It wasn't long before her destination came into view, an ebony dome swallowing a piece of the sky. The mammoth of a building was cleared out for the day, with hundreds of classrooms and its duelling arena of ten thousand seats free for use. Surrounding architecture rooted in an Auricean style, it bore a certain orderliness unseen elsewhere in the city. Perfectly-aligned stone buildings alongside grass hedges snipped by the leaf—it all made Wyn's Institutional Place of Magic what it was.
"Destination reached. Exit here at Wyn's Institutional Place of Magic," the bus notified.
Val yanked her earbuds and vacated the vehicle, absorbed by the flux of participants. Sandwiched by people clad in elegant, thin coats, she snorted. Those rednotes spent on heating enchantments could be put to way better use.
Either way, they all dressed the same underneath. A requirement of entrance into the Tripartite Trial was to wear their secondary school's uniform, even if they hadn't stepped inside institutional grounds in years. According to the administration behind the trials, it made them easier to identify.
The stream split as the students circled past the water fountain statue of Celeste, a revered saint taking providence on the university’s step.
Pure water spilled out of the cupped stone hands of the Azure Saint, billowing out in mesmerizing waves only to crash against its ceramic restraints.
Val watched as people dipped their hands into Celeste’s crystalline waters, awestruck as the injuries lining their palms and fingers faded to reveal fresh, glowing skin. Healing the participants before they enter all hell, she mused.
“Hold on.”
Eventually, the flow led her to the stadium doors, and the person one spot ahead halted. A woman clad in a snug, dark suit and coat narrowed her glowing eyes. Seconds passed, the light in her irises shimmering off as she scoffed. “Really? You’ve inscribed protective enchantments on your uniform?”
“I-I have n-no clue as to what you’re talking about!” he stammered.
“You don’t?” Her eyes took on a crimson hue as she gripped his arm. A burst of fire coated her hands, painfully colourful against the hue-drained wintery surroundings, spreading to the participant’s light coat. He yelped and flapped his flaming limb around.
The lady cut her arm in a sharp horizontal motion and the fire died as fast as it came, revealing an unblemished sleeve underneath a ruined jacket. No smoke, no ash. “Tell me why there’s not a single scorch mark on your shirt, then?”
“T-that’s assault!”
“Read the guidelines come next year, okay? Next!”
“Hey, I haven’t entered yet—”
“I said next!”
Val swallowed dryly and ambled forward. The fire mage gestured to the green band of fabric wrapped around her upper arm. "These bands indicate the wearer is a conductor. It is advised you listen to every word coming out of such a person, understood?"
Val nodded, gaze travelling to the leaving participant.
"I'll need your I.D. and any devices or items on you except for your uniform. Jewelry included."
"And my jacket?" Val asked with a shiver, detaching her cartilage piercings on her right ear and unclipping her wristwatch.
"And your jacket."
She was vetted by the conductor for a good five minutes, the lady asking questions ranging from her birthday to where she worked, checking off something on her tablet each with a digital pen. There was a quick glance at the bandages wrapped around her non-dominant hand, but it was deemed unimportant.
Done with that, she walked into the crowded halls in a white blouse, grey slacks, and a red scarf—the uniform of Vexal Prep. She plaited her shoulder-length hair into two tight braids tied off at the ends, green eyes almost vibrant as they looked around. Got ten whole hours of sleep. Unheard of.
A hand jerked her backwards by the cuff and an “Urk!” sound escaped Val.
“Entrance period opened thirty minutes ago."
“And it doesn't end for another ten minutes.” Massaging her throat, Val chuckled as she turned to face a steaming Caro. “Strung up, much?”
Caro rolled her eyes and playfully punched Val’s shoulder, the two following the arrows placed throughout the halls. “Yeah, yeah.”
Slipping past a group of people, Val’s pounding headache became secondary news as Caro moved on to a new topic, clearing her throat. “So, it turns out that Aether Artifacts isn’t the big secret we thought it was.”
“You sure?” Val’s eyebrows pinched together unbidden. “I’d never heard of it before yesterday.”
“Though they didn’t really advertise it, they sure didn’t try to hide it either.” The two claimed a space in the halls, Caro whispering, “ It’s pretty similar to the stuff scions buy from high-end Artificers, only better. Practically broken. First thing that pops up when I search the internet though are classes for how to wield these weapons. ”
“Must have a high learning curve if there are university classes about them,” Val muttered.
“Real question is… where do they grab ‘em? Not like I can just walk in a store and buy one.”
“Didn’t you check out that group I talked about?” Val asked. “Aether Artifact Allocation Committee, I think it’s called.”
“See, while there’s a bunch of info on the Aether Artifacts themselves…” Caro sighed. “There’s absolutely nothing on the committee. And trust me, I dug in deep. However, I did make use of the facts you gave me about them using the Tripartite Trial as a way to choose candidates and it all aligns almost perfectly. Most get them right after the trials, others before uni starts. It adds up. This committee…”
“...uses the trials to pick and choose who takes home these must-have weapons,” Val finished.
