The main campus where the written tests are held are in the neighbouring section. I quickly grab my satchel with my writing supplies from Alan– having a brief talk in which he both congratulates me and consoles me for my results– and heads off at a brisk walk, buying a grilled vegetable skewer from a street vendor along the way.
The easiest tests to schedule were the three mandatory ones: math, history and law. Everyone has to take them, so they have the most slots to take them in. With this in mind, I started with the least common tests when filling in the schedule and then selected times based on availability after that.
The least common tests are astronomy and navigation, which are only available in the late evening but are near the math test, so I scheduled that right before the other two to minimize travel distance.
The math test is in a large auditorium with a steep seating area that consists of rows of benches with a writing surface in front of them. It’s a little uncomfortable for me since they are fixed in place and were designed for someone taller, meaning I have to stretch to reach it a little. The room seats about a hundred people and is about half filled by the time I get there. The front wall has a curtain covering it which I deduce the questions are behind from the armed guard in front of the pulley rope.
Everyone is crammed as close as possible towards the front presumably so they can see the questions better. I decide to sit where there’s the most space in the very back, since I won’t have to worry about seeing with the bird god’s boon. Odd how a combat boon might advantage me in an academic test.
About ten more minutes pass with more test takers pouring in before the proctor, a middle-aged man in figure concealing robes and a slightly hunched back, comes in.
“Alright,” he says, no nonsense, “first things first, everyone spread out. Arm’s length between each of you.” There's a few minutes of shuffling around which results in people coming much closer to me than I would like, though I’m still in the most spacious section. “Alright, now here are the rules. You may have any amount of paper in front of you, plus writing implements. Nothing else. You may have as much paper as you want, but once the test starts you may not retrieve any more, nor may you remove anything from the desk. All paper will be collected at the end of the test regardless of if you have used it. Make certain you place your full name on the top of each sheet used. If you run out of paper, or did not bring any with you, then up to five sheets of free paper will be provided at the crown’s expense. It is shit poor quality and tears easily. Same with writing implements. Raise your hand now if you need any.”
More shuffling as the commoners are handed pulpy paper and coarse charcoal pencils, making me very glad for my excessive 50 sheets of the highest quality paper that I acquired from Alan for each of my tests, as well as the high precision magic pen he lent me. Truly, the empire does a fine job of trying to provide a fair test regardless of background, but money still provides advantages in unexpected ways.
“Now then,” the proctor says after everything is settled, “as you should know this test has a default value of negative one hundred. If you do not reach a positive value, you will be disqualified from the entire exam. Though you will still be allowed to take whatever tests you have scheduled for the sake of receiving certificates. In approximately one minute the curtain on this wall will rise to reveal forty-six numbered questions of increasing difficulty. They are worth points equal to their number. A bonus point may be awarded on harder questions for solving them in particularly elegant ways. You have three hours to complete as many questions as you can. Once the curtain rises you have one minute to raise your hand and tell me if you can’t see all the questions so I can switch your seats with someone with better vision. Before that happens, are there any questions about the format?”
A few raise their hands with easily answered questions and then we begin.
A quick calculation shows that answering the first 14 questions are sufficient to pass, but I sense this is a trap. Just because they are the easiest doesn’t mean they are quick and so doing them might prevent me from getting to the point richer questions. A quick glance shows at least two questions that require dozens of individually easy steps that nonetheless need to be written out to arrive at a correct answer.
So, there is a forty-seventh question: calculate which questions will return the greatest ratio of points to time invested.
I start with the hardest and go back until I find one I know how to do, which is the 39th. It’s relatively simple once you understand it, so I quickly write out the solution. I also know how to do 38, but it is much more complex and time consuming, so I skip it for now, writing the number on the side as a reminder. I don’t know how to do 37, and 36 is complicated, but 35 is simple enough to do immediately.
I continue like this until I reach 15– which I choose based on the assumption that the one after the trap would be less time consuming than the ones before it, which seems to prove correct. As I go down I write all the numbers I know how to do but are too slow for the first pass on the side in order of apparent time consumption. I assign a semi-arbitrary number that inversely reflects the time estimate to each of them (higher being quicker) and multiply that by the actual points. I then go work through them in order of those results.
