The song abruptly cut off. I blinked back to myself and realized I was in a beautiful blue-stoned cave -- I'd stepped further inside without realizing -- facing a deep pool of water. More importantly, the creature half-submerged within was not Nailla. Her whitish eyes, wild hair, gaunt frame... No, despite the many similarities, this was an entirely different species. A rusalka.

Hastily and, I realized, belatedly, I activated the Empathy suppression enchantments woven into my robe. Unlike when wearing the handcuffs, my extra senses weren't completely blocked, just tamped down to the level of light emotional murmuring. Unfortunately, this did cost a little mana and require conscious thought on my part, which now seemed a definite design defect; I was uncomfortably aware I'd fallen under her spell without a thought, and would probably still be enthralled if she hadn't stopped singing.

But she could start again any second, or she could just drag me down to a watery grave. A line from Spirits of the Water leapt out at me: 'More prone to malice, hunger, and instability, the rusalka can sometimes be negotiated with but never truly tamed.'

However, she didn't feel hostile, hungry, or unstable at the moment; instead she was staring at me in undisguised shock. "What did you say?"

"Oh," I said, "I thought you were..." Wait, could she be one of Nailla's sisters? Which was the bigger coincidence, if she was or wasn't? "Do you know Nailla? Of Deep Blue?"

She obviously did. Even my remnants of Empathy were enough to detect some spike of emotion in her... and in somebody else. Looking around, I couldn't see this hidden observer, though I did make note of the thick black line running across the cave not a foot away. Two or three more steps forward and I'd have carelessly crossed it, costing me the test. Frankly, I had forgotten I was in one!

"Where is she? No, don't tell me. I cannot bear if she too..." She trailed off, muttering to herself with the sound of lapping waves.

I hesitated, conscious of the probable proctor. But though I was Skilled in communication, preventing my words from being understood was a wholly different prospect. [Universal Translation] made all languages blur together a little, so it took conscious effort even to realize we were speaking Common; I had no idea which other language we might use.

Still, I thought I would be remiss if I let such an opportunity slip by. "You were with Breeders, right? But where?"

"Indoors. Without water." That was decidedly unhelpful. The rusalka gestured dramatically; letting my Empathy loose for an instant, I sensed her frustration. "I only heard names. Oliver Vines. Bill, Matthews, Karl--"

"All right, enough." A tall woman with short blonde hair dropped down into view. "Are you talking or attacking?"

"[Scribe]," I murmured.

"I would rather attack you!" The rusalka's shriek caused me, just as I was tucking the paper up my sleeve, to clap my hands over my ears. I took in the strange sight of her caught mid-lunge, elongated claws outstretched as her accompanying wave shuddered and writhed. Were they... wrestling for control over the water?

Then I saw the proctor's face stretch into a wide, disturbing smile. Instinctively, I stopped suppressing and probed with my Empathy. And flinched.

Monsters! I fled from the impending violence and the two reveling in it. Behind me, I heard a roar of sound as of water bursting from the ground.

I felt torn, but I did have the sense to flee forwards. And though I felt almost guilty doing so, I couldn't help sneaking a glance at my watch or fretting over the time. But I needn't have worried, as a short distance down the gorgeous all-natural corridor revealed the exit glow.

My heart beat faster. Did this mean the test was finally over? Or at least the running?

Exiting onto a rest area, I was granted a thirty-minute break. I highly appreciated this despite what it implied, namely, I was nowhere near done with the exam.

Indeed, after taking my break I was informed I would next proceed onto combat, quite possibly the single occupation I cared for less than running. We were now not only permitted but encouraged to kill. My stated objectives were to eliminate all monsters or as many as possible; failing the former, to escape out the exit door as though running another course; and where incapable of either triumphing or fleeing, to survive as long as possible.

My time would thus continue to be measured each round -- merciful mana, there'd be more than one? -- but also, out of it; I would be permitted only a one-minute grace period to rest and recover. The timer started immediately following this briefing.

My watch still served to guide me to my next location. I stepped through the entrance, my heart in my throat. I prayed for some time to assess the situation, space to maneuver, and means to avoid combat -- I was in favor of seeking the exit immediately -- but as I peered up at my first opponents I did not think my wishes granted.

