Mal read the line of text again. And then again. He had no idea what it was supposed to be saying. He turned back the page of his textbook, flipping three pages before landing a paragraph he recognized. His mother got him the textbook to help him study for the Institute’s admission test, but it was an incredibly dense theory-based book, and Mal was having trouble concentrating on it. He began reading from the last place he remembered, but after only a few sentences his brain felt hazy and he was onto the next paragraph without the slightest idea what the previous was trying to communicate. He slammed the book shut with a loud clap, setting it down on his desk.
On his bed, Adrien jumped.
“You okay, dude?” Adrien asked, putting down his puzzle sphere. “That doesn’t sound like the quiet solitude of an intrepid mind, or whatever they are looking for up in Canada.”
Mal rubbed his hands over his face. “Theory is turning my brain to mush.”
Adrien brightened, “Then you can help me with practical application!” He said with a grin.
Mal nodded. He found he liked helping Adrien learn, and not just because he was his friend. Teaching helped him formalize his own understanding of concepts he had long stopped thinking about and even allowed him to apply them to concepts he was having trouble with. Plus it felt good when Adrien figured something out with his instruction.
“I can help you with yours, but I also need to work on my own practical skills,” he said. “Let me get the practice book my mom got me and then we can discuss the sphere.”
“Sounds good, dude.” Adrien returned to the orb in his hands.
Mal got up from his desk and bent over to search through the pile of books at his feet. It was more than he would ever be able to get through before the assessment test, but his mother was nothing if not enthusiastic about his magical education. Rifling through it, he pulled out a thin, paperback book that flopped around in his hand when he held it. Guide to Advanced Weaves the book proudly declared on its cover. Mal tossed it on his desk and turned to face Adrien.
“Okay, where are you with the sphere?” Mal said.
“On the third puzzle. It wants me to make a pencil float, but without a bunch of forms. I can’t figure it out.”
“Show me the forms you are currently using,” Mal said. Adrien did so, his hands moving through the patterns along the surface of the large orb. Mal immediately noticed the issue. “Your fingers aren’t making the right forms for the weave. You have them all correct, but when you are moving from one movement to the next you are slipping.” He paused, giving Adrien a small glance. “You aren’t focusing well. It probably would be a lot easier if you didn’t put both your points straight into Ichor.”
“Don’t give me that, you put your point into Ichor too,” Adrien snorted.
“It’s not the same. I put it there because I had a professor’s recommendation and wanted to shore up my fundamental abilities, not because Ichor is known as the beautification facet.” Mostly. Not entirely, at least.
Adrien gave him a wry look, “I’m a short, skinny, Asian guy with glasses. Look at me,” Adrien gestured to his supine body, “I’m basically a walking stereotype. I want to at least be the tall, skinny, good looking Asian guy with glasses.”
“Okay,” Mal said. He didn’t think Adrien wasn’t good looking at all. “But I thought you wanted to get your facets up so you could do magical research.”
“Don’t worry. Increasing Ichor more than a point or two doesn’t have much effect, at least according to the internet. I’m going straight into the mental facets next.” Adrien gave the sphere in his hands a serious look and moved his fingers around its surface again. It glowed green. “Hell yeah, Mal! Who needs mental facets now?”
Mal grinned, “I told you, you just need to focus. Let me know when you get stuck on the next one.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Mal turned back to his own practice book, flipping the skinny manual to about halfway through the pages landing on a weave he was having trouble with. He shouldn’t have any difficulty, from a complexity standpoint. He wove much more difficult spells when going through the puzzle sphere already, and even a few of the cleaning spells he knew were on par with it. The problem was the energy requirement.
The goal was to bring a glass of water to a boil by directly adding energy to the water. The weave was simple and straightforward, relatively speaking, but whenever Mal attempted it, he couldn’t move enough magic through the weave and the spell unraveled. The practice book was of little help. It broke down each component of the weave, illustrating how it worked and what each form added to the overall effect of the spell, but that wasn’t where Mal was struggling. He understood the spell, he just couldn’t make it work.
