Headmaster Everest Snowbell is an interesting man. The only time he doesn't seem like a grump is when he's using magic. A strange type of man. Whimsical, yet serious. He often acted childish when interacting with the students of Kusora, but there was always an air of reliability about him.

"As you know, this will be your last trial here at Kusora Academy of the Arcane Arts," Headmaster Snowbell announces, his voice still booming via magic. "A final test of knowledge and application."

With a wave of his hand, sixty-four desks made of solid stone emerge from the courtyard grounds.

Seeing the number of desks reminded me how lucky I am to have made it this far. As first years, our class consisted of one hundred and twenty-five students. Most of the missing students couldn't keep up and flunked or dropped out. A few were expelled for abusing their family's influence within the Academy's walls. There are only a handful of commoners enrolled, but Headmaster Everest believes students should be judged solely on character, effort, and hard work.

More tragically, three students lost their lives trying to study magical fauna up close and personal. On the bright side, we now know that the Gold Skultulla spider is venomous, something most people would assume at a glance. Who'd have guessed the skull-shaped pattern on its back meant "Don't touch me."?

"Each seat is assigned to a student. Find your name and take a seat," The test proctor, Instructor Lucius Rosewood, a tall and slender man with dark red shoulder-length hair explained. "Once your seat is found, your test sheets will be provided."

I started the search for my makeshift desk, scanning each one for my name. During my scavenger hunt, I abruptly fell flat on my face. After picking myself up, I turned around to see what tripped me. A group of three is snickering, one of them looking proud of himself.

"Wow, low-born chump can't even walk straight. How did you get accepted into our Academy, runt?" spat Dusty Squabs, who's just as rotund as he is stupid.

"Haven't seen you around lately, Squabs." I brush the grass off my robes and turn to look at the goon that tripped me. "I assumed you were in hiding after your father was caught embezzling funds from the Academy's donations."

I could tell by the shade of red on his face that he didn't like that. The Squabs were a fairly prominent noble family that managed Kusora's funds and handled donations. A little over a month ago, Headmaster Everest discovered the family head had been embezzling funds from the school for the last three years. Essentially, stealing other noble families' donations to the Academy. If not for his connection to various other nobles, his family would have been exiled completely. Most of their wealth and assets were seized, and they now remain nobles in name only. Yet, ol' Dusty was just as full of himself as ever.

While he steams, his two friends, Alexis Primrose, and Kerry Buttons have shit-eating grins on their faces. Both are smaller than Dusty in stature, but make up for it with their enormous egos. Once they realized I'd noticed their sneering, they waltzed over.

"Great," I mumbled to myself as Alexis walked towards me, Kerry right behind her. "Here come the other two stooges."

"I take offense to that commoner boy!" Alexis laughs pompously while twirling the drills of her regal ringlet hairstyle. Obnoxious as ever.

"I concur," Kerry follows up Alexis's declaration, still wearing the typical shit-eating grin with his trademark blonde bowl-cut. "Frankly, a worm like you should feel honored we even bother reprimanding you. Our families built this kingdom, after all."

"That right?" I turned my back to them and started looking for my desk again. "The Final Assessment starts soon. Leave me alone and find your desks."

I turned back around and continued looking for my seat. They, of course, followed me. Mostly, they made fun of me for being unable to properly cast, but I've gotten pretty good at tuning them out.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Kerry wasn't exactly wrong about their families building Centuros. The Buttons family had a seven-hundred-year history of knighthood. A family that's fought to protect the Kingdom of Centuros since the beginning of its history. Kerry, however, was born with an affinity for Earth magic. His father is the Knight Captain of the kingdom's order. While the High Sorcerer is the King's right hand, the Knight Captain is his left.

The Primrose family, however, became nobles through more controversial means. They traded and sold slaves during the founding of the kingdom. Not only were slaves used to build this country's first roads seven hundred years ago, but their trade would prove to have a foothold in the economy. Nowadays, they maintained their wealth by capturing runaway slaves from the four neighboring territories and reselling them to their owners.

If slavery were still legal in Centuros, I'd likely be merchandise. Today's commoners are descendants of slaves who were freed three hundred years ago. The King of that era split the kingdom in two and essentially forced the freed slaves to live on the outer side of The Wall. While our kingdom abolished slavery, it's still a cultural staple in the Ruinia Dominion in the southern part of the continent.

