Elina collected her token with brisk efficiency, glanced at the room number, and imdiately headed toward her designated area. She didn’t spare Alaric so much as a backward glance as she disappeared into the academy’s corridors.
Alaric twirled his own token between his fingers before pocketing it, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth seeing her retreating figure.
That’s really cold sister.
He trailed toward his corridor, boots echoing against polished stone.
The examination room was austere but functional, rows of wooden desks arranged with mathematical precision, tall windows providing adequate light, and absolutely nothing that might aid or distract a test-taker.
He found his assigned seat and settled in, noting how the other examinees filed in with expressions ranging from confident to terrified.
Monts later, the door opened. A woman in gray examiner’s robes entered, followed by three assistants carrying neat stacks of parchnt.
Her hair was cropped short, and her expression suggested she hadn’t smiled in a decade.
"Place your tokens on the desk in front of you," she said curtly.
A hundred slips glowed faintly as candidates obeyed.
"Your identities are recorded. Any attempt at substitution or trickery will be caught, and you will be expelled imdiately. Do not test ."
The assistants moved down the rows, placing thick sheets in front of each examinee.
Alaric glanced at his, pages upon pages of questions in crisp script.
He sighed through his nose.
"Begin."
When the signal was given, quills scratched across parchnt like a swarm of insects.
Alaric began at an unhurried pace, words flowing steadily. His mory was sharp, his logic sharper, and Selene’s tutoring had filled in most of the dry details.
Halfway through, he let his quill still. He glanced down the sheet, still dozens of questions remaining.
"By the gods..." he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for the candidate beside him to shoot him a panicked look.
"Couldn’t they have reduced the damn number? Why so many?"
Shaking his head, he bent to finish.
By the ti his quill scratched the final answer, a quarter of the room was still sweating over the middle sections.
He leaned back, chair creaking slightly, and raised both arms in a long stretch above his head.
"No unnecessary movents during the examination," The examiner’s voice cracked across the hall like a whip.
"Sit properly."
Alaric lowered his arms with exaggerated slowness, clicking his tongue. He propped one elbow on the desk, resting his chin in his palm.
"Can’t even rest for a mont," he muttered to himself. "What’s next, no blinking, even breathing?"
A couple of nearby examinees tried and failed not to smother their laughter.
The examiner’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing further, moving down the rows like a hawk searching for prey.
Alaric’s gaze drifted lazily across the hall, his answers complete, his patience thin.
--------
"Ti’s up. Stop writing."
The examiner’s clipped word froze the scratching quills mid-stroke.
So examinees sighed in relief, having managed to complete their papers within the allotted hours.
Others groaned audibly, knowing they’d missed crucial questions or left sections blank.
A few sat back with confident smiles, who thought they had conquered it all.
Assistants moved swiftly down the rows, gathering the thick sheets of parchnt.
Each student, in turn, received another small bronze token, this one etched with a different set of runes.
Alaric turned the token over in his hand, studying the faint shimr, then slid it into his pocket as he rose.
The room emptied in a shuffle of boots and hushed whispers.
He stepped into the corridor, intent on finding his next hall, when a familiar figure erged from a side room just ahead.
Golden hair, unkempt as though its owner hadn’t bothered with a comb.
Dark circles that made the lazy blue eyes stand out like chips of ice. Hands shoved in pockets, shoulders slouched.
Caleb Duskwood.
Alaric’s lips curled faintly.
He half-expected a sharp remark, maybe a sneering jab, or at least a disdainful glare.
That was Caleb’s way, wasn’t it? A noble brat playing superior at every chance.
But the boy didn’t even glance his way. His eyes drifted past Alaric as if he were no more than another shadow on the wall.
No snide word, no twitch of recognition. He just strode on, unbothered, as though Alaric had ceased to exist altogether.
Alaric raised an eyebrow at the unexpected behavior.
He watched Caleb’s figure disappear into the crowd, then he shook his head and dismissed the thought.
Whatever had changed in the Duskwood heir wasn’t his concern. He had his own things to do.
The second phase awaited, and dwelling on other people’s problems wouldn’t help him secure his place at the academy.
The second phase took place in the academy’s training yards, a vast complex of interconnected courtyards designed to test every aspect of a candidate’s practical abilities.
Stone circles marked different testing stations, while essence-detection crystals humd softly from mounted positions around the periter.
Alaric’s new token directed him to Station Seven, where a stern-faced examiner waited with a clipboard and what appeared to be several pieces of testing equipnt.
Around him, other examinees were already engaged in various trials, so manipulating flas or water, others demonstrating physical techniques, a few solving complex puzzles under ti pressure.
"Alaric Glimor," he announced, presenting his token.
The examiner, a middle-aged woman with silver streaking her brown hair, checked his na against her list. "Master Kovren. I’ll be evaluating your aptitude across multiple disciplines today."
She gestured to the first station, a series of essence crystals arranged in a geotric pattern.
"Begin with basic manipulation. Channel your essence into each crystal in sequence, maintaining steady output for thirty seconds each."
Alaric stepped forward and extended his hand toward the first crystal.
Fla essence flowed from him in a controlled stream, causing the crystal to glow with warm orange light. He moved thodically through the pattern, first crystal, second, third, each one responding to his energy with increasing brightness.
"Fire affinity," Master Kovren noted, making marks on her clipboard. "You have an adequate control. Now demonstrate combat application."
The next station featured a series of training dummies made from reinforced wood and enchanted to absorb impact.
"Show three different attack techniques using your essence manipulation."
This was more familiar territory.
Alaric drew upon his Scorchblade Arts training, though he kept his more advanced techniques concealed.
A basic fla blade materialized around his hand, which he used to strike the first dummy with controlled force.
The second received a fla arrow, a projectile of concentrated fire that left scorch marks across its surface.
For the third, he simply coated his fist in fire and delivered a straightforward punch.
"Combat proficiency noted. Can use diverse application of fla techniques."
More notations on the clipboard.
"Physical conditioning next."
They moved to next area.
The endurance test was straightforward but grueling, weighted carries, obstacle navigation, sustained essence usage while performing physical tasks.
Alaric completed each challenge efficiently.
Around him, other examinees were undergoing similar evaluations.
He caught glimpses of impressive displays, an elven candidate whose wind manipulation created miniature tornadoes, a northern-born examinee who summoned ice constructs with artistic precision, another one demonstrating earth manipulation that spoke of serious recent training.
The final component was problem-solving under pressure.
Master Kovren presented him with a complex scenario involving resource allocation, tactical decision-making, and ethical considerations, the kind of multi-layered challenge that would face academy graduates in their future roles.
"You have fifteen minutes to present a solution," she stated, activating a timing crystal.
Alaric read through the scenario quickly, analyzed the variables, and began outlining his approach.
The key was balancing competing priorities while maintaining ethical standards, exactly the kind of challenge he’d faced in his previous life, though he couldn’t ntion that experience.
"Ti’s up, give your answer."
He presented his solution concisely, explaining his reasoning and acknowledging the trade-offs his approach would require.
Master Kovren made final notes on her evaluation sheet.
"Your assessnt is complete. Proceed to the waiting area for further instructions."
As he left the testing station, Alaric caught sight of other examinees in various states of completion.
So looked confident, others appeared shaken by the challenges they’d faced.
The academy was efficiently sorting candidates according to their capabilities, and the pressure was beginning to show on faces throughout the training yards.
The second phase was proving every bit as demanding as promised.
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