"Greetings, students," Master Orion proclaimed from the podium, her youthful appearance belying her authority as a seasoned educator. Her distinctive coiffure, sporting a pink streak amidst black tresses, elicited whispered admiration among the pupils. "Until the initiation of the examination, I implore you to maintain the sanctity of your books and desist from any perusal."
Fin, embarrassed by his premature breach of protocol, promptly complied and cast a surreptitious glance around the classroom, realizing he was the sole offender. He resolved to keep his unconventional ways in check and avoid attracting undue attention.
"Let me commence by extending a warm welcome to the Arcanum and the inaugural examination," Master Orion continued, composing herself with a discreet cough. "With your guardians absent, I shall impart a more comprehensive insight into the proceedings of the day. While some of you may have received invitations to apply for specialties such as music, astronomy, mathematics, or equestrianism, the purpose of your presence here is to be assessed for admission into the hallowed Memora."
She lifted her arms and the walls receded, revealing rough-hewn stone walls in their stead. The pupils remained seated at their desks, now situated on a mica-speckled rock floor that glimmered like scattered glitter. Glistening stalactites dangled from the ceiling like frozen spears.
The fair-haired boy gasped, as murmurs of amazement echoed throughout the room. It was as if they were within the caverns of the Memora.
A young lady with yellow beaded cornrow braids breathed, "So cool."
In that moment, despite his father's warnings, Fin yearned to visit the Memora. It no longer appeared frightening, but rather, it seemed incredible - a chance to explore or journey to a new planet.
His father's warning echoed in his mind, "The magicians will beguile you with alluring mirages and deceitful fabrications. Don't be lured."
Master Orion continued, her voice growing more confident. "Some of you come from families with a history at the Memora, while others have been selected based on your potential to become mages. However, admission is not guaranteed and only the Masters can determine the perfect candidate."
Fin interjected with an impulsive inquiry, "What if one desires not to attend?"
West, a boy with lanky arms and legs and a mop of brown hair, inquired in disbelief, "Who wouldn't want to attend the pony school?"
Master Orion, visibly irked, reminded them, "This is not a pony school. You are being evaluated for the qualities necessary to become a Master's apprentice and embark on the journey to Memora. Magic proficiency is not a matter of choice, as attending the Trial is for your own protection and the safety of those around you. Legacies understand the perils posed by untrained mages."
A hushed buzz filled the room as Fin noticed the murmurs directed towards Samantha, who sat stiffly, chin held high, pretending not to hear the whispers. He recognized the expression as the same he wore when people commented on his limp, deceased mother, or weirdo father.
"What transpires in the event of failure to enter the Memora?" the girl with braids queried.
"An excellent inquiry, Beth Thompson," Master Orion responded in an encouraging tone.
"To become a proficient mage, three essentials are required. Firstly, intrinsic magical power, which you all possess to varying extents. Secondly, the understanding of how to harness it, which we impart. Lastly, control, which must stem from within. As untrained mages, your power is at its peak in the first year, but without instruction or control. Should you exhibit a lack of aptitude for learning or control, admission to the Memora will not be granted. In such a case, we ensure your permanent safety, as well as that of your families, from magic or any potential harm of succumbing to the elements."
"What does it mean to 'succumb to the elements'?" Fin pondered, echoing the confusion of others, who asked, "Does that mean I failed a test?" and "What does she mean?"
West repeated his earlier query, "So, this is definitely not pony school?"
Master Orion disregarded the questions as the vision of the cavern gradually dissipated, and they found themselves back in the familiar white room.
"The examination pens before you possess exceptional qualities," the Master stated, with a hint of nervousness returning to her features. Fin pondered her age, noticing that despite her youthful appearance accentuated by her pink hair, she must have accomplished great feats in magic to earn her title as Master. "It is imperative that you utilize these pens, as failure to do so will result in unreadable test scripts. Ensure to shake the pen to activate the ink, and do not forget to demonstrate your work methods. You may commence now," she instructed.
Fin reopened the book and viewed the first problem with scrutiny:
A dragon and wyvern depart from the same cave at 2 P.M., flying in the same direction. The dragon's flight speed is 30 mph less than double the wyvern's velocity. After 2 hours, the dragon is 20 miles ahead of the wyvern. Determine the dragon's flight velocity, taking into consideration the wyvern's vengeful intent.