Mal took out a spare piece of paper and began sketching a weave on it. He moved through several forms, basic and advanced, before he took a moment and realized he had an overly complex mess on his hands and no idea how to close the weave off. He sighed and slumped back in his chair, still staring in frustration at the paper in his hands.
“Sounds like it's an off day for you,” Adrien commented.
“It’s the weave I’m working with. It’s too simple; it’s energy inefficient.”
“That’s not how anything works.” Adrien said, “Simple is efficient.”
“It’s not how magic works,” Mal countered, “And pulley systems.”
“Are you saying magic is a pulley system?” Adrien said, “Because I’ve been visualizing it all wrong.”
“It’s not a bad metaphor,” Mal said, scratching his chin, “but it’s not the one I would use. I think of it more like navigating a path.”
“Shorter is definitely more efficient for walking along a path, Mal.”
“Shut up. Just listen to me.” Mal shot his friend a mock dirty look. “Say you want to get to a specific place. There are probably a lot of different ways you can get there, right?”
“I guess.” Adrien said, “But I would just choose the most direct route.”
“Even if there was a big traffic jam in the way?” Mal said. He frowned. “That’s not right. It’s more like there's a big hill you have to climb on the most direct route. It’s fast but you will get a good workout.”
“Not if I drive. Or take a bus.”
“You can only walk.” Mal said, scowling at Adrien. Adrien rolled his eyes and signaled for Mal to continue. “So, the shortest route takes a lot of energy. But there's a lot of ways to get there. So you can completely avoid the hill and go on a nice leisurely walk through a park or something to get around the hill, but it will take you twice as long, and you have to remember a special route.”
“I think I get it,” Adrien said. “You don’t have enough magic for the direct route.”
“No, my magic is just fine,” Mal said. “The issue is my leg cramps up walking up the hill.”
“Is that supposed to be your low Power facet?”
“It’s just a metaphor, but yeah.” Mal said.
“I don’t get why you didn’t put your point into Power.” Adrien said, “It seems like it would make things a lot easier.”
“Easy isn’t the point,” Mal said, “I don’t want to do magic for it to be easy. I want to be great at it. I want to be like Professor Pewter, the best in my field. Professor Pewter thinks I can. He asked me to go the hard way, and I want to.”
“Then maybe stop complaining and let me work on my stuff.”
“You’re the one who asked!” Mal said with a laugh. “I’m going to get a glass of water to boil.”
Mal walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and returning to his room. He placed it on his desk and returned to his half completed weave. He was feeling a bit better after airing his frustrations with Adrien and thought he saw a way to close off the complicated spell. It was convoluted and obtuse, and took over an hour to figure out, but when he finally completed the weave on the page, he knew it would work. Now he only had to test it.
Mal moved the magic in the patterns he had decided upon for the spell. He actually used his hands for this instead of trying to weave with his mind alone. He could probably do it, but the spell’s weave was such a disaster that he would probably make a mistake along the way and have to start over. Better to get it down with his hands first before moving onto weaving it with his mind alone.
He moved his hands slowly through the forms, carefully tying the weave together. When he finally finished, he felt the magic move into the glass of water in front of him, slowly bringing the water to a boil. It took about ten seconds, the same amount of time it would have taken for the more simplified version of the weave, but used much less magic to do so. The only problem was it took Mal almost two minutes to weave properly. The simple spell would take seconds at most.
“Hey, that water’s boiling!” Adrien said, noticing the steam rising out of the glass, “You figured out a way around the hill?”
Mal cut off the spell, letting the water cool down. “Yeah, but I need to find a better way. I stupidly chose to walk through a hedge maze and I’m pretty sure there’s another way around it. My method was pretty pathetic.”
“Who cares if it’s pathetic? It works.”
“I care,” Mal grumbled, “And more importantly, the people who are testing me will care. I need to refine the process.”
“Well, you’ll have to do it without my input,” Adrien said, looking at the time on his phone, “I have to go.”
“But I don’t know what I can do without your valuable insights,” Mal said, “Please stay.”
Adrien smirked. “We get it, you’re better at magic than me. Some friend you are.”
“Thanks for coming,” Mal said as he walked Adrien to the door, “I do appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Adrien grinned and waved as he headed out, “See ya!”