“Meaning we better go crazy out there today.”
“Well then,” Val glanced Caro’s way as they neared a pair of charcoal-coloured doors, its height thrice their own. Only the Alphs of the distant mountains could pass through them and not feel akin to an ant. “You ready?”
“As if that’s a question.”
----------------------------------------
Val didn’t know what was worse, the clamorous din of thousands of conversations occurring or the wave of aura that nearly took her off her feet when she entered the arena. Her eyes slid down to the wood-plated floor as she used all the internal power within her not to melt into a pile of uncomfortable pain.
In doing so, she failed to witness the way fervent discussions slowed at their entrance, eyes wide as they sensed Caro’s attention-demanding aether pool in alarm.
“By the saints, who’s that?”
“Carielle Hayes.”
“You know her?”
“Hard not to, she scored purple on Deduction Day.”
There was a sharp inhale.
“Her ASC is one hundred?! You’re lying.”
“Ask anyone else here!”
“Yep, he’s telling the truth.”
“I know her, she goes to my school. She’s an absolute pain in the ass, though.”
Caro acted as if didn’t hear anything, a hand on Val’s arm as she led the way. “Let’s get you somewhere less noisy.”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
The task proved to be difficult with thousands of teens and young adults in every corner. Aura radiated off participants, ASC on a whole different level compared to those walking on the streets, almost alarmingly so.
They settled at the edges of the arena walls.
“You know,” Caro said, retying a bundle of curly hair that refused to cooperate. While Caro inherited some of her Auricean mother's light pigment, she acquired her father's luscious, coily locks indigenous to those from the country Kidra. “I didn’t say anything yesterday ‘cause I realized we were trying to play it cool, but how sick was it for Fiona freaking Rhodes to be in my house yesterday?”
“Yeah she was chill,” Val answered, taking a seat on the arena floors.
“Hold up…” Caro’s eyes narrowed. She pressed a steady gaze from above for three seconds, shaking her head with a wry grin. “You don’t know who Fiona Rhodes is, do ya?”
“Yeah,” Val replied in the affirmative once more. “She’s Bradley's close friend.”
“I mean like, as a mage. Her lineage. Any of it,” Caro said. “You don’t know.”
“Am I supposed to?”
Caro groaned, her reply drowned by a voice that thundered across the arena.
"Welcome all, young prospects of Ciazel. It is an honour to commence our annual Tripartite Trial!"
All eyes found their way to the far end of the structure, up inside the stands. A man in ceremonial robes stood with his hands clasped behind his back. "Today marks an abundance of things; it marks the first of the new year, it marks the beginning of the 32nd Tripartite Trial as well as the 40th year since the end of the Third Great War—the very reason we have this event."
He paused as he let the solemnity of his words settle. The Third Great War's repercussions were still felt to this day. It was the reason the Laws of Secrecy were made. It was the reason the social distance between non-mages and elementalists drifted away to a point of no return. It was the reason a lot of people of the previous generation were orphaned, her parents included.
“The Tripartite Trial is an event to test the underlying aspects vital to potential prospects aside from magical aptitude—to sift the genuine mages from the fake. Heavens knows it’s far from perfect, but you all have ten tries to beat its imperfections. More than enough don't you say?”
The wave of muttering that went through the crowds gave a different impression.
“Now, now, settle down. I’d like to move on to the first section of the Tripartite Trial. Please find a seat up in the stands. Do not, under any circumstances, touch the papers. There are no cameras, so I am trusting your integrity. You may now move, prospects.”
Ignoring the eyebrow-raising set of instructions, Val and Caro set out for the staircases lining the arena walls.
Their seating arrangements took some time to find, the sheer number of rows playing tricks on the mind. Seats were sectioned off by a clear, plastic divider. Affixed to the divider was a wooden attachment on its side one could easily pull out to write on. When Val did so, it came out with a stack of blank paper—most likely filled with words on the other side—and a pen.
The urge to flip it over was intense. Just a peek, a voice in the corner of her mind would say. To hell with that, Val would reply back. Not with her mother’s cure on the line.
Murmurs washed over the arena, like the soft pop of oil before it turned hot. From her vantage point, she witnessed participants of all kinds tussle with their exam sheets. They leaned over to those adjacent to them, saying one thing.
The papers were blank.
“Idiots,” Caro said.
A faint chuckle reached Val’s ears, its source the man clad in ceremonial robes a good 200 meters away. How she’d heard his quiet amusement, Val had no clue.
While hard to tell from where she sat, it looked as if the man dusted off his clothes and stood. “Five years ago, all those who flipped their papers would’ve been well on their way out by now.”
As he raised his hand, the sound of a snap boomed.
Val was dunked underwater, like someone clicked mute on the world around her. The low hum of the heaters vibrating and the muttering of participants became an eerie mime, existing without sound.
Despite that, her mind immediately went towards how such a spell worked.
You could throw boulders at someone, sure. You could burn someone’s jacket with fire, believable. You could pull the air out of someone’s lungs, painful, but capable of happening.