He couldn't help but gawk at the mention of revenge in the problem. Flipping the page, he encountered another puzzling problem:
Mia is preparing to cultivate deadly nightshade this autumn. She intends to plant 4 patches of common nightshade, each containing 15 plants. She anticipates that 20% of the field will be used to grow a test crop of woody nightshade. Calculate the total number of nightshade plants and the number of woody nightshade plants. If Mia is an earth mage who has traversed three of the gates, estimate the number of individuals she can poison before being captured and executed.
Fin gazed upon the assessment with trepidation. The conundrum of having to determine the erroneous responses without unconsciously garnering the correct ones confounded him. The notion of haphazardly filling in answers repeatedly in hopes of obtaining a low score was tempting, yet the law of averages dictated that he would still achieve an undesired 20% accuracy.
As he ruminated on his dilemma, he snatched the pen and attempted to transcribe on the paper. To his chagrin, his attempts were fruitless. Observing his peers, he noticed that most were able to write without difficulty, while a few others encountered similar issues.
The irony of failing to take the test as a typical, non-magical individual was not lost on him. He worried about the consequences of leaving the test blank and whether the mages would require him to retake it.
Frustrated, he attempted to recall Orion's instructions regarding the pen and remembered a mention of shaking it to activate the ink. Perhaps he had not shaken it with sufficient vigor.
Gripping the pen tightly, he briskly shook it with increased force fueled by his growing annoyance towards the test. He silently implored the pen to function, his mind filled with vexation.
The pen erupted with a profusion of azure pigment, cascading from its nadir in an uncontrolled deluge. Desperately, he attempted to stanch the flow, applying pressure with his digit to the apparent source of the leak. Yet, this proved futile as the ink was propelled with greater intensity, splattering indiscriminately and indiscriminately, and smearing against the posterior of the chair situated before him. The blonde youth, perceiving the impending assault of the inky tempest, took evasive action and swiftly ducked, evading the trajectory of the mess. To the onlookers' amazement, a quantity of ink surpassing the pen's apparent capacity was discharged in all directions, eliciting disapproving glares from the surrounding onlookers.Fin's pen clattered to the ground, abruptly halting its inky emission. The resulting mess was substantial - his hands and workspace, exam booklet, and hair were stained with the blue pigment. Despite his efforts to remove the ink from his digits, he only man
Frost, incensed by the derision directed towards him as he took the task at hand seriously, lunged toward the suspended rope ladder with fervor. However, as he progressed up the rungs, the ladder appeared to elongate, rendering his ascent increasingly arduous. Eventually, the challenge proved too much, causing him to topple to the ground, engulfed by the coils of rope and wooden steps.Finick viewed the situation with amusement."Very well done," praised Master Eldritch. "Who wishes to make an attempt next?""Allow me to try once more," Frost requested, a hint of resentment creeping into his voice. "I am now cognizant of the approach required.""There are many aspirants waiting eagerly for their turn," Master Eldritch noted, exhibiting a noticeable enjoyment."It's unjust. Once someone succeeds, all will know the solution, and I am being penalized for going first.""It seemed to me that you were eager to go first," Master Eldritch retorted. "However, if there is available time after e
The indomitable Master Eldritch strode forth with ire, leading the cohort down the corridor with purpose, away from the examination chamber. The pace of the procession was rapid, rendering it impossible for Finnick to keep pace. His injured limb throbbed with pain, and the scent of burning tires emanating from him was overpowering. He hobbled in their wake, ruminating if there was ever a failure of similar magnitude in the annals of Memora. He dared to dream that they may grant him a premature discharge, both for his own well-being and that of his peers."Are you faring well?" Lance queried, slowing his stride to fall in step with Finnick. His countenance was affable and benevolent, as if their fellow group members' avoidance of Finnick was a trifle."I'm perfectly fine," Finnick replied through gritted teeth."I am at a loss to explain your feat," Lance marvelled. "The expression on Master Eldritch's visage was akin to..." He attempted to imitate the visage, furrowing his brow, dilat