Mal shut the door behind him, watching Adrien leave through the sidelight window.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Was that Adrien leaving?” Ophi asked.
Mal turned around to see his sister standing in the front hall. She was still wearing her school uniform and had a cookie in her hand.
“Where did you get that cookie?” Mal said.
“Kitchen. What were you guys doing?”
“Studying,” Mal said, heading into the kitchen in search of cookies. “Adrien wants to improve his facets and study magic, and I need to get ready for the admission test, so he and I have been studying together.”
Ophi followed him into the kitchen. “I wish I had a study partner,” she complained, “Mom has me doing the form exercises still.”
“I still do them. Fundamentals are fundamental.” Mal stuck his head in a cabinet, not seeing any cookies. “Where are they?”
“Uhhg, you sound just like her.” She took another big bite of her cookie.
Mal pulled himself out of the cabinet, narrowing his eyes at his sister. “Is that the last one?”
“What are you doing to prepare for the physical portion of the exam?” Ophi said instead of answering.
“What? I’m not joining the combat program.” Mal said. “I don’t want to be an aug athlete or cop or soldier or anything like that. I just want to do magic.”
“I don’t think you have a choice. I thought all American students needed to do the hybrid program at least.”
“That can’t be right.” But it sounded right. It niggled at the corner of his mind like fish at the end of a hook, familiar knowledge only half remembered. Mal stopped his search for cookies and turned to face his sister. She had crumbs stuck to her lips and a guilty look on her face. “What?” Mal said.
Ophi looked away from him, refusing to meet his eyes. “It wasn't the last cookie. It was the last four cookies.”
“Dammit, Ophi, I wanted a cookie.” Mal wasn’t really mad at her, he just wanted to complain. She knew it, too. “Where did you hear about the physical exam?”
“On the internet.” Ophi said, “On the Institute's website.”
That didn’t sound good. “Can you show me?” Mal asked.
Ophi nodded and ran off to her room, returning a moment later with her laptop. She placed it on the kitchen table, sitting down in her chair. Mal pulled a chair beside her, scooting up next to the laptop. It was already open to the Institute’s website.
“Why were you going to the Institute’s page, anyway.” Mal said as his sister turned the laptop in his direction so he could see better.
“Because I want to go there, too,” Ophi’s voice was almost shy. Mal glanced at her to see if she was feeling alright. Sheepishness was almost as foreign to her as it was to Rudy. What was going on this week?
“You’ll make it, no problem,” Mal assured her, “You’re already better than me at most things.”
“Not hard stuff,” Ophi said.
“Yes, hard stuff. What’s hard for me is easy for you.”
“That doesn’t count. Everyone thinks what you can do is hard.”
Mal shrugged. “Show me where you saw this on the website.”
Ophi clicked through the site, taking the same path that Mal did. She went to the student portal, clicked on new students, then applications, special admissions-
“That’s not right,” Mal said, “I want general admissions. There’s nothing special about me.”
“You want special admissions,” Ophi said. She placed a finger on the screen, smudging it with cookie residue, “See look. For students wishing for inclusion in the applied magics program - that’s the combat one - and the combined education program. That’s the hybrid one."
“But I don’t want those programs,” Mal said, “I just want the normal education program.”
“Keep reading.”
“This includes all students with citizenship from the United States…” Mal trailed off. The sentence continued, listing several other countries, but it wasn’t important to Mal. “Why do all Americans need to enter through special admissions?” Even as he asked the question he suspected he knew the answer. It was part of the agreement that Canada made with the Eten people. The wriggling fish in the back of his head bit the hook and was reeled in, bringing with it a half forgotten memory of a poorly taught history class.
He saw Mr. Samson droning on about the Merge. How Canada was under significant pressure from the rest of the world to come to a deal with the Eten leadership. That pressure included the US. Of course he didn’t phrase it like that, he said something along the lines of America using her diplomatic relations to secure provisions in the agreement. But it was what he meant. Mal thought he had a memory of Mr. Samson giving him looks while talking about it.
“It’s in the agreement,” Ophi said, answering his question, “All Americans get combat training. I don’t know why though.”
