrier around our group and revealing a fifth person behind the rest. It was Protectorate Spotswood, the Hand of the Archive and leader of his order. He had held the position for the last five years, ever since the order was founded, being promoted from his previous position as an Archivist, likely due to his impressive stature and physical prowess.
It was a prowess that was obvious to anyone who saw him, whether or not they knew what his actual role was within the organization. The man stood at almost six-and-a-half feet tall with broad shoulders, and thighs built like tree trunks. He was hard to miss.
And I had no idea that he would be the one overseeing our examination.
None of the other councilors had made an appearance during the last week, though I was certain they'd be reading over all our results in the days to come.
Our examination officially started with the blast of a whistle that had been hanging around Protectorate Spotswood's neck, as he called us over to him. He retained a flat voice as he gave a quick rundown of what we would be doing for the day, never breaking his serious tone, or so much as cracking a smile.
As he spoke, a rustle of movement from behind our group caught my attention and I noticed that the remaining four librarians had started moving about the field, setting up equipment they had brought with them, having either concealed it by magic or summoning it after they had shown up at the stadium.
Nothing about what I was seeing had me eager for what was coming next.
Without warning, Protectorate Spotswood blew his whistle once more, letting out two notes in quick succession, and we were off.
Chapter 10
Our first task had been to run through a circuit of various exercises, climbing over walls, scrambling up the ropes that had been spelled to hang in the air on their own – a decidedly unsettling feeling – pulling a dummy across the ground and more. The whole process lasted only a little more than twenty minutes for the entire class to run the circuit, but by the end I was huffing for breath.
The next section of our exam, which happened after only a ten-minute break, had each of us paired off with one of the more junior Protectorate to show off how many of the self-defense skills we'd been taught over the previous months h
ad actually stuck with us.
Here, there was no opportunity to try to hold back or temper my responses. As soon as Protectorate James started coming at me, fists flying, my body was left no alternative but to defend itself. I managed to dodge the first hit, and get in a kick toward the Protectorate's knees which did more to trip him than to actually damage his body, but it still felt like a win.
Shortly after, I was knocked flat on my face. Test over.
But from watching my friends in action, I had clearly done better than most which left me with a satisfying sense of pride that I tried to hide while looking sympathetic for each defeat in turn.
After that, we got a twenty minute break to rehydrate and see to the few minor wounds that had been inflicted during our sparring sessions. While Tommen’s dark skin would mask any new bruises that formed as a result of his test, from the way he was walking I suspected that he wasn't quite as good at the physical side of things as he was at the academic.
The whistle sounded again; it was a noise I was starting to hate with a vengeance.
"For your final test," Protectorate Spotswood called out, his voice booming over us without any magical amplification, "you'll be running." Not one person in the class outright complained, but I could practically feel the massive groan move through our group.
From the first time our class had been set to do a lap around the entire Archive, which was several city-blocks wide, running had become one thing that everyone in our year despised. It got a little easier the more we did it, but not by much.
The lead Protectorate's eyes narrowed. "You whine now, but the day your life is in danger, you're going to be damn well pleased that you have the stamina left to push your legs far enough to get you to safety. Especially with the way you lot fight." A few people snickered behind me. "All you have to worry about, is running as fast as you can for as long as you can. Speed is not nearly so much a factor as endurance. Protectorate Boggs will be jogging behind you, once you fall behind her, you are officially out of the test, and you are free to return home. I should hope not one of you will need any more explanation than that."
With what I hoped would be the final whistle blast of the day ringing in my ears, all forty-two of us set out in a clump, finding a place on the track and starting our run. Less than a minute later, Protectorate Boggs started jogging behind us.
At first, we all maintained more or less the same pace, an unhurried jog that made my knees ache a little with the uncomfortable stride.
I looked back to see Protectorate Boggs gaining on us. I must not have been the only one because the group quickly dispersed, speeding up and spreading themselves out as we each found our own natural rhythm.
Already, my lungs were starting to complain and my legs wanted to launch a few protests as well. But, I was comfortably in the middle of the group, exactly where I wanted to be. No one had fallen so far behind yet that they had been eliminated, which meant we still had a ways to go.
I quickly let myself fall back inside my mind, focusing on whatever tangent of a thought popped into my head rather than on what my body was experiencing.
One, two, three. One, two, three. Even focusing on the rhythm of my shoes hitting the ground was enough to pull me away from my reality and let me continue on.
Just keep moving.
At one point, my brain began to wonder what we had to look forward to for our finals physical exam, if this was only our midterm, but I cut that train of thought off before it could get too terrifying.
Next, I tried to figure out exactly how long Gennie and Steph had been seeing one another, and keeping it from me.
I wondered if either Jericho or Tommen had noticed when I hadn’t. Or if I should've figured it out faster.
I went from there to trying to figure out what Tommen thought of me, glad no one was close enough to see the embarrassed expression that instantly took over my now sweaty face.
Tommen and I had become much better friends over the course of the first half of our second year, but there was still a distance between us, an awkwardness.
