”I’ve yet to meet a wizard that wasn’t a bit of a prick. I suppose it makes sense— If I could bend reality with some fancy drawings and sheer force of will, I’d have an overinflated sense of self worth too. Lucky for us normal folk, their hubris is a big fat crack in their impenetrable facade.”

— Extract from ‘Knowing Our Enemy: The Mage’ by Gindrin of Clan Steintor, a member of the Peacemakers renowned for his skills as a Mageslayer.

The Chancellor led Quinn through a maze of corridors at a brisk pace leaving him struggling to keep up. At one point, when he stopped to take in a peculiar fountain, its arcs of water forming a floating sphere at its center, he nearly lost sight of Talios who was turning the corner.

Before long, they arrived in a large domed foyer before a set of double doors as tall as castle gates. Filling the foyer in neat rows were desks with a quill, a single piece of paper, and an hourglass resting on top of each one.

Most of the desks were empty, but a few still remained occupied. The majority of the people sitting at these desks were human, but Quinn saw several squat bearded folk he assumed must be dwarves, an elf, and another short but stout figure that he was sure was a halfling.

“The admissions test will consist of two parts.” the Chancellor said, drawing Quinn’s attention back to him.

“First, will be the written portion that you will take here. When you flip the hourglass over to begin, a question will appear on the paper at the desk. Upon finishing the question simply mark through the circle on the bottom left corner of the page– do not be afraid to skip a question you do not know the answer to.

Once you have placed a mark in the circle, a new question will then replace the previous one. You have until the hourglass finishes to answer as many questions as possible at which point the paper will go blank again.”

As the start of his explanation ended, the large set of doors at the other end of the foyer swung open and out walked a finely dressed woman with her face contorted in a deep scowl. With a huff she straightened her back and purposefully strode towards one of the other halls that led away from the foyer.

Everyone seated at the desks then looked down at their sheets of paper. One person, the elf, stood up and walked through the open doorway. The double doors slowly began to swing shut behind them, but not before Quinn was able to catch a glimpse at what lay inside.

In the center of the Grand Hall sat several figures, professors he assumed, at a large semicircular table facing the closing doors. In the center of this semicircle was a chalkboard, a chair, and a small desk very similar to the ones out in the foyer just without an hourglass.

To the sides of the room the walls were lined with neat stacks of chairs and several long tables, giving the appearance that when this room wasn’t being used for admissions, it served as a massive dining hall.

When the doors closed again, Talios began the second part of his explanation. “When you have finished your written portion, the next segment will be the oral examination by a group of professors waiting for you in the Grand Hall.

They will ask you questions about some of your answers to the written portion and will guide you through channeling the Aether into a spell circuit to gauge your capabilities.

A hint of concern flashed across Quinn’s face but Talios quickly said. “Do not worry that you have never channeled the Aether before. For many, admissions will be the first time they attempt to do so.

Most places forbid those who have not studied at the University from attempting to channel without the supervision of a trained mage who has due to the danger of losing control of an Aether flow.”

Having reassured Quinn, Talios continued, “After you demonstrate your ability at channeling Aether, the board will hold a vote to determine if you will be admitted. Now that I have explained everything, do you have any questions?”

Thinking for a moment, Quinn couldn’t really come up with anything to ask. “No, I think I am ready to go.”

“Excellent, in that case take a seat at any empty desk and start. I will inform the admissions committee that we have someone testing late under…. Special circumstances. I wish you the best of luck.”

As Quinn went and took a seat the Chancellor strode over to the doors to the Grand Hall where he waited patiently for the doors to open again. When they did, out strode the elf who had entered earlier with a self-satisfied expression on his face.

Talios then entered the room as the next student stood up and approached- a human in well worn clothing and the tanned complexion of someone used to working in the sun.

Inside, Quinn could make out Talios conferring with the admissions board and gesturing back towards the foyer. When he appeared to be finished, he nodded respectfully to the student he had entered with and walked out, doors closing behind him.

He gave Quinn a glance from across the foyer and mimed flipping over an hourglass before he too was departing down one of the other hallways connecting in the foyer.

Quinn felt his cheeks flush slightly with embarrassment at the curious glances he got from the other petitioners still waiting to be called. He briefly noted that not a single one of them was still testing. He quickly picked up the quill, flipped the hourglass, and began to answer the first question that appeared on the paper.

–

Several hours later Quinn still sat patiently waiting in the now empty foyer. It had been as best he could tell about half an hour since he had finished and he had yet to be called in. Concern grew in his stomach as the last student waiting their turn had left about halfway through his testing.

‘What can be taking them so long?’ he thought to himself, ‘Did I really do that bad?’