Ribolers. Resembling knee-high flying mantises, their spiked forelegs looked impressively dangerous but couldn't inflict much worse on humans than long paper cuts. Of greater concern was their passive buzzing vibrations directly targeting the brain. Though categorized as pests, they could be incredibly dangerous in large numbers, since their mental attacks played off each other, becoming ever more disorienting. (And here I'd hoped the rusalka would suffice to test our [Mental Resistance].)

The specific advice I'd read for handling a riboler swarm was to retreat from their territory and pick them off in smaller groups. Unfortunately, this entire room appeared to be their territory, though thank mana I was at least only at its edges. Was I supposed to run straight through? I needed to think fast; I was already starting to feel a slight headache coming on.

No, I was not jumping into danger without a plan again. The entrance door beckoned invitingly.

Experimentally, I tried casting a cantrip and [Mind Over Matter], brightening when my discomfort instantly ceased. I was also perversely glad to know my headache wasn't all in my head. So now I most needed to avoid the pests physically swarming me; I had no wish to die slowly from a thousand paper cuts. Speaking of which, they'd noticed me and begun descending.

Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself ribolers would converge on defenseless-seeming prey. I couldn't let them see me that way and only knew one 'language' that spoke to them, even with my [Intermediate Universal Translation]. Surely... hopefully... this was proof these pests lacked intelligence, or no greater than that of houseflies, which I was already guilty of slapping and killing.

All right, enough rationalizing. I was sure by now the observing proctor must think me addled. No wait, now I was paying attention... I could sense they were on the verge of dozing off. (Hello, I was suffering an internal crisis here?)

I dragged in another deep breath and shook off my inattentive audience. I thought in some ways this should be easier away from the eyes of anybody who knew me or cared. Easier to become someone new. Or would I really? This was the only logical choice. Pointing into the descending swarm, I cast: "[Fireball]."

Though I had to blink away the flash of light, I sensed those first hit were vaporized, while those farther out were blown back. I eyed their slightly depleted numbers. That... was actually rather anticlimactic.

I'd killed my first monster! Actually killed. But in comparison to when I'd first injured Duni's rat minions, or attempted to, I hadn't truly felt the experience. My new robes enabled me to create some distance, yes, but more importantly my victims had simply disappeared to my senses. As far as my Empathy was concerned, they may as well have teleported out.

Adding lack of insult to lack of perceivable injury, the survivors continued to project simple aggression rather than pain, fear, or grief. I supposed I should feel grateful this occasion was less than momentous. And also that my aim was achieved: they continued gathering in numbers but did not yet swarm my person en masse.

A brief flare of [Advanced Empathy] confirmed the largest concentration of pests was straight ahead past this crowd, presumably where they nested. In other words, proceeding as though this were another running course would be a fine way to draw every last riboler in this swarm upon me. I had no way of avoiding these monsters entirely, but I could circle around on the fringes to minimize our encounters.

Thus decided, I left behind the surety and safety of the door through which I'd come and broke into a run, using [Magic Hand] and even my staff to keep the rare pest at bay. Thankfully most kept their distance, preferring to wait as they gathered, forming a hovering, buzzing swarm. Occasionally I shot [Fireball] or [Magic Missile], but this didn't stop their numbers from steadily increasing.

At one point I was too slow to cast another cantrip, causing [Mind Over Matter] to fizzle, and the sudden pressure on my mind made me stumble to my knees. Gasping, I cast in a single breath: "[Mana Shield] [Mind Over Matter]!" I was much more careful after that.

It didn't surprise me to discover the exit placed opposite the presumed nest. A stereotypical adventurer would've presumably charged straight forwards, fought the entire swarm, and assuming they won, razed the nest and proceeded victoriously out the exit, their course ever unwavering.

I, on the other hand, was rather proud to bypass said nest. Activating [Running], I didn't stop until I'd made it out the door.

In lieu of congratulations, my watch served up another danger zone. Lovely. I could see why so many people were keen on becoming professional adventurers.

As if on cue, a door burst open and somebody half-fell, half-crawled out. I gave a startled cry, causing them to look up. To my shock and disbelief, I was faced with a frazzled, bloodied noble. My concerned inquiry died unvoiced on my lips; I could see they were fine or would be. Averting my eyes, I hurried on to the next indicated door.

