“I have an announcement from administration, so everyone listen.” The proctor mage in her early twenties sighs wearily, clearly finding the task tedious. She said ‘everyone’, but for some reason she’s looking directly at me. “The announcement is: Please do not exploit the arbitrary circumstances of the test put in place for its smooth operation. Points will be deducted if it happens again.”

My shoulders tense as I realize she’s talking about me inducing friendly fire by emulating the light walls. Sigh, I guess that answers my question about getting points for those kills. Parts of me wants to complain – there was no rule against it, and I nearly died from the same ‘arbitrary circumstance’, but I would just be drawing more attention to myself for no benefit. In fact, it would be counterproductive. It’s not like I’ll be using it on defence, so really it works out better this way as it only restricts my competitors.

Still, it’s a bit irksome to be called out like that for something that wasn’t illicit when I did it. I guess since this is only the third year this test has been administered, they felt freer to change the rules midway. It’s understandable, but it’s still irritating.

“You shot me again,” Emily says, breaking me out of my thoughts. “I suppose I should be glad you heeded my advice on headshots, but frankly the heart was almost as bad. It felt like it was tearing itself to pieces with every beat as part of it was seemingly pinned in place by an illusionary bolt. I mean, who designs training magic like that? I suppose it would be too much to ask you to let me live for more than five seconds?”

“The first one was at least ten.” I counter without much thought.

“How generous.”

Something about her tone draws my focus, ending my senseless self-pity. “Where should I shoot then? The goal is quick kills that they can’t recover from. That limits my options.”

She’s completely unfazed by my slight outburst. “Um… throat?”

Sigh. “Yeah, throat is good, but not as good as the others. It’s smaller than the head and isn't near the centre like the heart. So, it’s more likely for the shot to be wasted. Besides, the death is longer, which gives them time to say, finish a spell or receive healing. Some squires might even be able to heal it passively.”

She shrugs. “Oh well, I tried. But you do as you think best. It is a bit disappointing since I won’t get nearly as many points from this test as I planned on. I was so looking forward to using my icicle sphere on offense, what with the multiple concealed targets in a limited space. But it looks like I won’t get to use it on attack with you shooting me before I can cast it.”

“I heard you were going to auto pass anyway.”

“Oh, and that makes it okay to single me out?” Her tone is part hostile, part teasing, but hard to tell how much of each.

“I targeted you because you seemed the most dangerous mage that I knew of on your side.”

Her expression instantly changes to a flattered smile. “How nice of you to say so. But I digress. The real reason I wanted to talk to you was to ask how it feels to have a rule added because of you. I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“…How do you know the new rule was because of me? You weren’t even in most of the fight.”

“Thanks for reminding me, but I was dead, not blind.” I don’t respond. “Oh, come on, that was clever. Oh well. Anyways, a squire nearby when you shot me said they saw me glow slightly before I died. So, I figured the random lights followed by explosions were your doing. Besides, everyone was talking about you while you were busy gathering your bolts. Didn’t you notice the hushed silence when you walked in the room?”

I did, but I assumed that was just because of how completely we won. I doubt many teams have completed this test having only lost two pages. In fact, most teams don’t have anyone make it through. Really, Adrian’s sneaking was probably responsible for more team points than me… well, maybe not more, but close.

“Yeah, I guess I did. What are they saying about me?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Some were impressed, more were resentful – especially the ones you shot in the head despite my warning. Anyways, my question. How are you feeling?”

“Oh, um, a bit proud, I guess? A bit nervous about the extra scrutiny.” More than a bit terrified that they might see fit to look even harder. “Does that help? How do you think you would feel?”

“Hm, oh, about the same probably.”

“But you said you always wanted to have a rule changed. Why?”

“Well, you know… I wonder… Well anyways. A pleasure. Your teammates seem to be politicking off the back of your success. I’d join them if I were you before they volunteer you for something tedious.” She gestures to Riley and Adrian surrounded by competitors who I assume are the leaders of the other teams.

“Pleasure.” I briefly nod before complying to her suggestion.

