The students managed to make an orderly line that followed Ms Sterling out of the classroom, but dispersed into small groups and clusters as they crossed the commons. Jacob craned his head, trying to see where Camilla was.

"Jacob!"

He whirled. That was her voice!

Camilla was coming up to him, her dark curls bobbing. Next to her was the girl she'd been sitting with. They walked very close together as if they'd known each other a long time.

"Hey!" Jacob said.

"Nice entrance," Camilla said. Her friend leaned into her and they both giggled.

Jacob went red-faced.

"I'm just teasing you, moron!" Camilla rolled her eyes. "Jacob, this is Grace Lin. She's a childhood friend of mine. Her family is... similar to mine, if you know what I mean. Grace, this is, well, Jacob."

Grace had makeup on and was dressed in what Jacob now recognized as expensive designer clothing as if she were going to a party, not class.

He stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

Grace gave him a weird look, then reluctantly offered her hand. Her fingers were covered with jewelled rings. Jacob shook her limp hand.

She turned to Camilla. "He's the guy who was in the magical world by himself and did all that other crazy stuff?"

Jacob flushed. "Wait, you told her?"

Camilla folded her arms. "Well, obviously. She had to know how I knew you. And yeah, he is. So what?"

"And who is that?" Grace asked, gesturing at Blake, who had been standing off to the side, observing the whole thing with a curious expression.

"Jacob?" Camilla prompted.

"Oh, that's my roommate, Blake," Jacob said.

Blake nodded his head. "Ladies. Blake McGinnis." He turned to Camilla. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name."

"Camilla D'Angelo."

Blake's looked like he'd seen a ghost. "W- D'Angelo? Like-"

Camilla let out a disgusted sound. "Yes, 'Like Antonio D'Angelo.'" She said in a mocking deep male voice.

Blake's eyes widened, and he looked at Jacob and sputtered.

"C'mon," Camilla said. "I know a way we can cut to the front of the line."

She and Grace practically pranced off down the grass towards Ms Sterling. Jacob and Blake followed.

There were a handful of eager-looking nerdy types standing right behind Ms Sterling. Camilla had stopped next to a tall, powerfully built man standing rigidly at attention with his arms clasped behind his back. He looked so dignified and mature that Jacob thought he must be an assistant teacher.

"Hi, Archie..." Camilla said in a low drawl that set Jacob on edge. Why was she using that tone of voice with this guy?

The rigid man turned to her and his face brightened. "Camilla, dearest!" He was handsome in a golden, Hollywood poster boy way—even Jacob could tell that. His wavy hair curled back from his forehead, and his cheekbones and jaw were finely chiseled from stone.

Archie bowed deeply, which made Camilla giggle.

"It's been far too long since you graced me with your beauty." Archie turned and bowed to Grace as well. "And Ms Lin, as lovely as ever. I should have known you two would be together. Well, this class just got a whole lot better!"

Wait, this guy was a student? But he looked twenty-five, and he was wearing a three-piece suit and bowed to people, for Chrissakes.

"And who are these two..." Archie looked over Jacob and Blake. "I don't believe I've met them before. I'm Archibald Vanderbilt." He turned back to Camilla. "Camilla dear, you truly look exquisite."

"Thanks, Archie. Could we jump in line with you?"

"Of course. Of course." He moved back a few steps.

"Oh, I hope I'm strong," Grace said. "Aren't you guys so excited for the tournament? Like, isn't it so cool that we're finally the ones fighting in it?"

"It doesn't seem real," Camilla said.

"I gotta do well so I can get an internship and not have to study for good marks," Grace said.

"Just hope I don't have to face off with any of you." Archie rumbled behind them. "Won't go easy on you simply because I know you. Too much on the line."

"Won't matter," Camilla said, folding her arms.

"I just hope I can make it past the first round," Blake said.

"Those are always the best fights," Grace said.

"Grace, are you crazy?" Archie huffed. "The semis and finals are the best. All the different spells and talents. Seeing the strongest students slug it out against each other."

"But you never know what people's abilities are in the first round! You never know if someone got seeded way too low or high!"

"Jacob, what do you think?" Camilla asked.

Jacob froze. "I honestly have no idea. I've never watched it."

"Wait, what?" Grace and Archie exclaimed in unison.

"He's not from a magical family," Camilla said. "Gracie, I told you this."

The line of students reached the Elmore Building Claire had toured him past the day before. It was a small, one-storey structure attached to a large sphere that reminded Jacob of an observatory. Ms Sterling went in and they followed. The interior was dim. On the wall was a huge screen that belonged in a home movie theatre.