Somehow I doubted I'd be lucky enough to encounter pests again, and sure enough the door opened to a dark woods from which I sensed hunger and interest. Glancing in the direction of the nearest observer, my eyes widened at the glowing eyes that disappeared the next instant.

Shadowcat! I couldn't make out their dark shapes, but I knew they'd resemble panther-shaped shadows sprouting long antennae, which could sense movement -- especially helpful when attempting to conceal their glowing eyes -- and send signals to each other silently. Yes, despite their beast classification they possessed a telepathic communication system and relative intelligence.

They were far beyond my ability to handle. I considered dashing back through the door behind me forthwith. I could sense their calculating gazes, their lazy superiority, their eagerness to hunt... but also their curious wariness, which increased when my eyes unerringly sought out one slinking towards me. The shadowcat paused, sitting and feigning disinterest. I recognized my ability to sense them gave me a definite advantage, what some might call a golden opportunity, especially as I had no intention of injuring or killing this breed of monster. Actually, their intelligence might even prove extra advantageous.

Also, they could smell fear. I needed not to smell like prey or I'd be treated like one. This should be easier said than done, but I tried focusing fully on my Empathy, throwing myself headlong into my sense of these predators, including the proctor. Maybe it was just in my head (ha), but I did start to feel more like a confident cat. I even forced a smile onto my lips; Cheating in Combat advised faking assurance to gain it. I absolutely had this handled.

If all else failed, I could huddle under [Mana Dome] while screaming for help.

The pack seemed to be waiting on their leader, which was convenient. I stared straight in the direction of that strongest aura, concealed under a thick canopy. Raising my hand, I pointed it at their nearest tree, then dramatically lifted my hand and cast: "[Fireball]."

VOOSH. My demonstration exploded upwards, for a moment illuminating my clearing and the woods beyond. It fell silent again.

The pack leader remained unmoving. I stared at where I imagined them, willing them to receive my message. I didn't think the Adventurer's Guild would appreciate if I hypothetically burnt down this forest, but I guessed the shadowcats would be even more displeased.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Disconcerted by the continued lack of reaction, I pointed to a nearby tree and cast: "[Magic Missile]." Carefully, I directed the projectiles to fall all around a single trunk without hitting; one arced to land behind in a display of control I was quite proud of. Then I looked in turn towards each shadowcat I sensed, proving none could hide from me.

They didn't actually need to hide, since I was fairly sure any one of them could make short or long work of me in a direct fight. But they didn't know that. And just judging from Blake, stealth experts were greatly unnerved when I stripped away their customary advantage.

I was as reassured by their cautious respect as by the proctor's watchful presence. "Light," I cast. Then I seized the moment and strode forward through the woods.

I tried to behave as though I was wholly confident I wouldn't be pounced upon or could deal with any unfortunate pouncer. And in fact I did feel confidence... in the proctor. I was prepared to defend and surrender at the first outbreak of violence.

As I walked and they kept pace, I sometimes turned to stare directly at whichever was nearest. I sensed when one bolder cat worked up its nerve and stopped to face it directly, pointing; it abruptly retreated into the shadows, hissing in indignation. The other shadowcats bristled in anger... but not directed at me? The bold shadowcat retreated further, sulking, giving an impression of youthful immaturity.

I didn't quicken my pace when the exit door came into view. I didn't let down my guard until it was closed behind me. Then I felt my legs give way. I sat down, heavily.

My watch reminded me I still wasn't done. Right, I had one minute. I rubbed my face, took deep calming breaths, and Meditated. I wished so badly for a book.

Before I could wallow in doubt, I hurried to the next room and stepped inside.

Instantly, my head snapped up. "[Mana Dome]!"

Lightning shattered my shield but thankfully dispersed, grounded. The thunderbird let out a piercing cry, already charging another strike, and I ran.

"[Mana Shield]!" I cast just in the nick of time as I sprinted. "[Running]! [Mana Barrier]!"

It was faster than me, obviously, but what was scarier was its dexterity. It zipped and wove between branches like a hummingbird, and from this distance only my Empathy gave me advance warning a split second before it struck a fourth time.

