Checking his things one last time, Ed looked back at the Manor that had been his home his past year. He thought about Tom, and James, and Hannah, and all the others he had left behind in his old life. This would be Ed’s first time leaving London and he had no one to get excited with.
I’m always here, friend.
I don’t need your sarcasm today, Abe.
Who’s being sarcastic? I for one would love to gush about travelling from one end of your measly continent to the other. Surely the wonders of Heaven and Hell pale in comparison to a lake in Transylvania.
Okay, I get it, you’ve been everywhere, seen everything. You really ruined my moment, you arse.
Sighing in frustration, Ed hopped into the carriage, waving back at Grantham in front of the Manor steps. He was really leaving.
Scholomance, as the preeminent academy for the demonic arts, was granted a large subsidy by the Church. This allowed them to maintain costly Transmigration stations in the most supernaturally active cities in Europe and the Mediterranean, cities like London, Alexandria and Prague.
Ed was headed to one such station in the city’s heart. Clattering up the cobblestones of the London streets, the smell of industry permeating the air and the sounds of hawkers offering their wares felt like home. Grantham had told him about his own time at Scholomance and apparently it was nothing like London.
Nestled within the Făgăraș Mountains, in an idyllic valley overlooking Lake Hermannstadt, Scholomance was the picture of scholarly detachment. The lands around them had changed hands many times, from the Eastern Romans, to the Bulgars, to the Wallachians, now it was under Ottoman administration. Through it all, the academy continued to run uninterrupted, with powerful wards keeping its residents safe.
Stopping outside a nondescript office building, Ed hopped off the carriage and entered as porters came to pick up his bags. His luggage would be stored inside the building until they got word of his acceptance or rejection. Then they could send it through after him, or keep it secure for his return. Directed to an empty office by a bored clerk, he found a massive modified summoning circle in the middle of the room, surrounded by candles and black robed men.
The robes are a bit much.
Agreed, they’re trying too hard.
“Welcome, prospective pupil! This will be you-”
As one of the robed men launched into a welcome speech, another picked up a censer and lit it, spreading the scent of incense around the room.
“-chool year. Of course, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. If you would kindly step into the transmigration circle, we’ll transport you to the welcoming hall.”
Ed recalled what Grantham had told him about the entrance test. There were two sections, a written section and a practical one. The written test largely stayed the same throughout the years but the practical portion changed randomly with each class. Last year’s intake had had a race across an “obstacle course” that included spike pits and boulder traps. Grantham’s own class had done mock battles and as he was part of something called a “Games cohort” he expected Ed would get something similar, briefing him on the most anticipated Squires.
Finally stepping forward into the large circle, Ed nodded at the man who’d spoken earlier, and he started to chant, then the whole room joined him. The circle lit up with the malevolent red light of infernal Numen and the candles roared with power. The mens’ voices, the room, the candles, all of it slowly faded away in Ed’s senses, as darkness closed in all around him.
Just when the last hint of the room had disappeared, leaving Ed in an endless black void, he popped into being again in a completely new place. Glancing around, he saw he was in a gargantuan sunlit chamber with many transmigration circles inscribed on the stone floor. People were constantly materialising within them and being ushered off by more robed attendants. It was reminiscent of a ship terminal, with people bustling about and streaming onto and off the circles.
His own attendant came up and directed him through the bustle, to an assembly where there must have been at least four hundred hopefuls waiting patiently in front of a raised platform. Chatter filled the air as Ed walked in, staying near the edge of the crowd. A pale, dark-haired man ascended onto the platform. Turning to face the gathered youths, he raised his arms and started speaking.
“Squires! You are all gathered here today because you are the best of the best! Every single one of you made it here by your own merit, be it through fighting for a spot in the Page Tourneys or getting recommended by a veteran Knight impressed by your ability. You all stand at the peak of your cohort!”
The room erupted into cheers that the man waved down before continuing.
“But there is one last step. One final trial to overcome before you can take your rightful place among the foremost Knights in the world! The Proving!”
The crowd erupted into cheers once again, as attendants rushed into the room once more to lead the applicants away to where they’d presumably write the first half of the entrance test. Ed shuffled along with the crowd when he was grabbed on the arm by one of the attendants, who indicated he should follow.
