Jeb stepped into the sea. Stars bobbed on the surface of small waves as they lapped at his feet. The moon overhead shone much brighter here, and Jeb saw the glittering water shining out well past where his eyes could track. He breathed in the salt air and felt the tension of failing the last exam start to fade from his body.
So lost in the peaceful crashing of waves on the shore, Jeb missed the directions that the Druid had given.
“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” he said, catching the final few syllables.
The Druid smiled warmly at Jeb. Jeb saw a dark undercurrent in her eyes, but did not think they were directed at him. Instead, they were simply a reminder that, for as peaceful as the sea seemed to him, it was still something to be feared. If he drowned somewhere far from shore, there was every chance that his body would never wash back up.
“It seems as though you took to the task without being instructed. For your second trial, you must stand where you are through the full cycle of the tides. Right now, the tide is rising.”
She looked him up and down. “Yes,” she said with a nod, “you are tall enough that you should be in little to no risk of drowning from the tide.”
With that ominous message, she leapt into the water. Rather than splashing against the surface, she seemed to become one with the water, floating away into nothingness.
Jeb shook his head, refocusing on his task. He could tell that he was supposed to understand something from the way that the waves rose and fell. The fact that he had no clue what it could be was probably an advantage if anything, because it meant that his thoughts would not be biased with preconceived notions of the right answer. He looked to the horizon, where the first glimpses of dawn were beginning to light up the nighttime sky.
He saw his sister’s star and hoped that she was doing well. His family had taken the news that he was going to be difficult to contact while in the Enclave well. His sister had been planning to go on her own Journeyman’s Trip at the same time, which probably helped matters.
For the entire town of Humdrum, the Journeyman’s Trip was a time to cast off the relationships you had forged during your childhood. Setting off with only Skills, Class, and the bare minimum of tools needed to practice a craft, a Journeyman would travel far from their home. The hope, as it had been explained to Jeb as a child, was that seeing new sights and meeting new people would help a crafter learn their trade more deeply.
The most humorous example that had always been given to him was of a Chef. His entire life, he had trimmed the ends off of each roast before cooking it, as his family had taught him. While traveling as a Journeyman, the Inn he was cooking for asked him why. Unable to come up with a satisfactory answer, he stopped trimming the roast. Upon returning home, he found his family and asked them why they trimmed their roasts.
“When we first moved here,” his great grandmother said, “we had but a single roast pan. The cuts here were larger than in our previous home, and the roasts would not fit in the pan. To make them fit, we cut the meat down to size.”
Even after his family had been able to afford larger pans, they continued to cut the roasts. After all, that was just a part of the process. It took one of them leaving to understand the reasoning behind the choice.
Distracted in his thoughts of home, Jeb did not notice as the waves grew higher and higher. As the sun rose in the sky, the waves were pushing at his chest. He remained where he was, relying on the occasional burst of Magic to tighten the sand beneath his feet. He had been told to stay in the same place, and so he would stay rooted in the same spot.
Rooted.
Something about the word sang to Jeb. He thought about the trees that were as much a part of the Enclave as the Druids living within it.
Am I supposed to think of myself as a tree, battered by the winds and waves but holding firm to my foundations? Something about the thought rang hollow even as he felt the Magic Skill within him resonate with the idea. Making a mental note, he took stock of his body.
Jeb, having never lived near the sea, had never realized how cold it was. His body had been wicked of most of its heat. It was nothing life threatening, but it was still uncomfortable, and Jeb flashed Create Fire around him for an instant to warm up.
At high tide, the peaks of the waves tickled Jeb’s chin. Like the sun, though, they started to fall as well.
The world is built in cycles. The thought came unbidden to him. A tree was rooted, yes, but went through different phases as the year progressed. The sun rose and fell at a regular rhythm, and the waves too ebbed and flowed.
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Looking at the waning moon, Jeb began to realize just how many circles interwove around him. The Magic in the water and air around him stirred as though waiting for him to come to a conclusion. In the warm light of sunset, however, Jeb was unable to close the loop in his own thoughts. The Magic around him quieted down, and Jeb’s heart sank. He knew without a doubt that he was going to fail the test, even if they were not pulling him out.
When the waves were once again lapping at his feet, the Druid emerged from the sea foam.
“I am somewhat surprised you lasted through the day,” she commented. “There are many who did not believe you had the strength to do so.”
Jeb took the comment in stride, still thinking about the Druid he had seen calling the Archdruid. Someone in passing had mentioned that he was a bear. Whether that was a Class, a certain cultural group, or a non-human species, Jeb still was not entirely sure. Regardless, he followed the Druid when she gestured for him to come further up the beach.