Yet how would one steal a person’s hearing? Did they stop the sound waves from hitting a person’s eardrum or did the spell directly nullify the eardrum’s ability to vibrate? Or maybe, it affected the auditory nerves directly. If so, was it reversible?
The man snapped again, answering her question. Val’s hearing rushed back, her sigh of relief paired with the actual sound of releasing air.
He walked forward, planting his hand on the guardrail meant to prevent spectators from plunging into the arena below. “In this arena, one in twenty lacked the common sense necessary to listen to simple instructions. That’s one too many.
“Soon, some of you will have the ability to call upon lightning with a wave of your hand, the ability to cause rain at your cry, the ability to heal the sick at your touch—do you know how dangerous it would be to let you run rampant if you cannot understand the rules of this land? I’m sure some of you have already seen the repercussions of letting these fools go on to the next trial.”
The memory of the air mage’s attempt at mugging her came to the forefront of Val’s, a shiver running down her spine at the thought of thousands of mages doing the same to defenceless people. He’s right…
“We have this trial due to those who think they're above the rules. They are, in fact, not. The awakening of one’s element is a privilege in this country, not a right.” Everyone, including Val, wilted as his stare roamed the auditorium. “Now wait until I say so this time. In silence. I like my mornings peaceful.”
He swivelled on his feet, his robes twirling at the action, and took a seat on one of the nearby empty benches.
As each minute passed and the wait stretched, the knots tangled in Val’s stomach doubled, her thoughts spiralling without control. The Laws seemed a living, breathing thing, choosing who would be more impervious to its rules compared to the other. Rich, powerful, talented—those of certain categories poked holes against its supposed impenetrable bar of information, Captain Rhodes might as have well confirmed it yesterday.
Would the trial admin care? What if they asked questions she had no answer to? Like the rumoured Paths of a mage, or the speculated disciplines of magic? What of the differences between the Central Essences?
The silence in the arena spurred her thoughts, all contemplating one thing or the other.
Val gasped as unknown, glowing letters bloomed on the page in vertical lines of script. By the saints, enchantments? On paper? The mysterious sentences settled a moment later. When it disappeared, words she understood appeared on the paper. The exam, it seemed, was always in front of them. Just hidden.
She couldn’t say it was inexpensive, but it sure was clever.
The man in ceremonial robes stood once more, attracting eyes with his movement alone. “Your window closes at noon, giving you all three hours to complete the exam. Raise a hand when you are finished and I'll inform you of your next set of instructions. You may begin.”
Before Val could catch a glimpse of her exam, a knock on her divider had her turning right. Caro made a zipping motion over her mouth. She then grinned and raised a thumbs up for good luck. Val smiled in response, the knots lodged within her stomach detangling themselves at her friend's silly antics. Her smile broadened as she glanced at the first page. This is the bare minimum to know.
Glancing back at Caro to see how she was taking it, she met face to face with an opaque divider, unable to catch even a silhouette. She did manage to catch the last of enchantments disappearing at the corner.
Shaking her head, Val focused on her exams.
Name the ranks defining a mage and state how they are classified.
Val allowed herself a smile as she wrote.
Novice
Adept
Magus
Magister
Archon
A common mistake people make is attributing the rank of a mage to the amount of aether residing within their aetherial vessel because of how we classify the 15 tiers of all aether creatures. In reality, the ranks are attributed to certain steps a person has made on their journey as a mage.
Val questioned how the system had worked—well what little of the system she knew with the Laws of Secrecy around. What exactly did those steps signify? How did it widen the gap between those who took it and those who failed to follow through? At the end of the day, she wasn’t here to change the rules, she was here to pass the exam.
She continued the test without any hiccups. The exam was the barebones of what any prep graduate should know, ranging from the difficulties of Oz’s Aether Creature Tiering System to the definition of Artificers and their five classes. The last question put Val’s rapid-fire pace on still ice, however.
Define an artifact.
It was an odd inquiry, with nothing to do with the elemental arts. Knowing the existence of the Aether Artifact Allocation Committee, though, unveiled a little of what the question was getting at.
There was only one line of info allowed to the word artifact, the rest hidden behind the Laws of Secrecy, and Val wrote it down word for word.
A channel, be it a weapon or jewellery, manmade or a nature-born treasure, of immense abilities.
Glancing at her wrist to check the time, she forgot they confiscated her belongings. The sparse amount of people still left within the arena told her she was one of the last few to finish. She reviewed her paper thrice and raised her hand once satisfied. By the time she blinked, the man donned in ceremonial robes appeared right in front of her, his clothes billowing as if a natural breeze flowed.
“Heavens!” Val flinched back. Now up close, she could tell he was of Auricean descent, his loose brown hair and peach skin tone giving it away. He held out a hand. “Exam?”
Still in shock, Val could only hand over the papers in silence. He looked over her sheets, nodding here and there before making a satisfied sound. “Looks good to me. Wait in room 215, we’ll tell you what to do from there.”
He vanished once more, Val not able to get a reply out.
How nice.