I wince as a branch cuts my face, but ignore the pain, panting desperately for air to fuel my sprint through the woods. My posture is awkward and slowing me down as I keep the silver rod extended in front of me. Suddenly the rod goes from seeming red hot to ice cold and I stop in my tracks realizing I’ve passed my target.

I frantically look around, narrowing it down using the rod segments. There…Stupid squire bias. Why do they keep on putting them up in trees?

I use my magic boots and cloak to leap up as far as I can, then climb the rest of the way until I reach the silver disk which vanishes upon touching with a ring of a small bell.

I give myself a few seconds to catch my breath after jumping back down– relying on the cloak to keep me safe– before chanting on the silver rod and looking for the next target. It takes about ten seconds to find, and I waste no time in running after it.

I stop when the rod suddenly goes cold. Odd. I shouldn’t have passed it yet.

A distant thump causes me to instinctively creep up to find the source. Hiding from behind a tree I spy a squire chanting a divination as her very long braid of hair suddenly flaps seemingly in a wind not present, in a direction she immediately runs towards.

Shit. She must have gotten to my target first. How annoying. I was assuming the other competitors hadn’t made it this far yet and so I didn’t need to waste time in accounting for them, but I was clearly mistaken.

Not dwelling on my mistakes, I chant my divination again. The rod flashes hot in her direction until I chant some more to add a criterion to account for the disk still being there when I arrive.

The rod vibrates as it struggles against so many competing diviners, and I tighten my grip to keep from dropping it. Eventually it finds equilibrium and flashes hot in a direction about twenty degrees away from the squire.

I find the target after a dash – thankfully on the ground for once – and begin chanting but am interrupted by the whistle indicating the round’s end. So, I alter the chant to set the target to the starting area and make my way back at a much slower pace.

When I get back the 64 youths in my group are divided into two groups: those standing casually, and those collapsed on the ground – or rather between squires and mages. I’m in between them; I don’t feel the need to collapse, but I did work up a sweat. Fortunately, I’m wearing self-cleaning clothes.

As the last of the competitors enter the starting area the entire group begins to glow in different colours. Most, those who passed, glow green, about a quarter, those eliminated, glow red, and a few like me glow unique colours. I get glares from the reds as they move away from the arena, as does the squire who took my target and is presently glowing in a golden hue.

There were 64 targets to match the 64 contestants. Each one needed to find one disk to move on to the next round. If everyone only took what they needed to pass, then everyone would have. However, each disk is worth 25 points and there will be fewer in the next round. So not only are we incentivised by greed to get as many disks as possible, but fear as well. As letting more competitors stay would have reduced the chances of passing the second time.

…That thin man with the glasses in the sword tournament: what was his name? I could look it up with the nexus disk, but I know I won’t. He viewed being eliminated then as being eliminated from the whole exam. He was likely right.

How many of the reds were counting on this test being a positive score in their estimated chances of success? From their glares I would guess all of them. Sure, they’ll only lose a hundred points for being eliminated in the first round, but that’s a hundred points in a test that was scheduled for half a day they could have done other tests in, and if they failed here, they probably need the points. I found five disks, so four more people whose hopes of a better life have been personally dashed by me.

I don’t even feel satisfied.

In theory the academy doesn’t have a set number of students it accepts but takes everyone that meets its rigorous standards. So, in a sense my success here might cause some minor harm to the empire in the future by reducing the number of people that would otherwise be talented enough to receive the prestigious education.

In practice though, everyone knows the academy receives a stipend from the crown per student. Though, as Alan explained it, the size of that stipend depends on the quality of the graduates, so there are competing pressures to accept more and less students. Meaning, their not getting in likely will allow others to.

So really there’s little harm done. If anything, the opposite. They’re clearly mediocre, so if I had allowed them to progress, and they somehow made it because of that, then they would be taking up the not slots of those likely more talented than them.