Thinking back on the questions he was unsure as to how he had done. While he felt he had excelled on the questions involving mathematics, the most difficult of which had an eerie resemblance to some of the calculus he had to do in the Circuits class he had taken the previous semester back on Earth, he had completely and utterly failed at anything related to the history of this world in which he found himself.

He had no idea what the requirements were for a new Senator to be elected in the Republic of Tarth, nor did he have the faintest clue as to which of the dwarven clans had the greatest claim to the title of King Under the Mountain currently.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Even basic questions about geography he was unsure about, no one having told him what continent he was on, or that there were multiple continents.

Quinn did find some pleasure in his ability to answer at least some of the questions related to magical beasts, many of which were creatures he recognized from various mythologies.

He also felt the hours he had dedicated to tabletop games with friends had paid dividends in that section.

However, while he may have been able to identify the many magical beasts, that didn’t help him in the slightest in identifying various alchemical applications of manticore venom.

Quinn was a bit surprised by the large number of questions that seemed designed to gauge his morals. One talking about diverting the course of a rampaging earth elemental towards a smaller village to save a town felt really similar to something he had seen before but he couldn’t put his finger on what.

As he began to run through what he had answered again in his head, the set of doors once again started to slowly swing open and writing appeared on his paper instructing him to enter.

Quinn rose to his feet, took a deep breath in, and then slowly exhaled. Shaking his head a bit to psyche himself up and clear any doubts from his mind he headed through the open doors and towards the professors who awaited him.

The slapping of his sandals against the tiled floor echoed through the otherwise quiet hall before it fell silent once again as he came to stop in front of the semicircular table and regarded the five figures sitting behind it who in turn regarded him.

The person to break the silence was a bald dwarf in the center who had a braided beard the color of wet coal. “Yer Quinn Hart?” he said in a gravelly voice befitting his appearance.

Quinn gave a quick bob of his head in response.

“Good, that means we’re ‘bout done.” said the dwarf who gave him a wry grin.

“We ‘pologize for the wait, had lots to discuss considerin’ yer…” he glanced down at the stack of papers in front of him, which, at least Quinn guessed, had his responses to the written section, “Interestin’ gaps of knowledge. Professor Hindleton—” he nodded to a thin wisp of a man that sat at the end of the table to his right, “has been selected to ask the first questions.”

The man, Professor Hindleton, had an appearance not unlike that of a withered twig. He had a lanky, awkward frame, and beady eyes that were magnified twice over by the thick lenses of his glasses. Nature it seemed, had dealt him a very meager hand. Despite all of this, he spoke in a rather deep tenor as he addressed Quinn, each word with careful intent.

“Name one Senator of Tarth.”

Quinn winced slightly before responding, “Can’t say I know any Senators of Tarth.”

The professor stared at him blankly for a moment before speaking again, “The ruler of Estin?”

Feeling even more dejected, Quinn replied, “I am unsure—”

“That’s alright— How about this? I am feeling a bit forgetful, can you tell me the current year?” Pushed the professor, cutting him off.

Quinn got a distinct sense there was a certain point the professor was trying to make as he shook his head meekly.

“Well boy, suppose that certainly clears up a few things.” interjected the dwarf.

“Now, unless you’ve been living under a rock yer whole life– and you don’t look like a dwarf to me– then would it be safe for this committee to assume that you are an Outworlder?”

For a moment, Quinn wanted to deny it. He remembered the dangers that the Chancellor had told him about and Peter’s shock when he had put it together.

However, he felt as though lying here might do more harm than good. He also remembered how the Chancellor had assured him that Hollow was strictly neutral and nothing would happen to him while he was here.

“That would be correct.” Quinn said.

The person seated to the left of the dwarf, a woman with the wide brimmed glasses, nudged the portly man sitting at the end of the table next to her and gave him a look that screamed ‘I told you so’ before flushing slightly at the stern looks from her colleagues.

The dwarf seemed about to reply when the last person at the table, and by far the youngest, cut him off.

“Seeing as this explains the distinct lack of understanding in some areas, I propose we skip any more pointless questions and move on to the practical part of this examination. I’d rather see if he can channel a decent amount of Aether than watch him fumble through more questions he can’t possibly answer.”

“That is absolutely preposterous! If anything, we should move to immediately deny admission due to this information, not move on to the practical exam!” The portly man exclaimed.

Scoffing the young man replied, “Please, he has a better understanding of spell circuit mathematics than some of our fourth years. Besides, we all know the only part that really matters is the practical examination, the written test is really just for gauging character and giving us a starting point for what classes to recommend.”

Face growing red, the portly professor went to snap back but was cut off by the dwarf slamming his fist down on the table.