A tall, clean-shaven Middle-Eastern man in a tight black robe emerged from the doorway at the end of the hall. That same Venn diagram symbol was imprinted across the chest of the robe in gold.

He gazed over the gathered students with piercing eyes, then bowed. "Alia."

"Ebraheem. Is everything ready?"

"Indeed. I will recite some of Tisdale's Ceremonial Speech for them, and then we will proceed."

"The ceremony? You're seriously still doing this?" Ms Sterling folded her arms.

Ebraheem raised his hands defensively, the sleeves of his robe sagging down past his waist. "Just a few lines. It's important."

Ms Sterling shrugged.

The man cleared his throat. "'Fledgeling Mages. Today marks the first day in your journey as aspiring Rangers. Through blood or chance or other divine powers, you have each been given the opportunity to maintain the balance between our two great realms. You have been brought here today to test the colour and strength of your magic. Some of you will be greatly encouraged, others greatly disappointed. But no matter the results, the gift flows in each of your veins. No matter your strengths, your weaknesses, the weight of the gift rests on each of your shoulders; the responsibility of it is yours to bear, this day, and all days to come. Full hearts, strong minds.'"

Ebraheem bowed again. "Let us begin. Who is first?"

"Me!" The bespectacled girl first in line screamed.

"Very well." Ebraheem disappeared through the door.

Clearly knowing what to expect, the girl pushed her glasses up and eagerly followed.

"How does this work?" Jacob whispered.

Blake shrugged.

The home theatre screen flared to life, showing what must have been the interior of that observatory-sphere. The girl stood in the centre. Off to one side was a long, fluted mechanism that looked like a space rifle mounted on a stand. The opposite wall was blank save for a mirrored cone embedded into the wall.

"Pay attention!" Ms Sterling barked. "You will most certainly be tested on this."

Ebraheem's voice crackled in over an intercom. "Alright, Ms Smith, face the far wall and stand still. On my mark, engage your magic. Do not cast any spell, just engage your magic as simply as you can. Okay?"

The girl nodded and turned to face the little cone on the wall.

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Ebraheem continued. "I will release a thin beam of Production magic into this device. The device calibrates the magic and shoots it at you. As some of you may know already, light in our world generates magic in the magical realm. When we mages draw that magic through us and use it, it generates magical waste, like heat coming off an electric lightbulb, that manifests in the form of light. The magic beam from the device hits your aura generated from your engaged magic, mixes with it, and then splashes on the cone on the far wall. The cone is calibrated with the beam of light I send into the device. It absorbs the combined light, checks it relative to the calibration, and is able to tell the colour and strength of your aura. Intensity of colour on the cone will show your overall magical strength, while the colour shows the strongest area of your magic along with roughly which specific field of magic you will have the most affinity for. Your Strength Chart, which is comprised of your strengths in each type of magic as well as your colour, will appear on the screen above. Most of you probably won't have reached your peak strength yet, but your colour doesn't change. You are born with it. Now, Ms Smith, engage your magic."

The girl tensed. A splash of white light shot out from the device and splayed against the cone and the far wall. Slowly the cone turned a slight orange. On the screen next to the feed a circle appeared. Next to it was a radar chart with three axes labelled: Production, Consumption, and Decomposition. The circle turned orange, mirroring the cone. The Production axis and the Consumption axis each went up about ten percent of the available space, but the Decomposition axis barely moved.

They waited a few more seconds, but it didn't get any more intense.

The girl sagged. "That's it?"

"Don't worry, you may not have filled all your potential yet." Ebraheem cleared his throat. "Strongest overall type is Production, with a rough affinity for ward magics."

The girl slunk out of the room dejectedly and left the building.

"Next!"

The next one was a South Asian boy with a big nose Ebraheem called Ishaan. The cone grew intensely yellow. The chart read highest in Production, a little less than halfway out from the centre of the chart, and equal strength in Consumption and Decomposition. The highest point was close to the Production axis, but the entire chart had little peaks and troughs, no doubt areas of varying affinity or lack thereof.

"Strongest overall type is Production, with a rough affinity for structural magics."

Ishaan came out, his face expressionless.

Next went another boy. His cone was a deep indigo, and a little weaker than Ishaan's had been.

"Strongest overall type is Decomposition, with a rough affinity for psychomancy. A rare strength."

The boy came out and shrugged at no one in particular. "Doomed to be average, I guess."

"Is that what average strength looks like?" Jacob asked as the boy left. His Decomposition had been a little less than Ishaan's, but his Consumption and Production had filled maybe a third of the available space.

"It depends," Camilla said. "His Decomp was about 'average' with his Prod and Cons a little below."

"So that Ishaan guy was a fairly strong Production mage?"

"He's above average."