Shrugging, he followed the man, moving against the flow of the crowd to a door on the side of the chamber. There was another, smaller transmigration circle here, manned by only two attendants. Ed frowned, confused.
“What’s going on? I thought we were meant to write the entrance exam.”
“Please step onto the circle.”
Ed glanced around, looking for some kind of trick.
“Please step onto the circle.”
“Okay, okay, no need to choke me with it.”
Ed gingerly stepped into the circle, and as the robed men started their chant, he wondered what trouble he’d gotten into this time.
----------------------------------------
He reappeared outside, on a circle engraved into a rock.
Ed, having only experienced the dreary English climate, stared about in wonder. The sky was clear, the sun was shining, it was a bit warm but not too humid. It was perfect.
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He'd landed near what looked like a gathering point for the Squires, on a grassy hill, as a group of youths were milling around either talking amongst themselves or staring at their idyllic surroundings just like Ed.
Ed, nervous around all these new people, shuffled his way into the small crowd. Most of them seemed to know what they were waiting for, speaking with easy grins and relaxed stances, while others looked like Ed, lonely and slightly confused. Ed approached one of the latter group, a sickly pale, skinny kid with red eyes wearing a large hat.
"What's the hat for?"
The boy, no, man, Ed had just seen the pale blond hairs on his chin, turned to him.
"Hate the sun. It burns my skin and hurts my eyes."
The man looked Ed up and down.
"You a mulatto?"
Ed shrugged.
"So I'm told. I don't know my father."
"My father beat me for being a changeling. You're not missing much."
"Are you a changeling? Never seen red eyes before."
"I don't even think those actually exist. I'm Gustaf."
"Edward. Want to be friends?"
"No one else is talking to us, why not?"
It was true. Ed and Gustaf were respectively the darkest and palest people in the group, so they stood out. Other aspiring demonologists were networking, making allies and connections, but Ed and his new friend had been softly shunned. Nothing egregious, but the others simply didn't talk to them. It stung a bit, but no matter.
The two chatted for a bit before Ed asked the burning question.
“Why are we here? I thought the test was in two parts.”
Gustaf smiled.
“I see you’re not well acquainted with how things work. We’re all already in.”
“What? How?”
The red-eyed man sat down, cross-legged, in the grass before answering.
“We’re a Games cohort, so this intake will work a little differently. You know about the Games?”
Edward nodded. The Vatican Games were an event held every four years at the Vatican, in front of the Pope and all his cardinals. All of the biggest magickal academies from around the world sent their best to compete against one another for glory and prestige. Crucially, it was one of the few sanctioned internecine combat events, where Knights could square up against Inquisitors and Squires could beat on Adepts legally.
“Well, only the people you see gathered here can qualify. Usually it’s a fair contest for places on the team, but Scholomance hasn’t won for a while and its position as the top Squire academy is in jeopardy. So they’re not taking any chances on flukes this time. Everyone here is of the highest Knight pedigree, trained from birth in the most prestigious Knight families.”
Ed looked Gustaf up and down, trying to reconcile a high pedigree with the vagrant, wildman look the man had. Gustaf laughed.
“Not me though. And I suspect not you either. I imagine a high-ranking Knight vouching for you counts just as well. Either way, we’ll be fighting it out to decide the placement. There are only ten spots.”
Ed felt uneasy. He’d only just arrived but already the rules were being bent and the privileged were getting opportunities denied to most Squires. He voiced his concern.
“But what if there are powerful Squires that don’t have the right connections? Are they just forgotten?”
Gustaf shrugged.
“The reality is, power breeds power. The best of us are most likely in this group.”
That felt wrong to Ed, but who was he to moralise? He had a direct link to Satan in him.
Looking over the group, he saw several that seemed to be more self-assured than the rest.
Ed, chatting away with Gustaf, tried identifying these few. The boy and girl who looked like twins were likely the Kriyakos', a famous greek Knight family. Solid builds, with the classic Mediterranean features of dark wavy hair and olive skin. Grantham had said their demons were likely related as well, allowing their powers to synergise to a terrifying degree. The tall, loud American shaking everyone's hand was named Bradley, he was one of the favourites according to Grantham. He had strange irises that flickered with orange light, like there was a real fire burning behind them. Of course, he'd curled his lip and turned away the moment he saw Ed.
