Chapter 2: The Test

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How long they stood there in the entry hall, Vivienne couldn’t say. Long enough for the late afternoon light to fade into early evening outside the open front doors, which took about four hours, given Volsung’s fifty-four-hour days.

It was all she could do to stand completely still and not move a muscle. Multiple times, she wished she had used the head before stepping ashore. This had to be some sort of test, but of the one hundred or more recruits here, no one had turned to leave.

Vera stood to her right, a constant, annoying presence. Worse, Vivienne couldn’t get her out of her peripheral vision, making her constantly aware of her sister.

Just as Vivienne was about to give in and ask Talent Sebastian how much longer, a heavy door opened at the end of the chamber. Every head turned to observe as a line of elder men and women slowly approached, each robed in a vibrant hue representing their chosen Aspect. Red for Thermalism, Orange for Atomicism, Yellow for Dynamism, Green for Radiance, Blue for Binding, Violet for Psionics, and Gray for Gravitonics.

The man in the red robes walked with a hobbled step, followed by a short woman with dark skin, of a similar age and wearing orange. Then came a mage in yellow robes; he had an elongated form and a narrow, solemn face.

Next was a white-haired woman in green robes with sharp features. It appeared she could hardly walk. She held her side, as though nursing an old wound that she had learned to live with, but she pressed on, refusing to yield to the pain.

As the rest of the group filed into the hall, Vivienne was surprised to see the last man. He was clearly advanced in age, even more so than the rest, but exuded an air of dignified authority that commanded respect. His robes were pristinely white and glowed with power. A Septagon adorned his chest, featuring seven colored jewels. Faint lines connected the gems one and two spaces apart, and a multicolored cape trailed behind him, shifting through all the colors of the spectrum as he moved.

Vivienne finally looked at the man’s face, a visage that embodied true sorcery. His silky white beard hung down to his chest, and although his skin was withered from time, his blue eyes remained sharp and lucid. A trace of a smile touched his lips as he regarded the young recruits before him. Vivienne had the sense that even if he couldn’t find help elsewhere, he at least found it in them.

There was no mistaking who this was: the Sorcerer-Ascendant himself, Arian. Unlike most mages, who were bound by the rules of magery, where the creation of every stream was almost like following a formula, he was capable of the higher mysteries of magic. Sorcery, they called it. Vivienne knew little about it, but from her research, it meant they were not bound by the same rules as a typical mage, that they simply had to imagine the outcome they wanted, and they could produce it. It was what every mage aspired to be, but fewer than one percent of mages was strong enough to learn its secrets.

Deep in her heart, Vivienne knew that one day she would join their ranks. And nothing could shake that conviction.

Sorcerer Arian took a single step forward. “Welcome to Volsung Academy. Thousands have entered our halls over the years, and I expect thousands more will continue to do so in times to come.”

Vivienne felt her breath catch as the Sorcerer-Ascendant paused for a moment to reflect.

“We will not waste time. Your journey has been long, and no doubt, you are eager to begin your instruction. Long have you traveled, some of you from the edges of inhabited space, for the mere chance to learn from the best mages in the Worlds. But not all of you will get the honor. Indeed, most of you won’t.”

Vivienne swallowed a throat lump. It will be me. It will be me. It must be me.

“The first test will not take long. We do not expect that you have learned how to stream yet. Indeed, according to League Law, you are not supposed to do so outside these walls until you rise to the mantle of Talent. Instead, I will determine with a single glance from my Focus whether you have the gift, a spark worthy of being fanned into flame. If you pass the selection process, you will immediately be sorted into your primary Aspect for which you have the greatest affinity, of which there are Seven.” He offered a small smile. “I already see the questions on your faces. All that will have to wait. Besides magical training, you will receive instruction in more mundane fields based on your scoring on our entrance exam.”

Vivienne nodded. She’d completely aced the entrance exam, which had been incredibly brutal. The exam determined if there was anything lacking in the basic instruction she would receive through basic university. Because she’d passed with only a few inconsequential questions missed, all of her time and energy would be dedicated to magical instruction.

Assuming she was accepted, of course.

Arian continued. “With proper training, a dedicated mage can master all Seven Aspects. But we start with just one. If you show aptitude, you can branch out later, perhaps even unlocking the higher mysteries of magic.”

“Sorcery,” Vera whispered under her breath.