"It's better to be balanced," Grace whispered. "Then you're more versatile."

Next was another girl who was almost identical to the 'average' boy except her colour was a traffic light green, her strength in perception magic.

Next was Grace. She hugged Camilla before going in.

"Wish me luck, Milla!"

Grace stood in the small room. Ebraheem shone the beam on her. The cone lit up bright pink, stronger than Ishaan's had been, to the point where it almost glowed. The axes of Production and Decomposition went up fairly high, but the Consumption one barely moved, giving Grace's chart a lopsided appearance.

"Wow, a rare pink mage. Strongest overall type is Production, but just by a hair. And look at this, two rough areas of affinity, one being portal magics, and the other being wards."

The line buzzed with chatter.

Grace burst out of the room, bawling, her face in her hands. Camilla ran over to her and hugged her. "It's okay, Grace. It's okay."

"Of all the things!" Grace sobbed. Her makeup was running down her face.

"Why's she crying?" Blake whispered to Jacob. "She's strong, and that's a rare combo."

Jacob frowned, then remembered something Jimmy had said to him. "She's too weak in Consumption magic. That's why."

Blake quirked an eyebrow.

"Probably too weak to cast a strength-resilience spell. Makes it very hard for her to take hits in a fight."

"Ah. That actually makes a lot of sense. Brutal when you think about it. Why didn't I think of that?"

Maybe because you haven't had a rogue mage chase your ass. Jacob thought. He remained silent though.

"I'll come with you," Camilla said, soothing her friend.

"No!" Grace shook her head vigorously. "You have to get tested, Milla."

Grace fled out of the building.

"Are you okay to go next?" Ms Sterling asked Camilla.

"Yes."

"Okay."

Camilla walked through the door.

Jacob was about to yell some encouragement but was cut off before he could speak.

"Good luck, Camilla!" Archibald cried from behind him.

On the screen, Camilla stood in place. The light splashed the wall. The cone immediately started to turn crimson. All three axes went up and up. The areas around the Consumption and Decomposition axes slowed to a halt above where Ishaan's peak strength had. The cone began to glow. The Production axis kept going, and kept going, and kept going. The room turned bright crimson, as if someone had poured blood all over the walls and Camilla, so bright it almost hurt Jacob's eyes to look at.

Finally, it stopped. The Production bar was far higher than anything they'd seen yet. Jacob hadn't even thought it could go that high. Christ. Jacob shivered. He'd known she was strong, but he'd been expecting something a little higher than the others. This was a totally different league.

"Haven't seen that strength in years, but I suppose that was to be expected from a D'Angelo. Strongest overall type is Production, with the rough affinity being, of course, fire magic. Just like your father. In fact, exactly the same as your father. Sheesh, young lady, you got some firepower."

Camilla emerged from the room, her face neutral, as if she'd just left the washroom, not gotten her Strength Chart. The hall was silent. Jacob had joked to himself that Camilla could burn him to a crisp but Christ she could burn the whole building down.

She met Jacob's eyes and frowned. "Don't look at me like that."

"Sorry," Jacob said. "I just..."

Camilla sighed. She didn't look too happy. She folded her arms and stood next to the wall.

"Jesus jumping Murphy, I'd give my left nut, hell, I'd give my family, to have half that power," Blake muttered. "Well, it's us next, bud."

"You two?" Ms Sterling barked at Jacob and Blake as they approached. "Oh, I see. Late to class, but near the front of the line for testing? I don't think so. Mr Tanaka! You're up next."

"Wait, but-" Blake started.

"No buts, mister."

"They were here fair and square," Camilla said. She folded her arms and pouted at Ms Sterling.

Ms Sterling eyed her, then sighed. "Fine, they can go after Mr Tanaka."

The transfer student walked by them. He was about Jacob's height, but slouchy. His face was angular, almost malnourished, and dark circles hung beneath his haunted eyes. He walked into the sphere.

The beam hit the wall. The cone immediately darkened to a deep purple, almost black. But it kept getting darker, and darker, and darker, until they couldn't see him anymore. The radar charts shot up. Production topped out early, about average, then Consumption a little above. Decomposition went up and up until it was about where Camilla's Production had been. The hallway erupted into gasps and fervent talk.

"Holy shit!" Blake said. "Where do they find y'all?"

Surprise flashed across Camilla's face, then curdled into bitterness.

"I've never seen Decomposition this powerful." Ebraheem sounded awestruck. "Strongest overall type is Decomposition, with a rough affinity for... necromancy."

The gasps renewed. Ms Sterling's eyes widened.

Tanaka emerged from the room. He glanced at Camilla and grunted in smug amusement. His thin lips curled into a disdainful smile, and he walked out without a word.

