The rest of the hidden object games before lunch aren’t as interesting. My second opponent has a weaker divination method involving burning paper and examining the ashes, and so I home in quickly each time. It’s a bit annoying since he realizes his disadvantage and so uses delaying tactics– selecting the most complicated occulters or always choosing the maximum number to give himself more chances to guess my object by blind chance. The tactic works, once, giving the final score of 5-1.

The opposite happens in the third game against a girl who uses an overly complicated interlocking wheels contraption to overwhelm me. My only advantage is that it’s too big to conceal, letting me realize it lacks physical precision, so being fiddly with my occulter placement can confuse it. Well, not it, but the operator. Still, I only manage 2-5.

I feel drained after my first loss. Like I shouldn’t have even bothered after I knew how badly outmatched I was. Sure, the loser gets five points per round won, up to 15 points, but that’s hardly anything. I’ve already gotten positive points for this test from my two wins, and if I lose the next game, it’s not like the ten points will make that much of a difference, and the fatigue might cost me more in the long term– especially due to how tedious her overly complicated contraption was to wait on.

“You can’t think like that,” Alan says at lunch (which we have as a picnic) after I explain why I look so tired. “You can’t know you won’t win until you try.”

I give him an exasperated look. “Trust me Alan, I’m a bit of an expert on losing battles– when they’re worth fighting anyways, and when it’s better not to bother.”

His face pinches and leans in to whisper with a serious tone. “You can’t view everything through those experiences Malch.”

“…It’s kinda hard not to.”

A few tense moments pass before he forces a cheerful smile. I can tell it’s forced by the slightest strain of a jaw muscle. I know he can do a better job of hiding it, but he’s gotten sloppy from interacting with too many people with ordinary perception – too many easy lovers.

He notices I notice and relaxes the muscle.

“Well, I’m certain your next opponents won’t be as tedious. I bet the device was custom designed. Very impressive if they did it themselves. There can’t be too many who can do that, especially your age, and you still managed to win a few rounds, so I’m sure you’ll have an easier time now that you’re in the lower bracket.”

“Yeah…” I say, not feeling it.

Though admittedly he’s right. My fourth opponent is easily bulled over. My fifth is a little better, but still worse than Erika, allowing me to pull off a win despite going second without even pulling ‘a mean trick’ to do it.

My sixth match is another grueling one, as it was a bad match for the trick, but I manage to pull ahead and win 7-5.

“I didn’t expect to make it this far.” I say in a daze to Alan as we head home, the last match of the day having ended after sunset.

“What do you mean? You allotted time in the schedule for the second day.”

“Yeah, but I guess I wouldn’t have minded watching the finals regardless, and the only other major game takes a whole day anyways.”

“You’re enjoying it then?”

“…Yeah, I think so. I mean, I guess it’s fun to use my experiences for something so low stakes for once. I still feel the pressure to win, but my life and others don’t depend on getting it right.”

“Were you the only diviner in your cell?”

“Yeah. Gebal never learned. I kept on telling him to, since if I had died then the cell wouldn’t have lasted long, but he just focused on his physical abilities… It was like dashing himself against a wall, desperate to become a knight. He was probably comparing himself to his sister.”

“Sister?”

“Tanyth.”

“Oh, I didn’t know she had a brother.”

I shrug. “He wasn’t as famous, but he led the cell well. He kept us safe… except when he didn’t.”

“You don’t talk about the cell much.”

I shrug. “It’s seldom safe.”

“Do you miss them?”

“…Not really… Gebal, sometimes. The others tended to die too quickly to really grow attached to. Except for the old fighters, but I never really cared for them. They always had their particular view on things, and derided those who didn’t see things their way. It would often affect morale, but they had enough clout that Gebal was limited in how he could reprimand them. There was one in particular that seemed resentful of Gebal being the leader and would try to undermine his authority.”

“How did they feel about you?”

“…They were gleeful.”

“About what?”

“The sacrifices. They would push Gebal to take risks to get more for me, almost as much as I did. That always seemed odd to me. They seemed to gain some pleasure from me sacrificing the enemy, but I can’t imagine how, since I was the only one who benefited from it.”

“… I see.” His jaw muscle tenses slightly before he notices it.

The next day’s matches are in a different building, one with more room for spectators as my victories have put me into the top 30 diviners applying to the academy. The playing area actually smaller, though better lit as it is just a central floor, surrounded by raised seating with a roof propped up by columns. My understanding is that it’s used to conduct semi-public major divinations, and the columns are arranged to aid in a specific method.

“You’re that guy who came up with that annoying tactic, aren’t you?” My eighth opponent, a mid-height semi-muscular boy by the name of Denton Brinhal, points accusingly at me as I approach the table.”

“You'll have to be more specific.”