The contenders congregated in the foyer, arrayed before a formidable portal, awaiting their summoning. Frost conversed with Lance, directing his gaze towards Finnick, who appeared to be the focus of their discourse. Finnick heaved a dejected sigh, recognizing that this final examination would likely have minimal impact on his abysmal academic record. Regardless of the outcome, he would soon depart with his father, completing this trial.A mysterious mage, adorned with an intricate serpentine necklace, approached without introduction. Perusing a folio, she declared, "Finnick Black, Master Zoltar is eagerly anticipating your presence within."Fin pushed away from the wall and trailed the mage through the double doors into a vast, dim chamber. The floor was made of wood, and upon it sat a solitary magician next to a substantial wooden basin filled with water and a flickering flame that burned without any visible source. Fin froze, feeling a sudden unease at the nape of his neck as he rea
Master Zoltar emerged from one of the doors with a commanding presence, causing the assemblage to fall into a hushed silence without uttering a single word. His piercing gaze scanned the room, eliciting palpable anxiety among some of the familiar faces in the crowd, including Sophia, Lance, Frost, and Samantha. The latter appeared composed, seated between an opulently dressed couple of dark-haired individuals with brown skin, elegantly attired in cream-colored attire."Aspirants of the year," Master Zoltar addressed the crowd, "I extend my gratitude for your attendance and tireless efforts during the Trial. The Memora extends its appreciation to the families who have supported and waited for the outcome." He paused, surveying the bleachers. "Nine mages are present and authorized to select up to six applicants each, who will serve as their apprentices for the duration of their five-year tenure at the Memora. This decision should not be taken lightly, as there will be more applicants th
Fin's father's sudden recoil was inadequate, as two mages forcibly pried Fin from his grasp. The father's outcry filled the air, but Fin's thrashing and resistance proved fruitless as he was hauled over to Lance and Samantha, who appeared petrified. Fin retaliated by launching a well-aimed elbow at one of his captors, eliciting a pained groan and causing his arm to be wrenched behind his back. The reaction from the assembled parents, who had come to observe their children's aerodynamics schooling, was a mystery to Fin."Fin! Listen not to their deceitful words!" His father's fervent shout echoed as he was being escorted out of the hangar by other mages. "They are ignorant of your true nature!" Despite the commotion, Fin struggled to comprehend the surreal events unfold.Suddenly, a glimmering object caught Fin's eye. Unbeknownst to him, his father had broken free and had thrown a dagger toward him. The projectile flew with uncanny accuracy, its blade aimed straight at Fin. In a daze,
Fin was plagued by a deep-seated aversion towards the school bus. His social awkwardness and perceived oddities had rendered him friendless, and even among the cohort of aspiring mages during the Trial, he stood out as peculiar. Yet, the bus offered him a modicum of solace, affording him a row of seats to himself, likely due to the unpleasant odor of burning tires he emitted. At this moment, all he yearned for was solitude to reflect on the recent traumatic events and the loss of his father. He felt a pang of regret for not having a phone to hear his father's voice one last time, and to seek guidance on his next course of action.As the bus embarked on its journey, Master Eldritch rose to address the students, detailing the structure of the Arcanum Year program. The students were to remain at the school for the winter, as it was deemed unsafe for them to return home with only partial training. The curriculum entailed working with their respective Masters throughout the week, attending
The nocturnal bus journeyed deeper into the stygian wilderness, as the last vestiges of twilight vanished from the horizon. Through the window, Fin gazed upon the celestial expanse, speckled with countless glittering constellations. The dense, leafy foliage of the forest and jagged rocks were obscured by the enveloping darkness, rendering them indistinct and eerie."And that's precisely what the Deathless one is waiting for, a chance to breach the Treaty," interjected Frost, his tone sardonic."He wasn't the sole practitioner of magic in his generation," Samantha added, her voice reverberating with reverence and conviction, as she recounted out the tale she'd learned by heart. "There was another, a valiant champion named Radiant Storm, who was slightly older than us, but she fought valiantly against the Deathless one and we were gaining ground. Unfortunately, the Deathless one committed the most heinous act imaginable." Lowering her voice, Samantha continued, "All knew that a great ba