But it’s useless to think about the best way to potentially maybe slightly hurt the empire in the distant future if it comes at the expense of my primary goal. I will continue to get as many disks as possible and eliminate as much of my competition as I can.

“You did pretty well, little mage. Second place.”

I snap out my thoughts to see the golden glow surrounding the squire who snatched my target.

“Yeah, thanks, you too.” I’m a bit embarrassed, slightly out of fear she saw me watching her since I had no real reason to hide and just did it out of habit.

“Yes. How many did you get?” she says.

“Five.”

“Pity, just one less than me then.”

“How many did third get?” I ask, looking at the squire glowing white.

“Three,” she pauses to consider him. “We were both surprised a mage did better than him. But your luck ends here, I think. Your stamina is wasted. This is a squire's contest. You’re clearly enhanced, but you’ll run yourself into the ground trying to keep up.”

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I grit my teeth in frustration at being beaten by a squire in a contest of divination. If I was just a little bit faster, I would have been first, and she second. It’s galling, but I school my face.

“Oh, you’re so cute! Trying to cool your little mage face, with the little control whatever god you bothered deigned to give you. So funny. I see through you little mage.” She laughs, and I feel myself losing complete control of my expression.

“We’ll see who lasts. You may be faster and more resilient, but this is still a divination contest.”

“Only in the barest sense. You just need something to point you along, any more than that is wasted.”

Yes, a contest devised out of pity for the squires’ lesser abilities.

Gritting my teeth I force myself to adhere to Alan’s lessons. “Forgive me, manners. My name in Malichi Monhal. To whom am I making an acquaintance?”

“Pleasure,” she says, pointedly letting me know she noticed my omission. “My name is Clara Talwin.”

“Talwin… Are you from one of the northern allies then?”

“Yes. A little place, not worth mentioning. I came here to get away from a succession dispute –specifically for the automatic granting of citizenship to those admitted to the central academy. In many ways a citizen of Artkothia is better off than a noble of my homeland, especially an academy graduate.”

“I see.” Someone who has forsaken their homeland to lick Arkothan boots.

“Why is your face so full of disgust?”

“…I don’t know what you mean. There must be confusion from our enhancements conflicting.”

“Certes.”

The ready whistle blows and everyone gets into position to run back into the woods.

Anger flashes at her arrogance. “I will beat you.” I mutter to myself as she walks away.

Naturally she hears and turns to smile. “Welcome to try! You’ll be even cuter on the ground, gasping for air, little mage.”

I blush and shiver, then the whistle blows.

The rules state that no physical interference may be performed, so I have to stick with divinations. Despite the ‘little mage’ talk, she’s not that much bigger than me, meaning she should be much faster due to a squire’s strength. A prediction quickly confirmed through observation as she rushes ahead of me into the woods. So, I can’t just divine the target she’s going for and snatch it first. I use a more roundabout method.

The thing about squires, and indeed knights, is that they’re poor diviners. Theoretically they’re no worse than a mage, but they’re limited to mediums tied to their sense of self – i.e. parts of their body. So, besides auto-anthropomancy, which is outlawed, messy and painfully debilitating, what does that leave them? Blood and other fluids, hair, and nail clippings. The latter is surprisingly effective, but not practical on the move. Blood is also pretty good, but has a lopsided potency – good at offence, poor at defence. Some knights will actually cut off their own fingers or other parts and use that, which is very potent, but no squire should have the regeneration to pull that off.

This leaves the hair I saw her use, which is a very flimsy medium, one of the least potent I know of, even less than the crystal pendulum. So, I’m able to entail two of her divinations in one of mine. Accounting not just for her current divination, but the one she’ll make after that, and rush towards that target.

I find the disk quickly (in a tree, naturally) and then target the next one she’ll divine. Rinse and repeat, running haggard through the woods. By the time the end whistle shrills I’ve gotten five again, and I’m certain she’s only gotten one.

This time I join my fellow mages collapsed on the ground. A few seconds later her scowling face appears over mine.