I dove for a tree, but I wasn't fast enough. For an instant my vision dimmed out. I felt only shock, and then pain. I hit the ground, spasming; behind closed lids I saw shooting, exploding stars.

What spurred me into action was, now I was stationary, I sensed it gathering for a greater strike. Just before it unleashed its no doubt devastating attack, I cast Light and: "[Mind Over Matter]!"

KRACKLE-BOOM! Though I'd barely made it to my knees, I still stumbled a little at the impact. The very air felt charged, full of static, my hair drifting, mana motes dancing. But I hadn't been more harmed.

Hearing the thunderbird's thwarted cry, I hurriedly cast: "[Mana Dome]!" Mercifully, it paused its attack, circling. Letting me catch my breath.

It would realize soon enough its best bet was to keep up that flash barrage rather than saving up for a wasted finisher. If only there were a cleared space to draw a circle! Without that... well, I'd just have to rely on [Mind Over Matter]. I was a limited-trick pony, but at least my small repertoire of Skills made it easier to think on my feet. No decision paralysis here.

It kept circling, and I couldn't help raising a hand to my hair. As I recalled from reading up on wilderness preparedness, hair standing on end was a significant sign I was about to be hit by lightning. That was, even discounting the thunderbird.

Fortunately I was facing an immature specimen. A full-grown adult was significantly larger, each beating of its wings said to sound like the rolling of thunder, and I wouldn't be back on my feet after an attack. I was mildly surprised they'd risk this more valuable creature in a Silver-Ranking test, but then again we weren't likely to succeed in actually killing the lightning-fast monster. Hmm, they could probably recoup most of their expenses harvesting the body.

No, why was I wasting my time on such useless thoughts? But what else was there to do while waiting? Thank mana I wasn't wearing armor or other metal!

The thunderbird finally lost its patience, striking down my [Mana Dome]. I hurriedly started [Running] again, saved by the negligible cooldown for [Mind Over Matter]. That and the thunderbird's inability to change tactics.

Again and again it pelted me with lightning bolts I diverted or shielded. But a few slipped through, causing light burns and shocks -- I hoped they were light -- turning my limbs rigid. I grew so tired and frustrated from its nonstop harassment and possibly some emotional spillover I tried retaliating with [Fireball], [Magic Missile], [Magic Hand]... wait, I only had the three offensive Skills... but it dodged all these with contemptuous ease without so much as pausing its own attacks.

I quickly came to my senses and forwent offense.

By the time I escaped, I had to sip a mana potion while Meditating to recover my flagging mana. I also paced back and forth, breathing hard, trying to shake off the jitteriness and slight pain in my chest.

But the seconds marched on. Sighing, I had no choice but to continue to my next assigned room.

I found myself staring up at a cyclops. An actual cyclops; it was enormous! The scattered trees only reached up to about its waist. I thought it looked oversized for the room, though I'd otherwise have called this place large.

Its one eye stared back down at me. Then it smiled. "Hi~"

I wasn't fooled by its childlike joy. Even if I weren't able to sense its hunger, it was literally licking its lips! "Um. Wait," I said, thinking fast. Cyclops were supposed to be easily fooled, right? And what was constantly on their mind? "I... I have a cow for you!"

"Cow?" To my relief, it clearly understood me.

"Yes, and horses and pigs and... and sheep! I just need to go get them!"

"Sheep?"

"Yes, through that door." I pointed in the general direction of where I hoped the exit was. "Will you let me retrieve my sheep?"

It had to think about this for a long time, but I didn't dare move. I understood this was one monster I couldn't outrun. And forget fighting! The smooth ground did lend itself to drawing a circle, but I couldn't conceive of felling a cyclops with any single spell.

If it seemed hostile, I would simply return through the entrance door.

But I'd underestimated how swift it could be. "NO!"

Its voice boomed out, and I stumbled, recovering my footing just as it reached down and plucked me up with one hand. I froze in terror, staring wide-eyed as it raised me up. It gripped me in its fist so my arms were trapped helplessly against my body; I couldn't cast without hitting myself. It was so hungry it was starting to drool.