When the three hours are up I’ve worked my way through about half of my list, and, assuming I got everything right, should have achieved 347 points, minus a hundred for the default negative and not accounting for any bonus points or errors. A little less than I hoped, but still decent. Not enough to stand out though, since most mages learn math as part of their negotiations, but it should at least put me over most squires.
With the time over everyone stays seated and still as the proctor moves along the rows with assistants in an arduous process. With each test he takes a folder from one assistant which he places the test inside of, seals with wax he takes from a second assistant, verbally confirms the name which he writes on the outside of the folder, and then hands it to a third, more muscular assistant who holds every test.
I fidget a bit nervously as he makes his way towards me, well aware that my position in the back means that I get to leave last– an annoying oversight made when selecting my seat. Really it’s just nerves, I know. There’s a whole hour between tests, so I should have plenty of time, though I was hoping to grab a snack in between.
When he gets to me he gives an odd look at the 43 expensive extra sheets that went completely unused, muttering “A donation to the crown I suppose.” Though he doesn’t seem to note the order in which I answered the questions, which reassures me that doing so was the expected strategy.
Once the test is in the third assistant’s hands I pick up my satchel from under the bench and rush out the door to my navigation test.
Fortunately, this one is much less strict and involves only a half dozen youths rotating between several maps writing the answers to several questions regarding travel times for various situations. There’s also a magic room which creates illusions of the outdoors in which the task is to use the provided tools to figure out where in the world you are.
I don’t do very well, since I never did finish learning from Martin after he changed boats, but I think I should still get positive points. I especially don’t do well in the illusion room, though it is fun. I do much better in situations set at night though, due to the tie in with astronomy.
I don’t know why the astronomy test is so late in the day as it takes place entirely in another, larger, illusion room in which the tested are shown various night skies and have to answer questions about them regarding when they are, noteworthy events, and roughly where it’s shown from. I think I do much better at this one.
With that my last test of the day is done and Alan picks me up in front of the building as planned. I tell him how I did, but don’t really listen to him as I read the law book all the way home in an effort to cram it in before the test as it is still my weakest subject.
When we get home the servants have made us a morale boosting dinner which I overindulge in the expressed hopes of it putting me to sleep– which luckily works after a quick 1-hour bath.
I get up well before dawn to another well thought out breakfast from the servants, which I eat moderately to avoid sloth, but with relish. I ride with Alan to my first test and promise to get lunch together since there’s a gap in the schedule.
My first test of the day is applied theology which takes place at the break of dawn– annoying, but apparently the proctor is a favoured of the sun god and only allowed it to be scheduled for this time as a sort of weird flex to the other gods. Which, to be fair, weird flexes are sort of the sun god’s thing– which I hold myself back from writing on the test.
The test in question is blank– another thing in fitting with the sun god. Rather than having preselected questions it’s just to list all the gods, detail their areas of influence, associated rituals and their contracts. It doesn’t even have a time limit. Well, I suppose it has one since the proctor states they’ll retire at sunset for religious reasons, but besides that you just have to show up at the start and then keep going until you can’t think of anything else.
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I think I do well, if success is measured by how long I take. There are forty others who take the test with me, but only three are still going by the time I’m done about two hours later. I also noticed that the proctor started saying ‘well done’ to everyone who finished after the first hour, which makes me feel very confident about my chances.
The history test is in the area, so I have that one scheduled next. The questions are displayed like in the math test, but they’re scored less complexly. Several short answer questions that are worth 5, 10 or 20 points each plus a choice of essay prompts that are worth an indeterminate amount. Everyone is required to write one, and only one essay.
As Alan predicted there’s an essay prompt about the Caethlian insurgency, though I’m tempted to choose the one about Hyclion instead as that has been my interest recently. However, I decide that Alan is right and it’s better to go with the prompt where my perspective is unique rather than just reflecting what I learned from the same sources as anyone else.
The test is three hours like the math one. I spend about the first half of it doing the essay, and then the rest of my time going through the short answer questions I know going backwards starting with the highest point ones.
