Arc 5-Qualifiers-02
“Uh-huh. So, best ways to break him without making him entirely useless?”
“We can cater to his ego, provide him the validation he so desperately craves. Let him beco confident, perhaps grant him a sliver of the power he desires. He will build a proper following, one that may even survive for a few years.”
“I can see a problem with that. If he becos strong, actually strong, he’ll get cocky and co after . He hates , you know?” I’d do the sa thing and Mr. Self-Made seems a hundred tis pettier than .
“Indeed, though perhaps not for a while. Besides, he will never be an actual threat to you.”
“That’s true. I can think of a second alternative. Which I know you know.”
“Yes, we can also play to his anger, sothing you enjoy. Humiliate him to the point that he becos reckless. Who knows what he will do then. Soone pushed into a corner is capable of greatness…and terrible atrocities.”
Our options are watching him slowly build a following and reputation before utterly crushing him or driving him mad until he snaps and does sothing crazy.
“Let’s go with anger.” The first option sounds incredibly boring, which is reason enough to reject it. It also ans I’d have to hold myself back and watch him build sothing good enough to hurt once I break it, whether that’s power, allies, or reputation. That could take decades. I don’t have that much free ti. “I want him to be so angry that the sight of makes him faint from heatstroke.” Then we’ll see what lengths he’s really willing to go to for power.
“I have several ideas.”
“That we can talk about later,” I say quickly, seeing that’s she’s finished packing the boxes. “Co on, we don’t want to be late. Bell!”
There’s loud scampering as my favorite imp barrels down the stairs, stopping by my leg. She looks up at with four wide eyes and lets out a happy “Coo!” I hold out my arms for her and she leaps into them, settling herself against my chest. [I’m ready, Master Lou!]
“Good! We don’t want to be late!”
-
Alana is waiting for us outside the Bronze Dorm, standing to the side of the door. As usual, she is dressed in linens and light plate armor, the gray tal dull and scuffed from its frequent use. Her blonde hair has grown, the tips nearly reaching the base of her neck. She wanted to chop it all off but I managed to convince her otherwise, eager to see her with the standard appearance of a noblewoman. Don’t know how I’m going to convince once it becos long enough to be a nuisance but for the mont, she has it tied in a ssy ball, her longer bangs held back by twin hairpins with little blue and silver shields on them. Gifts from after hearing her complain for the umpteenth ti.
Her sword is strapped to her side as usual, one hand casually resting on the poml as she stares off into the distance. I pick up the pace, calling out, “Thinking about again?”
Blue eyes snap to . She frowns but quickly cracks under the pressure of my smile, lips twitching and eventually moving upwards. “Yeah, cause you’re bringing breakfast.”
“Cheh. You only want slaving over a hot stove for you, brute.”
“Only thing you’re good for, woman.”
I guffaw, delighted. Oh, I love when she plays my gas. It doesn’t happen often but slowly but surely, she’s relaxed that stiff personality I love and hate. I think I’m growing on her.
“So, do you want to sit down inside or—”
“Ah, no, no. I can sll those boxes from here. If those beasts in there get a whiff, they’ll never leave us alone.”
“Okay, usual place. Keep up, huh? We’ve got sowhere to be today.”
She scoffs. “I always keep up, don’t I?” she says, falling in beside as I break into a swift jog, Geneva and Bell behind us.
Since the unfortunate entanglent with Prince Samuel, we’ve taken to eating on the Dueling Field at least once a week. Or at least, Alana pesters to have Geneva cook for her at least once a week and I oblige. No more, though. Otherwise, neither of us would be able to stomach mundane food again. And that’s just her normal cooking, not whatever magic she uses to make simple ingredients taste like divinity.
“So, how are you feeling?” I ask once we’re on the field, boxes spread around us.
Alana pauses in shoveling down food to look up at . “Are you asking how I feel about the upcoming tests?”
“Was there anything else happening to today?”
“Maybe. Depends on you.” She grins at my narrowed eyes, taking a bite of a sausage. “You’re still too easy.”
“I prefer to call it optimistic. Now, stop making my innocent heart race you rogue and get on with what you were going to say.”
“Hm. I was talking to so of the foundation acolytes, to get information on the qualifiers. The specifics change every year but the overall tests remain the sa. It’s divided into three parts; a written exam, an interview, and a demonstration of ability.”
She grabs a napkin to wipe her hands before grabbing a bottle of juice. “There’s also a hidden test. Apparently, the first thing they do is asure all of the acolytes’ coefficients. Supposedly, if it’s below 100, they imdiately boot you out.”
“I see.” My coefficient was above that before I ca to the Hall. After several months of mana exercises, it’s sure to have improved, though I have no idea by how much.
“The exam itself covers a breadth of topics. Supposedly, you pass if you can answer the basic questions on spell variables and construct a few half-decent spells on paper. The more complex questions are there as a test, a chance to impress the instructors, sothing—”
“We have to do if we want to be invited into their classes.” Initiates receive the sa instruction during their first year, ensuring we’re all competent with the basics. However, advanced lessons are another matter. The masters of the Hall are not simple tutors hired by nobles, basically treated as a higher order of servant to their respective houses. They are powerful fighters and elites within their fields. They do not take in riff-raff with enough crowns to buy a place at the Hall.
“Miss Alyssa warned ,” I say in answer to her questioning gaze. “Apparently, I don’t make the best first impression.”
“Wonder what made her say that,” my friend says drily. “After the written exam is the interview. A panel of three instructors from the three major studies ask about your views on magic and goals or whatever else.”
The three major studies; spellcrafting, for those intending to be casters, foundation for those intending to join one of the knightly orders, and alchemy.
“The interview is the simplest part of the qualifiers as no one can fail. It’s—”
“Just another way to impress the instructors.”
Alana glares at . “Will you quit interrupting ? It’s annoying.”
“Ah, sorry. Sotis, it’s hard to ignore our connection.” I grin at her scoff. “And the last test?”
“A demonstration of ability. This is the test that changes the most. In previous years, there’s been tournants, single bouts. There’s been staged battles, pitting entire classes against one another. There’s also been demonstrations of skill, initiates throwing out their best spell. Don’t suppose you know what it’s going to be?”
“Why would you think I know?”
“You’re married to an instructor.”
“Ha! You think Kierra would help cheat?”
“No, but I think you might have gotten a few details to slip. You’re devious enough.”
“Thank you.”
“There you go taking my insults as complints again.”
“Please. We both know it’s how you show your love.”
“You really should see soone about those delusions.”
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