“You know, the trick where you only select two occulters, and the opponent assumes they’ve been countered when they haven’t. I’ve had three people try it against me in the past five rounds, and one of them, Erika Hanhal, said you came up with it against her.”

“Oh, that one. Yes, that was me.”

“I won’t fall for it, you know.”

“I’m tempted to try now, since I’ve only done it once. But it’s only effective in certain circumstances, so it’s odd that it’s becoming a default… How did Erika do?”

“Well. I got ahead in the fifth round, so she tried your trick out of desperation… It was distasteful. She was skilled, but once she played the trick it reduced the game to brute guesswork. No complex patterns, just ‘did they use something that can counter me, or not.’ It defeats the point of the game.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

I shrug. “I don’t see it that way. For it to work you have to establish so many variables first. How strong is their divination? How will they guess in this situation? So many others. If you do it right, then little guessing is involved.”

“Yeah, maybe, but one of my matches tried it every single time they could.”

“Did they win?”

“Well, no.”

“Then my point stands. Once people get over the novelty, it’ll only be done sparingly.”

He shakes his head. “You underestimate the staying power of something that lets you win without thinking.”

“We’ll see.” The whistle blows and we get down to the game.

His divination method is only a little bit more powerful than mine, but it’s enough to overtake me. I lose 4-6. I considered using my ‘trick’, since the details seem ideal, but it would just annoy him unnecessarily, since he had so much practice against it.

“Good game.” He extends his hand which I shake, my grip less firm than his. “You’re quite skilled. It’s a shame you resorted to trickery in the past, but I see you got here by understanding the basics too.”

“Yes… well, I guess I regret it too. If only because I could have used it against you if you didn’t already expect it.”

His eyes narrow. “I don’t think I can understand you.”

“That’s a shame. Non-understandings should be saved for more serious subjects than a training game.”

He shakes his head. “The game might not be important, but our attitude towards it is. It reflects our attitude towards life.”

I sigh. “I think that’s enough. Beating me doesn’t allow you to lecture me.”

I quickly walk off to record my loss, quickly outpacing him with a divinely coordinated brisk walk. He only catches up when the recorder is ready to ask him to acknowledge his win, and then I’m off again before he can follow.

My chest and shoulders are tight, with my legs weak. It’s disappointing to be eliminated after coming so far. I didn’t realize until now that I was starting to hope I’d go all the way to the finals. I find Alan sitting with the audience and receive a reassuring smile.

“Too bad you’re out. But hey, you did great. You’re what? Top twenty? Out of every 14-year-old in the empire? Don’t look so glum.” He gives me a comforting pat on the back.

Warmth flows from the contact and my chest and shoulder relaxes, though my legs still feel weak. “…Thanks.” I barely whisper, though I know he hears me.

It’s a slightly inaccurate comfort. I doubt more than half of the eligible mages could have made it to the exam. So really, it’s more like top 40 or 50.

“Oh, there you are! I was looking for you!” An oddly cheerful voice calls out from behind.

“I got a lecture because of you,” I say, turning to face an Erika who seems much more energetic than when I last saw her. “It was even more annoying than the one your brother gave me.”

“I’m certain whatever it was had more to do with you than me.” She sits beside me without waiting for an invitation as would be proper.

“Incorrect. It has precisely one thing more to do with you than me, since it was about something we apparently both did, but that you decided to inform on me about.”

“…Oh, your trick? Oh, that’s hilarious. Did you get matched up with that tall, short haired, oddly muscular for a mage serious guy?”

“If you’re talking about Denton Brinhal, then yes. Though I would only say he’s tall compared to us. He’s at least a head shorter than your brother.”

“Did you win?”

“No.”

“Even better!” She laughs with a toothy smile.

“…Aren’t you supposed to be consoling me or something?”

“Why should I? You beat me in an annoying way. So, you losing to the same person as me makes me feel better. Especially since he was annoying. He gave me a lecture too. Was yours also about respecting the integrity of the game?”

“Yeah. So uptight. He talked like a fucking knight.”

“Hey!” Alan shouts, indignant.

“Present company excluded Alan. Besides, I thought you forsook the knight’s path, and only care about art.”

“Well yes, but you can still be tactful,” Alan says with a put-on grump.

“Alan? Art? Alan Linhal!? You didn’t tell me you knew a celebrity!” Erika eagerly twists to get a better look at him. “I thought he looked familiarly handsome.”

I sigh. “Oh, right. Introductions, sorry. I’m pleased to introduce Alan Linhal, my cousin who's hosting my stay here. Alan, I’m pleased to introduce Erika Hanhal, the girl I beat in round one.”