I feel confident when the three hours are up, but tired both from the protracted position sitting on a desk a bit too big for me and having to get up so early for the theology test. Fortunately, the next tests are scheduled after lunch, giving me several hours to relax before meeting Alan at the reserved restaurant.
There’s a park nearby in which I find a tree to climb and fall asleep on. It’s about an hour later when I’m woken by a noisy queue of exam takers crowding a desk with several exam staff sitting behind it.
I go up and see a sign with the words ‘first day test results.’ There's a separate line for people with nexus disks to quickly go up and tap it against a staff’s to instantly transfer the information. I do so and then walk off to see how I did in private.
‘Sword tournament: 75 points. [default -100, 1win, 50, 1 qualified loss 10, first opponent 70, second opponent 0, third opponent 45.’
I guess Bryant did get eliminated from a draw after all. It’s impossible to know if I would have gotten more points if I didn’t push for the qualified loss, but I feel his reaction was worth it even if I would have… Though maybe not if this means he’ll seek me out more.
I’ll also have to congratulate Bart if I ever see him again. My understanding is that even squires would start dropping in droves after 6 wins, so he probably beat more of them after I left. I’m certain the academy will be very interested in a mundane who can repeatedly beat squires. He might have an even better chance of getting in than me, provided he’s not completely ignorant of academic subjects.
I also look up Preston’s results and see he had 9 wins, which is about as impressive for a page as seven wins is for a mundane. I write a message congratulating him with the piece he gave me. Hopefully it’ll reach him before the exam ends.
My other results are pretty good. Math is a slightly unexpected 226, which is only odd because I must have made a mistake on one of the questions, but I didn’t try to answer question 26 (which is the discrepancy between my expected and actual result). I must have missed number 27 and gotten a bonus point, which is a bit odd since I thought all of my answers were done in the usual way.
I was hoping to get over 300 going in for the certificate, but I already knew that wasn’t happening by the end. At least I didn’t somehow make a slew of tiny errors that got me disqualified.
Navigation and astronomy likewise are about as good as I expected, netting me 43 and 144 points respectively. It’s not much, but it should be enough to show I have a wide range of knowledge.
“Congratulations on the fruit of your labour,” Alan says formally with a toast at lunch then cracks a smile. “You worked hard.”
“…Thanks.” I receive the toast, imbibing a non-alcoholic version of his drink. “Though it’s early to say the fruit is in hand. The scores are good, but nothing fantastic.”
“Don’t be so modest. A hundred points is considered very good. Remember, 300 is what they consider a professional level of knowledge for an adult, and you nearly got that on one test and half that on another. Besides, that’s only your first day and you already have five hundred points with your best subjects yet to come.”
“And my worst subject.” I counter.
He grimaces. “You’re doing a very good job of warding off irony fed by hubris. But it can still get you if you focus too much on it and can’t relax.”
“I relaxed. I took a nap in a tree on the way here.”
“Good,” he smiles, “keep that up. Take breaks when you can.”
“I’ve never been bad at resting.”
He scoffs. “I don’t qualify falling asleep while studying as rest.”
“…I made some friends,” I say, not wanting to argue.
He has one of his rare non-irritating deep smiles. “You did!? Already? That’s great! Tell me about them.”
“Um… a noble page who I ended up signing in with. He got 9 wins in the sword tournament, though one of them was because I reported another noble for making excessive threats because she annoyed me.” His face twists from a bright to worried expression so I quickly move on. “The other is the mercenary I lost to in round one. He did very well for a mundane… He’s suspicious of my apparent combat experience and I think he might try to blackmail me… Actually, I don’t know if he thinks of me as a friend. He was just there when I formally made friends with the other one and might have just gotten swept into the conversation.”
He rubs his eyes briefly before sighing. “Well, I suppose it would be too much to expect you to go about it in the normal way.” He half mutters before perking up. “Still, I’m glad you’re making connections.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, though I am glad that he’s glad. So, we change subjects and finish eating before I rush out for my magical theory and language tests.
The theory is structured like the history one, but the language is much more fun. We’re rotated through magic items and have to figure out what they do based on the symbols inscribed on them.