“Enough!” he bellowed, brows scrunched up in frustration.

He pointed a finger at the portly man, “Professor Everleigh, we will not deny someone admission to this institution due to their origin, no matter what it may be.”

On the other side of the semi-circular table, the young professor had a smug, self satisfied grin at his colleague getting scolded. It vanished in an instant as the dwarf whirled around to wag his finger at him instead, “And you, Mr. Whitewood, should know better than to interrupt me. The fact the Chancellor allowed ya to keep your predecessor's place on the admissions committee this year is already stoundin’, don’t push yer luck.”

Whitewood had the decency to look abashed as the dwarf refocused his attention on Quinn. “Er… I ‘pologize that ya had to see that. We will now continue.”

He glanced to both ends of the semicircular table before saying, “All in favor of moving on to the practical examination?”

The portly man sat with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. The woman to the left of the dwarf raised her hand, as did the young man, Elias, to his right. Professor Hindleton too raised his hand after taking a moment to ponder his decision.

“That settles it then. With four in favor, we move on to the practical exam.”

The dwarf gestured with his hand and a piece of chalk lifted off the board before drawing a seemingly perfect circle. Inside the circle, an array of intersecting lines began to be sketched, along with a series of runes unlike anything Quinn had ever seen before.

After only a moment, it was finished.

“Now lad, I want ya to listen closely ya hear? I got some information to give ya before we can begin.”

At Quinn’s nod of acknowledgement, he continued, “This right here,” he gestured to the drawing on the board, “Is a spell circuit designed to glow brighter the more Aether is channeled through it. Your goal here is going to be to get the circuit to glow. Seems pretty simple right?”

Hesitantly, Quinn shrugged and said, “Eh, yes?”

Laughing, the dwarf replied, “Aye, I suppose it seems simple and in a way you are correct. This is about as simple as it can get. The circuit is actively trying to pull in an Aether flow that comes near it. The hard part is, yer going to have to grab and channel enough Aether to make it glow.”

“That is where the danger comes in, ya see.”

Expression growing more somber the dwarf continued, “As ya might not know I will tell ya this to make sure ya understand. Aether is not your friend. It can be used to do almost anything, and in fact wants to, but not necessarily in the way ya want. Do not let yarself lose control.”

Pausing the dwarf gestured to the spell circuit, “That is why we use these, to give the Aether instructions and make it follow our rules, ya understand?”

Again, Quinn nodded.

“Good, now don’t worry, we are here to step in ‘case anythin’ goes wrong. Now, let's begin. First clear your mind, there are many different ways to do so. I imagine a forge grown cold, others an empty room, some a simple void. Doesn’t matter what ya use as long as ya got somethin’.”

Following the dwarf’s directions, Quinn closed his eyes and started to form an image in his head. A prairie stretched out in all directions around him, grass slowly dancing in the breeze.

Strangely, as he listened to the dwarf, their voice took on an almost ethereal tone, as though he was fading away into the distance.

“Now once ya have that image in your mind, I want you to reach out as though trying to grab somethin’, anythin’, to fill that emptiness in your mind.”

Quinn did so, and to his surprise he felt his consciousness brush up against something foreign.

His first thought was that it felt like rain on a sunny day, and, just like that, drops of rain began to blanket the prairie in his mind.

“By the look on yer face you got somethin’,” he could just barely make out the dwarf over the rain, its volume growing as more drops began to fall from the sky.

“I want ya to now imagine it flowing out through you and into that circuit on the board.”

Opening his eyes, Quinn fixed his sight on the circuit in front of him, letting it fill his vision. All else began to fall away as he willed the circuit full. In his head, the sunny day was gone. Clouds darkened the sky and water poured down from them in a deluge that threatened to drown the prairie. Before him, the circuit began to glow.

The sound of rushing water around him grew, and brighter the light on the board shone. Grinning like a madman, he stole a glance at the professors watching over him. The dwarf seemed to be saying something, his voice drowned out by the roar of the water.

The glare of the light was now almost blinding, the lines of the circuit impossible to see.

Quinn frowned slightly, wondering what it was the dwarf was trying to say, his expression growing concerned as Quinn didn’t respond.

Quinn opened his mouth to speak, but instead of words, water flowed out. Beside him, the board shone like the birth of a star.

The dwarf and Elias both burst out of their chairs, eyes fixed on Quinn and hands moving rapidly through a series of complex gestures.

As they did, Quinn saw a drain open in the prairie he held in his mind. The skies began to clear again and the water rushed down the drain and out of the now flooded plain.

Quinn felt a lance of pain stabbing into his skull. The edges of his vision went black and the floor raced up to meet him.