That thought was enough to bring me back to the track, and the people around me. I turned my head a little, hoping to see Tommen somewhere nearby and found that while I'd been lost in thought more than half of my class had fallen out of the race. A few of them already lay sprawled in the grass in the center of the track, others had gone completely.
I made myself keep moving, while straining my neck to see what was going on behind me, just in time to see Jericho pass behind Protectorate Boggs, then slow to a walk.
There were only ten of us left.
Which probably meant that I could give myself an out, start slowing down, then pack it in completely. I'd already made it farther than I'd intended.
But just then, as I'd made up my mind to stop slowing down, a blur sprinted past me. Even in my surprise, I recognized Vince's form as he surged from the back of the group, toward the front.
Fine, I reminded myself. I wouldn’t let Vince’s ambition get to me.
It didn’t affect me.
But it was still annoying.
But then a second later, Steph passed me too with a frustrated grunt as she focused in on the back of Vince's head. "Oh no you don't," she muttered as she passed me.
Curious about what was going on, I pushed myself to keep going. My body was holding up better than I'd expected it to, and a competitive voice in the back of my head wasn’t quite ready to quit.
Yeah, I could give this race thing a little more juice.
I made myself push harder and immediately enjoyed rather than reviled at the feeling of using the muscles in my legs to their full potential. Neither Steph nor Vince were running a full sprint, simply picking up the pace from the jog that most of us had been maintaining so far, and moving into a run.
I caught up with Steph easily enough and fell into stride beside her.
"What are you doing?" I asked, drawing the last word out.
"Making sure this little weasel doesn't win the race," Steph answered between huffs.
"I can hear you," Vince called back.
"My exams didn't go as well as I'd hoped," Steph admitted to me as we continued to move, her voice quieter. "I did okay, I think. But the Scholar essay really killed me, and there were a bunch of multiple-choice questions that I'm sure I missed earlier. I need to do well here if I'm going to have any chance of grading better this year than I did last time. And beating Vince wouldn’t suck either.”
Steph gave me a pointed look. It took me a second to catch her meaning. She wanted to compete with Vince, and not with me.
At first, I was kind of annoyed at the fact that she seemed to be implying that I should slow myself down to give her a better chance. But that had been exactly what I'd intended to do all along.
I'd only even bothered speeding up to see what she and Vince had been up to, and now that I knew I had absolutely no reason to stay in the race. Especially if it was going to hurt Steph somehow.
A part of me still ached at the idea of giving up before I had to. Somehow, seeing the result of holding myself back in a physical form, rather than simply dumbing myself down in classes and for tests, felt like more of a crime against who I was than anything I'd done before.
But I knew well enough that this was not the time to make a stand for myself, or to change the plan.
Abruptly, I made myself slow down, stopping almost too fast and narrowly avoiding being slammed into from behind before I came to a complete stop.
Protectorate Boggs passed me soon after while I was leaning over, bracing against my knees and trying to catch my breath enough to start moving again.
As soon as I could, I pulled myself out of the way and over to the grass. My legs were no longer feeling anywhere near as powerful as they had when I’d been moving.
They no longer wanted to move at all and it wasn't long before I joined a few others, sitting down on the prickly lawn while my lungs struggled to keep up.
There were onl
y four left running, and Steph had surged forward again to be neck and neck with Vince, several feet in front of two other guys who were visibly slowing.
"Here," a gruff voice said from behind me, before a figure appeared at my side, handing me a bottle of water. I took the bottle greedily before looking up to see who had offered it, and finding Protectorate Spotswood looking down at me.
Even though there was no part of my body that wanted to, I hopped up to stand as soon as I saw who I was speaking to me. "Thank you," I mumbled.
"You were doing well at the end there," he said, no longer looking at me and instead watching the end of the race as it unfolded.
I, however, couldn't take my eyes off the massive man beside me. I wondered what magical abilities he possessed and if somehow they gave him even more of an edge physically than his body already had.
"What happened? You seemed to get in the zone, but then, all at once, you were all over the place. Then you just stopped."
Guilty, I shrugged. "I'm not sure. My body couldn't do it anymore."
The Protectorate turned to me, disbelief in his expression. "I've seen bodies when they give up, and I recognize the signs. That is not what happened."
He continued to study me but I didn't have anything else to say for myself.
I had given up, just not physically.
"You could have finished at the top of your class, and now you are here." The Protectorate didn’t bother trying to hide his disapproval in his voice. "Why are you here if it is not to give your best? Does the Archive not deserve your best?"
"Of course it does..." Finally, I looked away, shame making it too hard for me to continue to look directly at one of the people I aspired to be one day—someone who had dedicated their entire life to the Archive. Someone who had given it their absolute best, for years.
“In the future, I expect you to do better. We are back in classes next Monday, and I will be watching. To see if you do your best.”
Protectorate Spotswood didn't add anything else before disappearing behind me to talk to someone else, leaving me humiliated, standing alone on the field as I watched Vince's body finally surrender and Steph push ahead. Seconds later, the race was over.
Apprentice (Into the After Book 1) Page 8