“You don’t need to make it part of my identity.” She pouts briefly, then focuses on Alan. “My brother dragged me to see one of your duels. It was hilarious. You made a complete fool of the other knight. Erik was so mad when you won, lost him money, which made it even funnier.”

“I thought you said such things were brutish?” I say.

“Oh, they are,” she explains, “but his style turned the brutality into artistry.”

“Well, I’m always glad to meet one of my fans. You aren’t too disappointed that I’ve been away, I hope.” Alan smiles, sincerely without the need of his heightened control.

“Oh of course not. You elevated them with your presence, but it was obvious they were plotting to bring you down to their level. It’s good that you got out of that scene when you did, before something distasteful happened. I’m much more excited about your new art. There was one piece I saw in Madam Primhal’s parlour that I thought was particularly moving. Tacyn’s victory over Anar. I particularly liked the use of light and shadows to convey emotions. The tranquil silence of Tacyn’s light contrasted with the roiling darkness of Anar– despair mixed with longing. And the brushwork, so precise. Truly that is the proper use of a knight’s powers.”

“You never mentioned that painting.” I glance at Alan.

“Oh, are you interested? It’s just something I painted a few years back. I can get you an invitation to see it if you like.” He’s so oddly coy. I would have thought he’d be excited by the thought I was interested in his art, given his pushing me to look at every painting he owns. “But more importantly Malachi, is why you never mentioned you had a friend with such good taste.” He smiles at her in his annoyingly charming way.

“Ah, be careful Erika.” I raise my finger in mock warning. “This is how it starts. He pays you a complement with that irritating smile, and the next thing you know you’re in bed with him, and week later he’s grown bored with you, and you’re cast into ‘Anar’s darkness’, if you would, perpetually longing for the brief moments of light you once had. For you see, his light is not tranquil like Tacyn’s, but harsh and cruel like Vanocaur’s.”

“You shouldn’t jest about divine matters,” Erika chides. “Besides, your warning is unneeded. I’m well aware of his string of lovers. I have a friend who delights in keeping track of them in the gossip tracts. She’ll be so jealous I met you.” She directs the last comment to Alan.

“Well then you must forgive my cousin Malichi’s rudeness of not inviting both of you over yet. I do try to teach him better, but his provincialism is so hard to overcome.”

“I didn’t realize invitations were supposed to be prescient,” I say, grimacing.

“Why, you’re one of the best diviners of your year aren’t you? Divine the need.” He’s so irritating.

I sigh, heavily, before turning to Erika. “Erika, would you, and your obviously insane friend, care to visit us at Alan’s townhouse? We’d be delighted to have you…no wait, host you. After the exam, of course.”

“Why I’m certain my friend would love to visit, as would I. Thank you. I’ll send someone to inform you when she accepts. It should be before admittance is announced of course. It would be awkward if one of us didn’t get in while the others did, due to some social mishap or another.”

“Oh, is your friend particularly inept at such things?”

She smiles, giving me a pointed look. “Of course, you’re right: I should bring my brother to keep you company. I’m certain he’d love to talk to you about shooting things or whatever while we discuss culture.”

My teeth grate under Alan’s watchful gaze. “…I’d be delighted.”

“Excellent. I’ll go tell them the good news.” She gets up and excitedly walks away.

“…I didn’t realize you had so many teenage admirers.” I say after she’s gone.

“Why of course. Men and women of all ages find me irresistible. Don’t worry though, despite the rumours I’m not in the habit of bedding youths. But aren’t you surly today. I hope you weren’t so rude because you lost. I told you, you did very well and should be proud. I guess I’ll just have to devote more time to your etiquette lessons.”

I seethe, comically. “…Why did you never mention the painting?”

“Oh, you’re still on that?... I guess I thought it would be a bit heavy handed. After all, literalism wasn’t my goal when I painted it.”

“… Did you make Anar look hot?”

“What?! No, of course not. Don’t be so heretical.”

“You did, didn’t you?”

“…Maybe a little. It was during one of my edgier phases.”

“I don’t think I want to see it anymore.”

“Oh, good. To be honest, getting you the invitation would have been difficult. I’m not on speaking terms with Madam Primhal anymore after that incident with her son.”

“Yet she still displays your painting?”

“Well, there’s ‘not on speaking terms’, and then there’s ‘not on speaking terms.’” He speaks with such disturbing emphasis.

“Spare me the details, please.”

“Of course, I would never reveal the secrets of those in my confidence.”

I sigh, diverting my attention to the next round which has just come into view. It’s interesting at first to see the methods of the top contestants, but then… “You’re right, this is boring to watch. No wonder the seats are nearly empty. You can’t tell what’s going on even if you’re an expert. How did you manage to sit through my games?”

“Oh, I always have ways to entertain myself… Want to grab an early lunch?”

“… Yeah, I think I’d like that.”