The continent Centuros resides on is known as the Arcanum Collective. The Kingdom of Centuros is the oldest known territory in the continent's written history. It is located directly in its center with the Cilician Theocracy to the north, the Ruinia Dominion to the south, the Kano Dynasty to the east, and the Grimaker Empire to the west. I wonder what lies across the sea. I've never ventured beyond Centuros's borders and world maps aren't something a commoner can even dream of touching.

Still looking for my desk, I found myself in a peculiar state. I was now, suddenly, airborne. As I looked around, I noticed the remaining stragglers who hadn't found their desks were also being spirited away to them. Swiftly, but gently I'm set on a desk chair. Squabs, Buttons, and Primrose float by me, once again dishing out a hefty helping of slurs.

Please let this be my last day here.

I finished the written portion of the exam with ease. With nothing to do but wait, I rested my head between my crossed arms on the desk. It was not long before I dozed off to sleep, the exhaustion from staying up late, studying, catching up to me.

Slipping into a dream, I found myself in a sea of pitch black. A void with no beginning or end. No left, right, up, or down. A strong sense of fear enveloped me. This place is dangerous, I just know it. Yet, somehow I felt I knew the depths of this darkness personally. Like it was an old friend coming to visit after being away for a long time. Far, far below me, I could hear a faint whisper. Something lies within these depths, and it's calling to me. Without thinking, I allowed myself to sink deeper and deeper toward the eerie sound. The closer I got, the clearer the whisper became and I realized it's a language I do not speak or understand. According to texts, all of the territories held within the Arcanum Collective speak the same language or a slight variation of it, but this whispering was unlike anything I'd ever heard. No matter how closely I listened, I couldn't understand it. But, I had a bigger problem. I couldn't breathe.

I woke up and gasped for air. I took in my surroundings just to be sure that it was a dream. What the hell was that? That was terrifying!

Instructor Rosewood is standing next to my desk, already reviewing the answers to my test. I realized his hand was resting on my shoulder, and I wondered if he somehow knew I had just dreamt of something strange. He definitely heard me gasp just now.

"An astonishing number of these answers are correct." He leers at me over the top of my test paper. "Though, I suppose with the inability to cast, you must make up for it with something," He patted my shoulder and gave a jovial laugh.

I had gotten used to his comments over the years; he was the Enchantment instructor. He would often make similar remarks, but they never felt derogatory. It felt more like he knew I could do better, and often encouraged me. Unfortunately, so far, I have yet to live up to his expectations.

"Thanks for pushing me the last three years, Rosewood. Strangely, I think I'll miss your badgering." I mean it, too. Compared to everyone else's trash-talking, his pestering was friendly.

He looked a bit taken aback by this, gave one more hearty laugh, and said, "Keep up the good effort, Hendrix," as he walked away towards the stairway, where Headmaster Snowbell was waiting at the top, perched gracefully in front of Kusora's large, ornate double doors.

One by one, the students, myself included, made their way up the staircase, while the spectators, Kaya included, followed at a respectful distance. Nervous chatter filled the air as everyone pondered: I wonder what the practical exam will be. Normally, the huge double doors would lead to the entrance hall, but instead, the doors led to a different part of Kusora: the practice yard. We entered the doors from the courtyard, only to end up outside again, just on the other side of the Academy. It was as if someone had enchanted the door, making it more of a gate for teleportation than an entrance.

I took a long look at the practice yard and realized something. This will be the last time I see these grounds. At the far end of the practice yard, they had erected a small stage. Deja Vu. This reminds me of my first day here. On the stage sat a small altar bearing an audacious red cushion. Atop the gaudy thing sat the Orb. A spherical tool for measuring a student's magical capacity and affinity, used to test first-years at orientation.

Spectators quickly made their way to the right side of the practice yard, where Rosewood was directing them to their seats. Upon seeing the seats were in the sun, the Headmaster pointed above their heads and conjured an awning over the spectator seats, blocking out the sun, to much of their appreciation. Okay, seriously, WHAT is his affinity? He not only created desks out of earth and stone but also this awning. His magic doesn't seem to follow any of the usual formulas or rules.

The Headmaster takes his place on stage next to the Orb and announces, "We will now begin, the practical portion of your Final Assessment."

He waves his hand and much like how the desks appeared in the courtyard, an arena rose from the ground. It's square and quite large. Suddenly, I'm filled with a sense of foreboding.

Oh no. Oh no no no. Duels? THE PRACTICAL IS DUELING?! How am I supposed to duel?! My magic only manifests as a vague, empty energy in my palm!

Haha..ha.. I'm screwed.