Vivienne glanced in her direction, noting her sister’s dark, eager eyes before quickly redirecting her gaze forward.

“Now,” Arian said, “I will determine your Aspect. Please wait your turn.”

Vivienne felt her heart race but remembered the meditation technique she’d been practicing for years. It was the technique all mages were required to learn if they ever hoped to detect their Focus, the key to unlocking their magic and streaming from the Ether. Despite her nerves, she felt herself calm, at least somewhat.

Time passed. She heard the whispered words of Arian as he began in the first row. For the first, he pronounced Gravitist, and the young man was separated from the rest and went to join Transcend Gray, who waited in the wings. But the very next one, the Sorcerer-Ascendant simply said, “thank you,” and they were escorted to the door by a waiting Talent. For everyone who passed the initial test, there were three who were dismissed.

The fourth recruit, however, was not having it. Vivienne recognized him to be one of the boys licking Vera’s boots earlier on the ship. “I traveled six months to come here!” he said, his face red. “I have no money to get back!”

Arian bowed his head somberly. “The rules, I’m afraid, are unbending.”

The recruit opened his mouth again to speak, but a dozen Talents, previously unseen, stepped from the shadows between the columns of the entry hall. The recruit, who’d looked as if he were ready to lambast the great sorcerer again, wisely curbed his response.

After that, no one protested Arian’s decision again.

Vivienne’s emotions were a whirl, masked only by trained calm. She just wanted this to be over with, for better or for worse.

It only took the Sorcerer-Ascendant a few more minutes to reach Vera, who was on Vivienne’s right. She was almost as nervous for her sister as she was for herself.

Vivienne opened her eyes, and from the corner of her vision, she could see Arian leaning forward slightly, arms outstretched, his form surrounded by a greenish aura. Vera watched him, completely unfazed.

“A . . . uniquely strong Focus. You are a Psionic.”

A uniquely strong Focus. What in the Worlds did that mean? Why was it different for her than for everyone else? Would he say the same thing to her?

Arian next came to Vivienne. She forced her eyes to stay open, and she had never felt more nervous in her life. A cold sweat broke on her forehead as her heart seemed to thrash in her chest. Everything in her life, it seemed, had built toward this moment.

If Vera were accepted, but not her, she would rather die.

Arian’s sharp blue eyes met hers as she felt a cool sensation envelop her from head to toe. She fought the urge to shiver. Something seemed to click within her mind, as if there were a brief connection, like a light switch turning on.

“Psionic,” he said simply.

And then he moved on, and the feeling disappeared.

As his presence departed, she let out a breath. She had passed the test. But even if she should be leaping for joy, she fought to conceal her disappointment. There had been no special word from him, no confirmation that she was at least as strong as her sister. Plus, she was also a Psionic, which likely meant she would be sharing lessons with Vera.

And now, Vera was looking her way, ever so slightly. Vivienne didn’t even need to see her gloating smile to know it was there.

Eventually, all the recruits were divided into seven groups. There were shockingly few. The ship this morning had been filled with at least two hundred recruits, hand-picked by the Testers from all over the Worlds as having the greatest potential.

Now, among all those, perhaps fifty were left in the vast entry hall, and the fact that all of them were split into each Aspect, led by one of the elder Transcends, just added to the sense of isolation.

Arian stood at the forefront. At some unseen signal, the other Transcends came to stand beside him, lending their support and gravitas.

“You have been chosen,” he said, “because each of you has the potential to not just stream magic, but to become a powerful mage in your own right. While all who just left have the potential to learn, they are unlikely to stand up to the rigor of the Volsung Academy’s instruction.”

At these words, each recruit seemed to swell with pride.

“But . . .” the Sorcerer continued, “not all of you will be found worthy in the end.”

Vivienne could feel the deflation of the others around her.

“Only one in four Novices ever rises to become a Talent. Such is the training that most give up, and those who don’t are dismissed and sent to a state mage school, where they can better thrive. The Bronze Doors of the Volsung Academy are never closed. You’re allowed to leave at any time. Because once you become a Talent, your posting here is for life. Many enter, believing they are ready for the burden.” Arian’s face turned grave. “But they soon learn that magic tolerates no weakness.”

Vivienne glanced around at the recruits in her Psionics group. Aside from her and Vera, there were six others. They were similarly sizing her up. If what Arian had said was true, only one or two of them would become Talents in the end. Vera’s eyes met hers for a moment, and their pride seemed to say that Vivienne would be the one to give up. Vivienne faced forward.