“You’re interfering, aren’t you little mage?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m certainly not doing anything against the rules.”

Her scowl deepens. “It doesn’t matter. I’m the fastest runner here. You can’t stop me from getting the first disk. The best you can hope is keep me at one until the last round when there’s only one disk. Then it’ll just be a race, which I will win…But,” she sighs, “I’ll lose hundreds of points in the meantime. So fine, I swallow my pride. Your point is proved. I ask for a truce.”

I glare at her briefly, school my face, then decide not to bother since she’ll see through it anyways. “Typically, truces are negotiated between parties that have equal things to offer.”

“I offer my apology for belittling you. Beyond that all I can say is you’ll tire more keeping ahead of me.”

Sigh… She’s probably right. What’s the point of a grudge over something so slight, she’s not even an imperial. Sure, she’s abandoning her homeland to become an imperial, but I shouldn’t judge without the facts. Her home is probably shit, and besides it sounds like it abandoned her first. To be honest, I’m always a bit surprised I’m as fond of Caethlon as I am. Besides, it’s probably better to have a foreigner get in as her loyalty might be less certain.

…Only now do I realize I was scratching when I made the decision to interfere. It was satisfying to best her, but it was a poor substitute for what I really wanted.

“Fine, truce. I won’t interfere with your targets again. But you’ll need to do something to balance the deal.”

“What?” she says sceptically.

“Nothing much, just help me up when the ready whistle blows.”

“Assisting other contestants is against the rules.”

“Others do it, and besides, I’m certain it falls under sporting behaviour.”

“Fine, agreed. I apologize for my earlier words.”

“I accept. I was probably overreacting. Sorry about blocking your points.”

“No worries. I goaded you.”

The ready whistle shrills, and she offers her hand as promised.

I get eliminated in the second to last round, when there’s only four contestants left, and two targets. I tried to be clever and divine the farthest disk, but someone else had the same idea and beat me to it. Particularly galling is that Clara was right – I lost because of my stamina. I’m certain I was faster than the one who beat me when the contest started, but I could barely jog by the end.”

“Too bad little mage, but you did very well keeping up for so long.” Clara says over me once again, but this time with a smile.

“Yeah… Do you think you’ll win the whole thing? The match with all the group winners I mean.”

She shakes her head. “No, but maybe second. There’s a boy who’s already a knight that I know I can’t beat in another group.”

“A knight? Already? I hadn’t heard.”

“Yes, I met him on the way to the capital. He already won the two sword tournaments. It’s likely he’ll get in before the interview.”

“Assuming he doesn't do something stupid like fail the law test.”

“He’s not Arkothan, so he should have some exemption like I do.”

“Of course he does. Well, good luck anyways. Will you be doing the fugitive test tomorrow?"

“No. I decided my method wasn’t strong enough for it.”

“Pity. My understanding was this one was meant as a practice run to learn the terrain for it.”

She shakes her head. “That’s half true. It was scheduled this way for that reason, but this test is much older than it. It has only been added in the past two years. Same with the breakthrough group test. In fact, they added a whole day to the exam to fit them in.”

“I see…I’ll just be laying here until I recover, I guess.”

“Do you mind if I watch until the whistle? Your expression just now was cute as you tried to hide some thought deep inside.”

“…Yes, I think I do mind actually.”

She laughs and walks off, causing my face to go redder.

Alone, I cast the animal communication spell, reaching out to one of the birds I’ve placed a silver tag on. I quickly find the one I instructed to stay near Alan and tell it to land on him as the prearranged signal that I’m done. The bird tells me he’s with someone, but I tell it to land anyways, knowing it’s probably a lover he picked up while I was testing.

I rest a little more, then go to where the carriage is waiting. Alan still hasn’t shown, so I wait with the driver, forced to think about what I just learned. I thought I should be particularly good at this next test, but I didn’t realize until she spelled it out that’s because it was designed with Caethlon in mind. When my homeland rebels again, the empire will be much more prepared to deal with it.