Sudden silence as I enter the conversation. Riley speaks first. “It looks like I was still underestimating you. By all accounts you did very well.”

“Thanks,” I say, not really feeling the compliment. “I heard you did pretty good too.”

He scoffs. “Ser Terrance did, you mean. I only killed one squire, not including pages and mundanes.”

“You stayed alive when many wouldn’t. That’s enough. I doubt Ser Terry would have fared half as well if you went down.”

“…Thanks.”

His expression is unreadable, no doubt focusing his enhanced coordination to become a stony mask. “Are you discussing the tactics for the next match”

“Arguing more like. I don’t suppose you’ll side with me?”

“If it’s about mundane placement then we both know that’s not happening. I thought they were very effective last match. One group even almost killed me.”

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“The mighty warrior, brought down by a common blade. How funny. Sigh. I guess it’s pointless to try convincing these lot about what’s honourable now that their scourge is here telling them they’re right.”

“Yeah…” I say, not sure what to say to his strange tone of prideful resignation.

“Excuse me,” one of the mages in the group says, “you’re the mage who… did all those things last match?”

I give a bemused glance. “…Probably. Unless Adrian was a lot more proactive than we planned.”

“I wasn’t.” Adrian says from behind. “As much as I’d love to take credit for the chaos as an illusionist, I’m afraid that was all him.” They nod with a friendly smile as they walk up beside me. “It seems your confidence was well placed. We were unreasonably successful thanks to you.”

I nod back. “And to you. A good chunk of the team’s points came from you getting the mundanes through.”

Adrian smiles. “Yes, well, that’s kind of you to say. But unfortunately, I don’t think that will be nearly as impressive to our assessors as you killing half the enemy elites.”

I wouldn’t be so certain. If this test is really based on Caethlian conditions, then any form of effective concealment should be treated as vital. It was a simple fact: cells without mages who could divine well and had concealment magic died very quickly. Though naturally I’m reluctant to express that knowledge.

“I’m sorry to press,” the mage from the crowd says, “but we were all wondering if you had any suggestions. You know,” he laughs, “since you went through us so easily.”

“Yeah, I had a few.” I say, a bit aggressively. “What was the deal with your divinations? Your explosions were all over the place.”

“…What do you mean? Our divinations?”

“The divinations that you used to aim your spells? There seemed to be only one of you who was remotely competent at it.” Emily coughs from behind, as if saying I didn’t give her a chance to show me. “…Possibly two.”

“Aim? We don’t really aim with divinations. We used them to get a general location, but it’s not precise enough to reasonably hit with. Adding counter divinations into the mix usually makes it worse than casting at random.”

I give the longest sigh – rubbing my eyes from the start of a tension headache. “What’s your divination implement?”

“Oh, cards. Why?”

… Of course. Once again, I spent so much effort trying to figure out the opponent's thinking, and it turns out they didn’t have any. Cards are famously abstract tools with low physical precision. It’s a balance: those with explosion magic probably don’t have as varied divinations, and those with varied divinations don’t have explosion magic. All save one or two it seems.

“…So, you’re saying you had no plan to kill us with the explosions. You were all just hoping to get lucky until something drew your attention?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it quite that way, but…”

I interrupt. “And I suppose you didn’t even coordinate a pattern? You weren’t systematically destroying buildings to clear vantages?”

He seems taken aback by this. “Oh, that’s a good idea.”

Sigh. I shouldn’t be too hard on them. It was the first time they were all working together and they didn’t have much time to plan. I’m certain they would have come to these insights on their own even if I wasn’t here to offer my expertise.

“Well, the explosion mages should all clear the buildings in a line at about midway, and then slowly expand out with the other mages divining if they’ve managed to cross it. On that note, your squires were too aggressive. They rushed in too far too fast. It opened up gaps I was able to slip through, to say nothing of making themselves vulnerable to ambushes. They needed to maintain the net, not look for quick kills.”

“I see…” The mage looks to a trio of squires who all scowl or grimace, but eventually nod in agreement. “Did you have any other suggestions?”