A roaring fire was quickly built, and a number of Druids came to congratulate him on making it through the day. Jeb was handed a stuffed flatbread and took it gratefully, scarfing down the warm food. Unlike the last time that he had been fed in the presence of so many Druids, no party broke out. Instead, once everyone had eaten their fill, they dispersed, leaving only the embers of the fire and the Druid with eyes like the sea.
“I am certain that you have questions about the test,” she began. When Jeb did not take the bait, she continued, “as you made it through the first day, tomorrow a Druid will be assigned to stir the waves up against you. As before, you are to stand in place. For tonight, though, you have certainly earned your rest. We will return as the tide again falls.”
She stepped back as though to leave, before shaking her head. “One last thing. Although you will have the day free until the tide falls, I would advise you to spend at least some of the time considering what you learned in the first part of the Trial. To be clear, this is not me speaking as the Judge of your Trial, but as Marigold, a Druid who wants you to find a Circle to call home.”
She sat down beside Jeb. “I was once like you, unmoored from any sense of connection, seeking Magic for the sake of itself. Finding the Circle of the Sea, though, I understand the world so much better. It’s truly-” she cut off and coughed unconvincingly. “Sorry, I do not wish to spoil your Trial. Regardless, I hope you sleep well, and I would be thrilled if you found your calling in the Sea.” With that, she walked away, and Jeb quickly felt sleep overtake him.
He woke well after dawn. Stretching, Jeb was surprised at how limber his body felt. He had expected some soreness after standing against buffeting waves all day, but if anything, the rhythmic pounding seemed to have loosened his muscles. Taking Marigold’s advice, he thought about what he had learned.
Thinking back on roots, Jeb noticed that there were few trees directly against the water. Instead, grasses and other thin plants grew. As the waves crashed against them, they did not stand firm and unyielding. Instead, they bent with the water, standing back up as the wave flowed out.
Remaining rooted and flexible seemed to resonate with the Magic around him, though not as much as the circles had. Try as he might, though, Jeb could not seem to find a conclusion to either. When Marigold came to take him back to the sea, Jeb stood and followed.
A different Druid stood on a rock which jutted out of the water. Jeb could not remember if the rock had been there during the previous portion of the Trial but pushed the thought aside. He would have no trouble constructing one in a matter of moments, and he was far from specialized in that form of Magic.
At first, Jeb was surprised that there were no traces of his stand in the sea from the day before. The thought that nothing was permanent, and any choice he made, however impactful, would be washed away in the seas of time resonated with the Magic around him, and Jeb felt a part of him reaching out towards something. When it retracted, he decided that it must not have found whatever it was looking for.
The second day of the Trial of Waves was far more difficult. Jeb quickly had to abandon the idea of standing like a tree, proud and unyielding against all forces. The waves that the Druid sent his way were just far too strong.
Moving like a reed helped, though Jeb failed to connect to the idea the way that his Magic wished to. Feeling the ebb and flow of each wave as the tide rose and fell as circles within circles, too, was something he wished he could understand better. More than anything, though, Jeb felt weak.
His lack of Physical Statistics had not come up once in his time at the Academy, likely because his were on the higher side. Now that he was surrounded with non-Academics, though, he realized how little his body could do compared to others at his Tier. The fact that his access to any School of Magic had been restricted only added to that feeling. In the absence of Magic, Jeb could hardly stand against water, let alone someone trying to do him harm. With as easily as the Druids were suppressing his Magic, Jeb knew that he could not rely on his Magic alone to keep him safe.
Something about the idea of self-improvement hit the same string that the reeds and circles had. Jeb was slowly beginning to build an image of the instrument in his mind. Before he could come to any firm conclusions, though, he was knocked over.
The water tore at Jeb, rushing at him as though trying to drown him. Doing his best not to panic, Jeb tried to surface. The water, held in place by the Druid’s will, did not let him.
Jeb dug deeper, willing his Magic to move independently of any School he had learned. He felt something in him snap, and the pressure around him suddenly lessened. Before he could rejoice, Marigold was pulling him out of the water.
“Jeb, are you able to breathe?”
Jeb tried, but the air felt like knives running down his body.
“What happened?” he finally croaked out.
“It appears as though you’ve strained your soul,” she said calmly. Grimacing, she went on, “Although this may not be the best time to do so, I must also inform you that you have failed this Trial.”
Jeb nodded and passed out.