The proctor wouldn't let it eat me, right? It opened its mouth wide, and I cringed. "SHEEP! NOW!"

Up close, it may as well have screamed in my ear. The volume was so distracting I didn't realize what it meant until it began striding purposefully away from my entrance escape... towards the direction I'd indicated.

Oh! I was saved! Now I was no longer panicked from the thought of my impending demise, I realized how uncomfortable I was. It felt like the cyclops was grinding my bones against each other while also swinging me carelessly, each step it took jostling me further.

But as it deposited me in front of the glowing door, I couldn't help thinking I'd probably have accepted a cyclops ride rather than run those earlier courses myself. "Thank you!" I said.

"Sheep!" it urged me again, and I ignored the irrational pang of guilt as I escaped becoming dinner.

My watch apparently remained unsatisfied with the many monsters it'd foisted upon me. Again I lingered through the one-minute allowance, and again I trepidatiously entered yet another lair, finding... a meerkat? Then it spotted me and leapt into the air. My blood chilled even before it cried an alarm.

Skitterskrew! Oh, these were bad news. They looked a bit like flying squirrels except with really sharp claws, but they should absolutely not be underestimated. I nearly left right then and there, but looking around frantically, I noted the ground was at least circle smooth. Hunkering down, I started to draw like my life depended on it.

As with the ribolers, they started gathering in number and were easily discouraged from approaching early. Unfortunately, this didn't take long.

Despite their individually low intelligence, skitterskrews operated together like a fast, efficient military organization. In many ways they resembled pests -- the swarm tactics, the mindless aggression, the propensity for stripping whole fields including the farmers -- but they were simply too dangerous for the categorization. Their most famous image was of a skitterskrew diving past an armored adventurer without his helmet, leaving his shocked expression and slashed throat clearly visible.

In fact, skitterskrews had a highly distinctive attack pattern, where they leapt upwards into the air and then drifted slightly downwards, leapt up and drifted down, until they'd attained enough altitude for their signature slicing attack. And I was facing over a hundred of them, each one a potential killer in the making. They were hopping up and down in excitement!

I realized I wouldn't finish my circle in time, but fortunately I'd accounted for that and they were using the exact same tactics recorded in the bestiary. As the first wave sailed forward dramatically, not yet picking up speed because of the distance, I cast: "[Magic Hand]." Throwing the leader in their pincer formation off course sent the remainder into confusion, which I followed with a well-placed "[Magic Missile]."

Alas, they regrouped and came from all directions, and for lack of better options I cast: "[Mana Dome]."

Soon it was bedlam out there. Skitterskrews slammed up against my Dome, furiously clamoring to be the first to reach me. But my shield held, and I'd had the sense to draw my outer circle first, which I now scrambled to fill in.

Before my defense was brought down I'd started casting; [Mind Over Matter] sent the skitterskrews hurling past while I stayed blessedly untouched. Their coordination was such that I only had to worry about the occasional collision knocking monsters into the eye of my Skill's storm, but [Magic Hand] proved especially useful for eliminating these threats with barely a pause in my casting. It was remarkable how quickly my qualms disappeared once confronted up close with monsters aiming to kill me. They might be shockingly fast and lethal, but individually they were easy to smash or blast when caught tumbling out of the air.

I finally finished the spell, hastily repaired the damaged runes, and cast: "Mana Dome!" Yes, it was wholly unoriginal, but as it pulled upon my preexisting Skill, I could also cast from the circle with significantly more power, control, and efficiency. And I badly needed these advantages, as the monsters battered upon my hastily erected defenses.

I'd bought myself time to think and breathe. But staring around at this scene from Hellsfell, I drew an absolute blank as to how I could possibly survive with any reasonable assurance of safety to the exit. Perhaps I could try [Running] for it again with [Mind Over Matter]...

But no. I wasn't risking that swarm, not for all the enticement in the world. A single unlucky cut and I could bleed out before reaching a Healer. Or I might lose an eye, a finger... no, just no. I wasn't relying on some proctor to know and intervene the second I needed saving.

The greater issue, I mused as I looked around, was whether I should call for help or attempt to effect my own retreat. The latter seemed a pointless risk, but the door was right there... Also, it just felt dissatisfying to leave these contemptible skitterskrews without extracting some toll, though possibly my judgment was clouded by their pervasive hostility.