I need to beat his face in.
Abe, having kept silent the whole trip, woke up, feeling Ed's emotions take a dark turn. The demon had recently taken up the not-at-all-annoying hobby of encouraging Ed to sate his darkest urges. Whenever an intrusive thought popped into his mind, Abe would start whispering how easy it would be and theorising how he could get away with whatever Abe’s latest depraved suggestion was.
What's happening? Ah, an American. He probably owns people just like you. Don't you want to do something about that?
Abe knew by now that Ed wouldn't give in so easily, but even the demon was surprised at the lack of mental pushback.
You know what? I just might.
Really? I mean, yes! Give in to those urges!
Ed chuckled and turned to Gustaf.
"How many people here has your demon encouraged you to kill?"
Gustaf laughed as well.
"Honestly? All of them. Ori is a bit.. erratic. But then again they all are."
I'm not erratic.
Shut up, Abe.
Gustaf, who insisted on being called Gus, turned out to have a lot in common with Ed. It seems people treated misfits the same all over the world, be it England or Iceland. As they built a rapport, a rumbling lightly shook the earth. A man grew out of the ground in front of the group, literally being formed from dirt and rock. A Knight.
He spoke.
"Squires! Welcome to a special section of the Proving, where your skills will be tested against each other in fair competition!"
Please. The fact he explicitly says its fair means there's shenanigans going on, I guarantee it.
"The best among you will be placed in an advanced course and eventually sent to represent us at the Vatican Games in front of the Pope himself! No doubt, those chosen will do us proud, but first the wheat must be separated from the chaff! Follow me to the threshing floor!"
These new demon callers are much too theatrical. Solomon had gravitas and dignity.
If you compare every Knight to the first and most powerful demonologist, of course you'll be disappointed. But I agree.
The group walked down the hill, following the Knight down to a large arena. The man continued explaining.
"We will have two stages. Team battles, in teams of two, then single combat. Your opponents for the team stage are randomly selected, but judges will be watching in order to place you on the single combat bracket."
There it is. They'll give their favourites the easy match ups and the main competition the worst ones.
Ed was used to Abe having a very dim view of human institutions, but feared he was right this time. Why else wouldn't it be random?
"I'm aware a few of you already have teams, but for those that don't, pick someone now, else you won't get the choice."
Ed and Gus glanced at each other and nodded.
"If you need certain specific materials in your environment, speak to your supervisors, who'll arrive shortly, and they can secure them for you."
He led them down to a series of small, cozy looking chalets.
"You will be staying in these while the team battles occur, to prevent anyone from gaining an information advantage over a future opponent. If you have any reluctance to commit violence, now is the time to shed it. We have an Inquisitor on hand to heal any injuries short of instant death, so no killing strikes, but all else is permitted. I must reiterate, any killing blows will be met with immediate exorcism, so calm your demons down."
Abe had in fact been loudly brainstorming how to get away with killing Bradley and making it look like an accident, but quieted as soon as the Knight mentioned exorcism.
"Now pick a chalet, two teams per house, and wait for your supervisor to come around and register each team. Good luck."
He sank back into the earth, disappearing. The group exploded in chatter, people calling out names for hopeful teammates, people discussing who the biggest threats were, it was a cacophony. Ed and Gus simply walked away, heading towards the very last chalet at the end.
Opening the door to a cool interior, Ed asked the question.
"So... You worried?"
Gus shrugged.
"Not really. I don't care much about the Vatican Games. My Knight just sent me here for the experience since I'm at a disadvantage compared to most others here."
"Huh? How?"
"Ori, my demon Orias, his domain is the zodiac. Depending on what constellation is in the sky, I get a different set of abilities. I can't switch between them yet, so I'm kind of a liability."
Ditch this loser.
Shut up, Abe.
"I guess I am too. I've only been doing this demon stuff for a year. Just a few months ago, I was still a page."
Gus laughed.
"The weakling and the newbie. We're going to get destroyed out there."