“It’s so the government can learn combat magic for free once those students come back to America. I bet the first group of people who attended from the US were all in the military or at military school or something like that.” Mal said.
“But it’s been twenty years since then,” Ophi said, “Wouldn’t we have learned everything by now?”
“Who knows?” Mal said, pulling out his phone, “All that matters right now is it’s kind of screwing me.”
“So you aren’t doing anything to prepare for the physical part of the exam?” Ophi said. Mal grimaced; Ophi noticed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stress you out.”
“I was already stressed,” Mal said, “It would have been much worse if you didn’t tell me. So thanks.”
Ophi nodded and turned back to the computer, clicking through the Institute’s website and Mal headed to his room.
[Hey Rudy, do you know any people who can help train for the Institute’s admission test? The physical part. Apparently I have to take it.]
Mal put his phone pack in his pocket, entering his room and sitting down at his desk. It was mid afternoon, so hopefully Rudy could get back to him before too long, though he might be training. Mal returned to his overly complex spell to kill the time, running through his convoluted logic and attempting to cut down the complexity of the spell to something more manageable. He noticed something that looked promising, an unnecessary step or two he could remove, and was just about to start rewriting the spell weave when Rudy got back to him.
[I asked Coach for some advice. He’s got some names that might help.]
That was good news, Mal didn’t even consider asking Rudy to ask his coaches for advice, though that was definitely the most obvious choice. Rudy followed up with a short list of names. None seemed to be individual people, which was a little disappointing. Instead they were all gyms with names like ‘The Aug Athlete’ or ‘Augmented Fitness and Training’. Putting his weave to the side, Mal opened up his laptop, checking his phone to look up the first name. Mal frowned at the phone as he did. He had received a text from an unknown number.
[Hi Mal. It’s Tian. Sorry if this is weird, but I heard Rudolf talking to Coach Hamm about finding a trainer for you and I made him give me your number. I hope it’s not weird, but I can train you if you’re looking for someone. I know I probably won't be as good as a personal trainer at any of those gyms but I’ll do it for free! My gym membership lets me bring a friend and I’m training basically every day anyway, so I thought you might be interested.]
Mal stared at the message. It had way more emojis than were strictly necessary. And there was no way Tian could train him. He could barely speak in front of the pretty Eten girl when he met her and that was humiliating enough. Trying to work out in front of her would kill him. Literally. He would die from embarrassment.
The phone buzzed in his hand. It was Tian. Again.
[Sorry that last message was so long, please don’t think I’m weird or anything. I just thought that it might be easier to have someone to help you out with training and having a workout buddy makes it a lot easier to keep a regular schedule if there is someone meeting you there every time you work out and can remind you to be there on time and everything. Plus it helps to have a spotter for free weights and stuff and if someone is there pushing you it can be really helpful for developing past the point that you might reach on your own. I know that you only have a little bit to train before you go to Canada for the test so getting as much out of your training as possible is probably what’s best.]
Mal was still going over the second message, which was also liberally sprinkled with emojis, when Tian sent another.
[Ahh! I’m so sorry that was even longer than the first. Also, I was not stalking you, Rudolf happened to mention that you were going to Canada for your test in January. Or maybe you did when we met you? Anyway that’s how I know that. Also sorry if I came off bossy or condescending at the end of the message, I didn’t mean to sound like I was bossing you around or that you don’t know what to do. Sorry!]
Even more emojis in this one. Mal carefully put his phone down on his desk, sliding it away from him. He was not ready to deal with that. Why was a girl texting him anyway?
Mal turned away from his phone, and to his computer, searching the first gym name that Rudy sent him. The Aug Athlete. The website was slick, filled with scrolling photos of implausibly attractive men and women in the middle of looking way too good being that sweaty. Large letters proclaimed The Aug Athlete as the number one gym for extranormals in the greater Los Angeles area. There was even a blurb about their inclusivity policy. All extranormals were welcome, not just Etens and humans.
