The final tests are underground. We go back to the city campus and descend in magically moving metal boxes twenty-two at a time. I can’t tell how fast we go, but it seems like several minutes before we reach the bottom. ‘Seems’ because I’m aware of my perception of time being distorted while in a crowd in a confined space. I would believe anything from half a minute to five.
Exiting the cube, we are led through a short series of stone halls lined with sealed rooms until we reach the central chamber. Gasps, whistles and expletives emit from the group as we emerge. It’s breathtakingly large. A smooth straight cubish gap in solid stone at least a mile across with the ceiling hundreds of feet high. Like the halls, the chamber is filled dimly with the steady light of a magical source. It’s like twilight, but without shadows as the light is coming from all around.
More impressive than just the size of the cavity are the symbols etched throughout the entirety of the walls and ceilings and much of the floor. There must be millions. How many mages were contracted to inscribe them? Hundreds? Thousands? How long did they take? I can only guess at what the enchantments must do. Structural integrity obviously – since there is no way to have an underground space this big without magic – lighting, airflow, cleaning and probably some sort of image transfer and recording system since our performances will be monitored. But, unless the mages were incredibly inefficient, that should only account for a few percent of the inscribed surface area.
“What do they even use this place for? When they’re not testing the desperate?” One of the group mutters out loud.
“You must have come from outside the capital. Everyone who lives here already knows about it.”
“Then enlighten this ignorant rural.” The first speaker says with obvious irony.
The second speaker, who I turn to see is a lanky youth in figure concealing loose clothes popular with mages who wish to proclaim that as their identity, inclines. “The public use is emergency shelter and food storage. The caverns were made hundreds of years ago when the empire was less secure. There are dozens of spiral staircases throughout the city that every child is told to go to when a certain sound is heard. Everyone who grew up here, peasant or noble, is brought here twice, once at five with a caretaker, and another at ten on their own.”
“This doesn’t seem that efficient of shelter to me.” The inquirer, a boy in chainmail with magic weapons strapped in various places says, looking up to indicate the high inaccessible ceiling. “How many can even fit down here?”
“More than you’d think.” The mage says, stooping down to trace their finger on the ground and displaying it to show a dark grey smudge that quickly disappears in a glittering stream of particles flowing through the air back to the ground. “There is great magic inert here. When activated it can shape that dust into solid objects, erecting tall buildings or aiding the defence.”
“Yeah, but why go through that much trouble? Why not just put regular buildings in for a fraction of the cost?”
“Well…” the mage smiles mischievously, “there are rumours about that. The official story is that the imperial army uses this place as a training ground, and it’s useful to vary the terrain. But that always seemed excessive to me, and others too. So various theories abound. My favourite, though not the one I deem most likely, is that the empress uses this space to work great magic, and the variable structure aids in that.”
“What sort of magic?” Another of the group asks.
“Well… some say that not all the rooms we passed store food but are prison cells for entities she summons and captures for some future great war. They say that every year some exam taker gets lost, thinking they hear a voice calling their name, telling them to open a door, and are never heard from again.”
“You’re talking about demons?” A boy, in tradesperson garb, nearly stutters besides them. “Those aren’t real though, are they?”
The mage makes a ‘who knows?’ shrug, which the boy does not find reassuring. A few seconds later he jumps with a slight shout as a muscular girl leans in and whispers in his ear while he’s preoccupied by his fears. This gets a laugh from his tormentor and a sigh from me. I hope they’re not on my team.
“Come now, if demons were real, more people would have found a way to use them by now than just our empress.” The brash whispering youth says confidently.
“It depends on what you mean by demons, but something that could match that description definitely exists.” I find myself interjecting to a crowd suddenly giving me all their attention.
“You’re talking about the things gods sometimes send as part of a curse to punish oath breakers? Especially dark gods such as Vanocaur?” The mage reasonably deduces.
“It’s odd to hear you call Vanocaur dark, though yes,” I say.
“But those are godly servants who are only ever sent in for breaking big contracts. Surely, they wouldn’t just be waiting about where you could run into them, would they?” the fearful boy says.