Why wasn't I affected this deeply in Duni? Oh right, I was always with my friends.

Glaring at the little menaces, I decided I would at least hold out for as long as possible. To that end, I attempted something I'd never done before.

While holding the casting, I started to fortify it. The concept was simple: just as I could repair runes so a circle might be used again, I did the same here but for an active circle. It was a bit like working on a wheel that was still in use, risky and complicated, but I could now in theory sustain and modify Mana Dome as long as I had mana. Which could be quite long indeed: I gulped down the remains of my mana potion and never stopped Meditating.

All the while my [Magic Hand] crushed little skitterskrew skulls. Proving they weren't completely unintelligent, the monsters pulled back. So long as they weren't crashing into my Dome, they could easily dodge [Magic Hand] and wait me out. Oh, that was clever: those farthest from my Skill launched fast attacks, effectively harrying me without risking their own.

I responded by ending [Magic Hand], conserving mana. With my Empathy unsuppressed, I easily sensed when and where they'd strike and re-cast to maximum effect. I'd probably killed two dozen of them by now. (Bessie wouldn't believe it.)

But eventually I knew to linger was folly. I waited for my moment and then cast: "[Running]! [Fireball]!" I simultaneously dropped the shield so I didn't eat my own spell. "[Mind Over Matter]! [Magic Missile], [Mana Barrier], [Mana Shield]--"

I ran through all my Skills to keep [Mind Over Matter] active and was just starting on cantrips when I dashed through my entrance door. As I caught my breath, a notification sounded. Confused, I checked and... what?

I'd gained [Enhanced Scribe]! But how? From reinforcing the circle? Still... shouldn't the upgrade have come earlier? The Skills system frequently made no sense!

As a Scholar, I had so many questions. But also as a Scholar, [Enhanced Scribe]! I couldn't keep from grinning in pure delight. I would do all of that over again, the whole month and every second of toil and turmoil, just for that.

"Miss?" A proctor was staring at me oddly. Right, considering I'd just failed my advancement exam, my obvious happiness probably seemed misplaced.

I obediently went as instructed to the Healer's, who after looking me over pronounced, "Hmm. Minor injuries. [Healing]." She only cast the second-tier [Lesser Healing], but as the Skill washed over me, I definitely wasn't complaining. "You're cleared for another Healing in four hours. No earlier, understand?"

From her stern expression, she expected I would immediately rush back into danger followed by a revisit to the Healer's. "Of course," I said, and seeing her unconvinced expression added, "Ah... isn't it over already?"

"No, you're marked for evaluation."

"What, really?"

She shrugged. "Congratulations."

Confused but pliant, I soon found myself seated in an interview room, or at least this was the impression given by the prominently displayed truth crystal, the extensive wards, and the smiling man seated across saying, "Sit down. Let's have a little talk. I just want you to be open and honest with me."

"I can see that!" Before seating myself as directed, I was already starting to babble. "Wow, you have three layers of spells encouraging me to talk, including your Skill? I suppose this is covered by the waiver consenting to mind-influencing spells? Well done on the sophisticated runic array!"

"It is, and thank you." For some reason my presumptive interviewer felt exasperated? "Do you have any other comments or questions before we start?"

"Yes, actually," I said. "I can tell you have already decided to fail me." His smile didn't so much as twitch, but I felt his internal reaction. "Why would you give me a final evaluation if you've already evaluated me?"

"What makes you believe that?"

"I'm an Empath." The answer just slipped out, not that I necessarily planned to withhold it, but I was mildly disturbed by my inability to censor my speech. I tried clapping my hands over my mouth. At least I hadn't told him--

"[Empathy] should be blocked."

"Not my [Advanced Empathy]." I spoke between my fingers.

We stared at one another. As I felt his unease creeping to fear, my mind suddenly filled with all the very many things I couldn't afford to say -- the questions I would almost certainly be asked -- and I couldn't help darting a glance at the door. Would it seem too suspicious if I opted out now?

The whole test had been one difficulty and danger after another. It had never occurred to me that my next test might be with words... or that this might possibly prove the worst of all.