“And now,” Arian said, “your training will begin. Talents of your Aspect will soon distribute your Novice robes and a blunted shockspear. The shockspear is the chosen weapon of the mage, a recent innovation from the masters of this very Academy. It will direct your magic, and it allows for self-defense if an enemy gets too close. For in the end, we are technically a military institution; while we are allowed our independence, in the rare case of war, we may be called to serve. Besides this, should you become a Talent, you may travel to dangerous places at the Academy’s behest. These spears are for practice only. If you prove worthy and become a Talent, you will receive your very own shockspear, Psionically attuned to respond to your touch alone.” Arian gave a regal nod. “Good luck. You are officially a Novice of the Volsung Academy. Your formal training begins tomorrow. Once you receive your robes and practice spear, Talent Justinian will show you to your dormitories, where you may take a thirty-minute break to refresh yourselves before dinner.”

Arian turned away from the recruits, suddenly looking exhausted. He nodded to his contemporaries, who all filed out of the large entry hall through the same door they had entered from.

Vivienne felt the weight of the plain brown robes and blunted shockspear wordlessly handed to her by a Talent from her Aspect, a woman of middle age with dark brown hair and glasses. The fabric was coarse but not uncomfortable, and the spear felt right in her hand. As she grasped the practice weapon, it felt surprisingly light. Some sort of carbon alloy, then. It was about as tall as she was. From her own understanding, a real shockspear extended and retracted with the mage’s mere thought, but she doubted this one did the same. She wondered if she would ever earn a real shockspear, attuned to her unique Psionic abilities. A spark of excitement and trepidation flickered within her.

Talent Justinian, wearing a gray sash of the Gravitists, took control, clapping his hands, which echoed throughout the vaulted hall. “All right, you lot! Follow me to your rooms. Anyone who lags will scrub the toilets!”

That got everyone moving. Vera fell in beside Vivienne as they followed Justinian down the lofty hallways, the clack of spears on the stones echoing. They passed many gray-robed Talents on various errands, some talking and laughing, others scrutinizing the fresh-faced Novices with curiosity. They also passed Novices in unadorned brown robes, busy with various chores related to the building’s upkeep. Vivienne noted that the building seemed to use only candles and floating orbs of light rather than electricity. This was no surprise to Vivienne, as she had already read the student handbook thrice through. The Masters of the Academy had determined that even electricity was a distraction. They forbade even the use of the GalNet except for specific instructional purposes.

Vera leaned over, her voice low. “Magnificent, isn’t it?”

Now that Vera wasn’t showing off, she seemed eager to speak with Vivienne.

“Yes,” Vivienne responded cautiously. “It is.”

“I’m going to become a mighty sorcerer,” Vera said. “The strongest in all the Worlds!”

Vivienne couldn’t help but smile at her naivety. “You think you have the talent?”

“I do,” Vera said, unfazed. “More than that . . . I have the will. No one, not even you, can stop me.”

“Why would I stop you? You're good enough at doing that yourself."

Vivienne smiled, pleased with the barb, but her heart fell when Talent Justian stopped the group to face them. “Perhaps you would like to continue your conversation while cleaning the bathhouse?”

“I thought it was the toilets,” Vera said.

A few Novices snickered, waiting for a reaction.

Justinian frowned grimly. “That’s it. Both of you will clean the communal bathroom tonight. And every night for the rest of the week! Report to me after dinner for you assignment. And another word, you’ll be sweeping the entire antechamber!”

Vivienne felt her face flush and bit her tongue before she could say something she regretted. Why was she being punished? Her sister had been the one to talk back!

Justinian eyed the rest of the group, who were as silent as a crypt. When they resumed walking, Vivienne stewed in anger. Vera played it off, shrugging and even smiling a bit. She’d gladly stab herself in the eye if it meant getting under her skin.

Ignore her, Viv, her father had always said. You’re the one who gives her the power.

But he never understood—it wasn’t that easy. Why was she always expected to be the stoic one, to take the moral high road, when Vera seemed to get away with literally everything?

Because I’m the favorite, Vera said in her mind. Always have been. Always will be.

Vivienne dispelled the thought, letting out an irritated breath. This was not the start she had wanted at the Volsung Academy.

Chapter 3 coming next Wednesday!