Mal clicked on the membership link on the front page, bringing him to another set of high res photos featuring very attractive people in workout clothes. The page didn’t make it easy to find out the membership fee, Mal had to scroll all the way to the bottom, past bold words assuring him that “Membership Gives You Your Best Version of You’ and “Becoming Part of THE COMMUNITY” would be the best decision he ever made. When he finally got to the bottom of the page his eyes nearly fell out of his skull. Six hundred dollars for a month! One thousand to get a personal trainer on top of that! He was trying to save money for school, not spend it all in a single month.
Mal clicked off the site. He knew the equipment needed for training extranormals was expensive, but there was no way it was that expensive.
Mal moved onto the next gym. Augmented Fitness and Training, or AFT as the website called it. AFT was, somehow, also the number one gym for extranormals in the greater Los Angeles area and featured similarly attractive people on their front page. Maybe you needed to be this good looking to get membership at these gyms. If Mal showed up with a membership purchased online would they kick him out because he didn’t have abs you could shred cheese with, or a butt you could bounce a quarter off of, or…he couldn’t think of another expression that let everyone know how in shape you were by doing things with the body which one normally did not do. That was probably a good thing though, he had a feeling those expressions were degrading.
Ignoring the loud declarations of the site, he once again navigated to the membership page, prepared for the worst. Nine hundred dollars. There were no membership options for this gym, just nine hundred dollars per month. That was better, wasn’t it? It could mean that there was no option for personal training at all. Mal wasn’t sure he even wanted that, though if Tian was anywhere close to correct, he did.
Mal checked the next name on the list. XTRA Fitness. It was also the number one gym in LA, this time for ‘XTRAnaturals’ though. Twelve hundred dollars per month.
FemFatal Fitness. Not the number one gym in LA, but exclusively for women. It was progressive of Coach Hamm to include it, but unfortunately did not apply to him. Five hundred dollars per month. Maybe they were cheaper because of the poor spelling of their name.
Buff Bears had an interesting website. It featured only enormous men in its photos, but assured him that women were welcomed as well. Seven hundred dollars per month and a disclaimer that the gym was both run by and used by a primarily shape changing demographic. Mal frowned at the statement. Was that part of the Informed Consent of Interaction laws? He couldn’t remember. As usually though the ICI laws made him feel icky.
Top Cut Fitness was not the number one gym in La but the best gym in LA, according to the website. Eight hundred dollars. No extranormals allowed. Damn.
Mal checked his list again. Top Cut was the last name on it. He couldn’t afford any of these gyms. He looked nervously back at the messages Tian sent. She had sent him one more in the half hour that it took him to look up the other five gyms. It was the first actually short message she sent, simply asking to let her know what he thought when he had the chance.
Mal scrolled to the bottom of the messages. He clicked the text box with his thumb. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The phone seemed slippery in his hand.
[Thanks for the offer. I would like that a lot. Do you have a schedule and where do you train?]
He added a happy face emoji at the end of the message. That wasn’t weird, was it? He deleted the emoji and added it again but after the first sentence instead. That looked better. Maybe after the second sentence? NO! That was so much worse. It sounded like he was flirting with her. This was a nice, plutonic emoji. After the first sentence it went.
Mal hit send. The little circle by his message showed a check mark. The message was sent. Another little circle popped up. The message was received. Now he just had to wait. Mal’s hand was sweaty on the phone. He tightened his grip so it wouldn’t slip out of his hand. Both circles filled with color, message read! The phone was shaking in his hand now. Tian was probably typing right now. His phone vibrated in his hand, nearly causing him to drop it.
[Awesome! I free train in the afternoons since I’m not on any teams yet. Does that work for you? I was thinking we train every other day and start tomorrow so we can get the most out of the month.]
Again with the emojis.
[Sounds good. I have a lot of free time now since I’m finished school until the summer. Where should I meet you?]
[I train at UCLA and also go to a private gym on campus so we can meet there. I have a car too, so I can give you a ride home after if that’s okay. Unless you’d prefer to take the bus or something. That’s fine too.]
[A ride sounds great. Thanks a lot Tian. I’ll see you tomorrow.]
[Great! See you tomorrow!]
Mal put the phone down. His hands had stopped shaking but now there was a nervous tension in his back. He threw himself onto his bed, relief washing over him as he buried his face in his pillow. He had successfully texted a girl.
Why was he so exhausted?