I nod in acknowledgement. “Maybe, except we don’t know much about them. Where they come from or if they exist when they’re not on missions. Presumably though if gods have access to them then there must be something from which they have access to them from. So perhaps there are more of those things than we realize. Besides, the empress is a demigod. Perhaps she has access to these entities and can use them more freely than most gods since her domain is worldly.”
The mage sighs. “Yeah, maybe. But it’s just a story. If the empress could do that, she would tell people about it or use it, not stockpile them in secret. The ability would probably be a better diplomatic asset than tactical, but only if people know about it. Besides, it would have been used in Caethlon.”
“All right everyone, quiet and listen up!” Our escort shouts before I can think about their point. We’ve come to a series of tables with soft clay looking symbolled rods and faintly green glowing disks the size of both palms. “These are the items that will keep you safe during the tests here. They are tied to the magics of this chamber and do not work anywhere else. These rods will imitate the properties of paired items.” They bring one and a dagger together, and the rod shortens and morphs into the dagger – though the precise form seems to be illusionary rather than fully physical. “They have highly variable mass, reducing it to near nothing on impact and collapsing.”
They drive the illusionary blade into their palm with a grimace. Two things happen when they do: first the ‘blade’ collapses into a uniform disk that breaks the illusion in a flicker before it reforms. Second, a red circle appears hovering on both sides of his hand.
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“As you see, it mimics the pain.” They grimace as they display the ‘wounded’ hand. “The pain will stop at the end of a match, or upon death.” They reverse the grip on the ‘dagger’ and plunge it into their throat. A much darker red circle appears at the wound, which darkens further over the course of seconds until it goes completely black. As it does the hand wound likewise blackens. While they ‘die’ they make the most painfully disgusting gurgling sound – presumably as an incentive not to die.
It’s strange, this imitation death gurgle affects me more than the real thing. A familiar, even comforting, sound altered and made wrong.
“What about spells? I thought we could use them?” the mischievous mage asks.
“That’s where these disks come in. They attach to your clothes and create a personal shield effect. Like with the rods, they create an illusion of pain as if they weren’t there. They aren’t extremely powerful though, and so some of you may be informed that one or more of your spells are off limits for safety. If one of your spells is forbidden, you will be compensated points for going in with limited ability. You may also request compensation for other spells you’ve demonstrated that are unusually unsuited for simulated combat. Now then, any questions about the equipment?”
There are a few easily answered questions then we line up to exchange our real weapons for fakes – our expensive gear being placed in magically sealed boxes and given a numbered key to receive them with our name being recorded in association.
“You get two bladed weapons. The rods are limited, leave some for others.” The annoyed staff says as I start placing my daggers on the table.
“What about ammo?”
“Those rods are simpler and more plentiful. You may have up to 30.”
“And the rods simulate all the magic properties of the weapon?”
“Yes.”
“What about poison retention? Does it simulate the poison placed on it?”
“No, since that’s not the weapon, and is too complex besides.”
“Fine, I’ll go with these then.” I say indicating my sword and iron phasing dagger, the basic magic and the iron phasing and lightning bolts for both crossbows and filling the rest of the ammo with various magic bullets.
“No exploding ammo please. It’s too complex.” They say examining the symbols on all the items before recording and exchanging them, causing me to replace those bullets with more basic ones.
“Fine. I also have a spell that won’t work here but would be useful in real combat.”
“What’s the spell and how would you normally use it?”
“Animal communication. I would use it to survey the battlefield with a precontracted bird.”
“And why couldn’t you have just brought the bird with you?”
“In a normal fight it would be unremarked and safe, but here it would be obviously on a side and targeted.”
“But it would still be useful, no? We have smaller disks to keep animals safe.”
“Maybe, but it would still experience pain. Which, besides likely costing me the contract with the bird, I’m also contracted with the bird’s god, and it wouldn’t take kindly to the casual trauma.”
They sigh. “All right, fine. You’ve convinced me. I’ll recommend you be given a hundred points for the limitation. Any other spells?” they say, still with slight annoyance as they glance behind me in reminder that others are waiting.
“Um, I would normally use plant growth to create poisons to apply to my weapons.”
“And how quickly would it take you to grow these poisons?”
“…15 minutes.” I go with the least viable time, despite the potency being weaker.
“Too long. It wouldn’t be tactically different than just carrying the poison with you, and we don’t compensate for gear limitations.” They gesture to my unused daggers. “Anything else?”