Camilla's face scrunched up, and her hands balled into fists.

"Ooh, I'll show him." She hissed.

"Alright, you two latecomers." Ms Sterling said.

"You wanna go first?" Blake asked.

Jacob shook his head.

"Don't have to ask me twice." Blake lurched into the room.

The cone lit up a faint yellow-green. It was paltry compared to the two who had just gone. The radar chart for Decomposition barely moved. The other two topped out below average, but above Ms Smith.

"As expected from a McGinnis," Ebraheem said. "Strongest overall type is Production, with a rough affinity for forcewards."

Blake came out and shrugged. "Was hoping for a little more, but can't say I'm surprised."

"At least you're decent in Consumption," Jacob said, stalling for time.

Blake nodded. "True. You're up, bud."

Jacob swallowed. He glanced at Camilla, who smiled at him. He entered the room and shut the door behind him.

----------------------------------------

The testing room was smaller than it looked from the outside. Jacob didn't move further in.

"Your name?" Ebraheem asked from his perch behind the testing machine.

"Jacob Caibo."

"Hmm... Not from a magical family, are you?"

"No." Jacob realized he must have been talking with the other students with the intercom off.

"Well, nothing wrong with that. Just means we're in for a surprise. Have you demonstrated any strengths yet?"

"A little in Consumption. I've casted resilience spells."

"Promising. Place yourself, please."

Jacob faced the cone and took a deep breath. Oh, Christ! Green. Please green. Please, green! Now that the moment had come he wanted to be like Jimmy. At least, he thought he did. All that strength and speed and physical ability. That was what he'd been missing his whole life. If only he was strong then he wouldn't be so afraid of everything.

And please average. Of course he had fantasies of being like Camilla or Tanaka or even as strong as Grace, but in reality, he didn't want that at all. He'd read enough stories to know that strength like that would just bring him attention and pressure. Both things he shuddered at. All he really wanted was to be able to handle himself magically and be able to take control of his life. Let Camilla be the superhero.

"Engage your magic."

Jacob concentrated, found that muscle, and flexed it.

Ebraheem turned the light on.

The cone brightened, but nothing happened. No colour appeared.

His bowels dropped out from beneath him. He knew it. It had all been a dream. Imagining that muscle in his head had been nonsense. Bogus mental gymnastics. Jimmy had just been fake punching him when testing his resilience. They were all going to laugh at him. All the kids from the magical families. Of course, he wasn't magical. How could he have ever thought that?

"Can't be right," Ebraheem said. "No, can't be. One sec here, kid." He came around and held out his palm in the ray of light. Jacob felt a tingle of magic, and a small ball of fire appeared in his palm. The cone immediately flared red. Ebraheem went back to the device.

"Yep, it's working fine. Okay, kid, one more time. Really concentrate."

Jacob flexed his magical muscle as hard as he could.

The cone brightened but didn't turn any colour. Jacob started panicking.

"Oh my God," Ebraheem whispered. "You're a white mage."

"What?"

Ebraheem came over and showed Jacob his chart. All three axes had topped out about where Ishaan's Production had. But they were all at the same level, and the circle had changed colour at all. It was white.

He shook Jacob, who was too relieved he was a little above average to grasp what was going on. "Kid! Don't you get it?"

"Get what?"

"Pure white. Pure. I've seen some close ones, some eggshells and light lavenders. The last pure white mage was... forty, maybe fifty years ago. And before that... I don't even know! You're a unicorn! Statistically, it's almost impossible. Biologically it is impossible!"

Jacob didn't know whether to be excited or horrified. Not what he wanted. Not what he wanted at all. The axes weren't even all that high.

Ebraheem ran back over to the device. "No strongest overall type of affinity. All fields are perfectly equal."

Jacob left the room in a trance. Outside, everyone was looking at him and whispering, chattering, gossiping. Ms Sterling looked utterly stunned.

He looked to Camilla and half expected her to look bitter like she had after Tanaka, but she was smiling.

"Remember who found you." She said, then laughed.

"Dude, what the fuck!" Blake's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head.

Jacob looked down the long line of people staring at him in awe and talking behind their hands. He didn't really understand the hype. He wasn't even all that strong. But maybe it was like the tournament. Something all these magical kids understood and he just didn't.

Suddenly being the centre of attention was a weird feeling. As if an invisible barrier that he had carefully, unknowingly built up over years to blend in, to never be noticed out of turn, had just been completely and utterly shattered and here he was, naked and bare before everyone. He had a very strong feeling that after this point his life was going to be an alien experience, something out of a book. He let out a little laugh. The worst part? There wasn't a goddamn thing he could do about it.