Some of the items are basic, but others have extremely convoluted sentence structures that surpass the ones even on my berry staff. There’s a staff that does something weird with fire. A sundial that alters time somehow, but seems useless as from what I can tell human cognition and perception should also be altered to match and so would seem like nothing happens?
It would make things easier if we could experiment with them, but that’s obviously not allowed given that the test is about the language rather than getting lucky playing around with potentially dangerous items.
I exit the tests feeling drained. I admit, I was much more confident going into it than coming out. I should have studied more enchanting symbols, but I thought what I picked up in passing would be enough.
Likewise, the theory test had some really hard questions, though I have a better sense of how I did with it as the questions had points next to them. I wasn’t able to answer nearly as many as I would have liked, but I know I at least should get positive points unlike with the language test.
The day is over after that, so I go home, take a bath and collapse in the bed.
There are three tests the next day: herbalism, anatomy and medicine, all in the same area.
The herbalism is simple. There are rows of tables with numbered plants, and we go along and identify them and their uses. I do rather well.
Anatomy is split in two parts. The first has us rotate around detailed diagrams answering questions and labelling parts, while the second involves dissecting a corpse under supervision and marking any abnormalities. I think I do well, but others seem to do much better, especially in the dissection. I’m proficient with most of the tools, and my coordination helps with the ones I’m not, but I’m more used to looking for marks related to anthropomancy rather than maladies to treat.
Though I learn after that the ones who seemed to do better have been studying as doctor apprentices for the past five years and are all very impressed when they find out I haven’t been.
Medicine is even more hands on and is a combination of the two in a way. It involves older students coming in with simulated maladies and having us diagnose and treat them. I am experienced in treating injuries, even severe ones in the cell, but I admit I’m out of my depth when the problem isn’t an obvious sword wound. Fortunately, I’m able to come up with treatments easily with my herbalism knowledge, but I struggle with the diagnosis part except when it’s very obvious like illusionary blood gushing out of them.
I do get a note of praise from the proctor though when I point out that the illusionary plants ‘growing’ along the wall for us to use aren’t at the right stage of maturity to effectively use for one malady and ask if I can use my plant grower spell. They say it’s a clever approach and to go ahead. I also use my wound closure spell, but unfortunately it’s only useful a few times as it can only treat external wounds.
The next day is the dreaded law test which I have been continuing to study for throughout the exam. I do badly, worse than expected maybe. There are several times in which I get confused between the legal systems and don’t answer a question out of fear of referencing the wrong one and being found out.
I’m not panicking… I’m… panicking. Calm the breathing, use the coordination boons to force it down. We focused on trade laws and noble duties to sell the cover. Just focus on those and it should be enough.
When I get out I regret the order in which I scheduled the tests. I wanted to give myself as much time as possible to study, but Alan and I will be headed to his rural estate now to be closer to the exterior campus where the next tests will be held. Meaning I may not learn the results of my most important test for several days.
I do take the time to look up my current results and see I’ve done better than I expected in several areas: Applied theology 358, history 234, magic theory 132, magic language 142, herbalism 328, anatomy 227 and medicine 87. Especially surprising is magic language since I was thinking I might have actually failed it, but apparently everyone else found the lines of symbols just as hard to decipher as I did.
It may all be moot with the test I just took, but looking at the results I feel good in the same way as I did when I got paid from the pirates, and to a lesser extent when I recklessly spend money. It’s a measure of my capacity to impact the world. The two certificates I’ve earned especially give me a similar thrill.
I wonder what Alan would say if I mentioned the comparison. I suspect that he wouldn’t approve in one sense but would think it’s at least better than my money habit. Well, not that I’ll be mentioning it, he gets so strangely serious when it comes to my money.
I have no idea why he gets like that. He obviously isn’t intending to do something as obvious as steal it, as he could have just killed me to take it, and he got some of it funnelled to him through the shop anyways. So, I really have no idea why he’s so uptight about it.
I suppose I have too much time to be thinking about that now that the academic tests are over. The rest of the day is transport, and tomorrow is archery and the magic demonstrations. Really, it’s almost too much free time now.