“No, I guess that’s all.” I hand them my unused weapons to store, except the wrist daggers since I don’t like going unarmed, and carrying isn’t prohibited, just use.
Once everyone is outfitted, we are split into two groups. Or rather the groups were already formed above ground, and we are just now learning who is in which. The mischievous mage, the out-of-town boy, and the frightful boy are all in mine. The brash fighter who teased the boy is not. There are eleven of us total, two mages, two squires, seven others.
“All right, introductions. What can everyone do?” the mischievous mage asks as we are placed in our waiting area. “I’ll start. I’m Adrian Blakerhal. I’m a mage that specializes in illusion magic. My only offensive spell turns an object invisible and telekinetically shoots it at about the power of an arrow. I also have a personal shield.” They look at me as the other mage.
“Malichi Monhal. Spells of note are personal shield, a short ranged area fire spell, and projectile guidance.”
“Oh great, neither of our mages have normal ranged area spells. What a great team. We’re definitely going far.” One of the squires complains.
I ignore him. “My main weapon is this crossbow, though I’ll need someone else to help reload it quickly, preferably a squire.”
“Well not me.” The complainer complains. “I’m a front-line fighter, not a babysitter for a half-sized mage who thinks they’re an archer.”
“Fair enough,” I say, noting their magic full plate and impressive looking magic sword and shield. They’re likely right that they’ll be more useful away from me. “And what can you do?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a squire. My name is Riley Plimhal, a count’s son.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I say, causing Adrian to roll their eyes for some reason.
“Well, I’ll be happy to assist you, Malichi, if you need my strength.” The other squire speaks. “I am Ser Terrance Presley, though you may call me Terry.”
“…You’re a knight?” Riley asks, incredulous.
“Technically. I don’t think I really deserve the title, but they gave it to me anyway after I beat one.”
“Didn’t you win the sword tournaments? Unless there’s another 14-year-old foreign knight I haven’t heard of,” I say.
“You’ve heard of me?”
“So, it seems. A Clara Talwin mentioned you.”
“Oh Clara! How is she doing?” he asks, with a bright smile.
“Well, though I expected you to have seen her more recently. She won my scavenger hunt group. Did you not see her in the finals?”
“Oh, that. I… unfortunately had to forfeit that game early due to some sudden, um, family issues.”
“You have family with you? I was under the impression you were a wandering knight.”
“In a sense.”
“In a sense you have family or in a sense you’re a wandering knight?” Adrian asks.
“Yes.” He does not elaborate further.
“Whatever.” I say, losing interest. “You’re obviously skilled, especially if you won the magic sword tournament with that armour. I don’t strictly need someone to reload, it’s just faster, and I have a backup anyways. You should be in the front; I’ll get one of the others to help.” I say, looking at a particularly large commoner.
“Um, Billy, baker, I use a war hammer that I borrowed from my pa,” he says, mistaking my look for an invitation to introduction.
“Not today. Today you load crossbows.” I say, causing him to glum.
“Won’t that lower my score?” he asks. “I was hoping to show them the training my pa gave me. He was in the army, you know.”
“Trust me, you’ll get more points helping me reload. Besides, eventually the opponent will break through, and you’ll have a chance to show them your training. Well, unless we are unreasonably successful, but you’ll have little cause to complain then points wise.”
“Oh, all right,” Billy says, shyly.
We go through the rest in short order. There are two pages who have magic swords and lighter armour. The rest are fully mundane. There’s the frightful boy whose name I forget who has a magic crossbow, though borrowed from the academy and much less potent than even my light one. He looks at my second weapon enviously, obviously wanting to ask if he can use it, since I do have two, but I move the discussion along before he can muster the courage to speak. Lastly, we have a trio of spear wielders.
“Well, I think it’s a good team, well balanced.” Ser Terrance says with a hopeful smile.
“Yeah…” I say, glancing at Riley who obviously disagrees, but doesn’t say anything.
We spend the rest of the time before the first test refining strategies and understandings of abilities. Then we’re ushered out to a small subsection of the central chamber surrounded by buildings constructed by the grey dust and arranged as if on a random street above us. In the centre of the ‘street’ an adult knight in a magic full plate awaits us.