“…Not a suggestion, but a question. Who was the one who cast that bright orb near the start?”

“That would be me.” A very tall and muscular for a mage says from behind me. His orange arcane robe is sleeveless to display well-defined muscles, his scalp is bald with scarified arcane symbols and his face filled with a strange serenity. It’s a bit intimidating to be honest.

Odd that. It can’t just be that he’s twice my size and seemingly stronger than me just from his mundane form. I’ve encountered many large squires who were no doubt much stronger than him without feeling this pressure. So, it must be some combination of his form and implacable expression. Maybe an effect of those scar symbols or some vague quality of his mannerisms… which is to say I don’t know.

“Greetings.” I say with a forced smile. “You were pretty competent. You destroyed my hiding spots too late, but you did destroy them unlike the others.”

“…Thankyou. I noticed your strategy suggestion advantages you at the cost of the others.”

Shit. I was hoping no one would notice. “Oh, how so?”

“By focusing on a rigid and organized defence, it gives you time to rack up personal kills with that absurd crossbow.”

“I see. I don’t think it advantages me uniquely though. You should be able to pick them off too, and the frost mage might get a few kills. Besides, it’s not really a cost to them if they get more points because of it. Unless you have a better suggestion?”

He just looks at me with his unreadably tranquil expression for several seconds before speaking. “I suppose you’re right.” Then he just walks off without clarifying whether I’m right that this was the best for everyone on defence, or just the two of us. Not that it matters. With his support I’ll be getting more points than even my most wildly optimistic estimates.

I glance to the corner where those going next are nervously glancing at our strategy discussion – no doubt begrudging the coordination that they won’t benefit from until the third round.

As we head out for the next round the frightful youth walks beside me.

“…The worst should be over now, right?” He asks nervously.

I smile, uncertain why. “It should be. In fact, you might not have to do any more fighting if things go well.”

“…Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For making this miserable test worth it. If I get in, it’ll be because of you.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I don’t, though I am glad at his sentiment. After all, if he does get in, then it seems he thinks he’ll owe me a great deal. I doubt the debt will be that useful, but it is something.

Things go very smoothly for the rest of the test. No one gets through the second match, nor most of the others. I do nearly get killed one time as a desperate mage finally figures out how to divine my location with enough accuracy to hit (though to be honest I wasn’t putting as much effort to counter them as I should have). My shield goes down, but my armour saves me with only minor burns (I’d imagine).

Emily does well, getting a few random kills with her icicle orb each round. Finally seeing it from her side it’s rather a sight to behold. She lets the water sphere accumulate until it’s the diameter of several houses before freezing and shattering it in a directed blast that showers ice needles randomly over the entire enemy side. Supposedly each needle has enough force to go through the walls, though it’s hard to tell from here.

She repeats the spell several times as I and the sun orb guy picks them off with more targeted efforts. One time the sun orb reaches the height of its arch just as the orb shatters, causing brilliant patterns of light throughout the whole cavern. It’s breathtaking.

Naturally I don’t give her the time to use it when it’s her turn to be on the offense, just as she predicted.

I get at least two kills per match, often three, with Ser Terry loading. I ask if he would rather be in the screen, but I think he’s right that he’ll get more points for the assists. Not that I’m complaining.

I do however regret agreeing to his suggestion to a celebratory party after the last match. I try to get out of it, claiming tiredness, but he has none of it and drags me along, relenting only briefly to let me hand off my heavy weapons to Alan.

I try to play it coy when Alan asks how I did, but Terrance ruins that with an excited account of my victories.

“Oh, you’re going to celebrate then? If you want, I have shares in an excellent restaurant. I can get you a private room.”

“Oh, great! We hadn’t decided yet.” Terrance says, dragging me along to the group, which I notice has several members of the other teams.

“I thought it was just going to be our team.” I say wearily.

“More the merrier, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I itch, but I don’t know why. I don’t desire to offer any particular one of them. In fact, right now I oddly don’t think I want to offer anyone. I just… itch.