“Rosewood, would you do us the pleasure of explaining this portion of the exam?” the Headmaster asked.

“Certainly, Everest,” the instructor adheres, taking his place beside Snowbell on the small stage next to the Orb. “Your practical will consist of two tests. There are sixty-four of you and, as you can see, just enough room in the arena to allow four students to move freely. First, you will be selected in random pairs and compete in two-on-two duels. Losing does not necessarily equate to failure. If you can no longer continue, raise your hand and announce your intent to forfeit. You will be graded heavily on your ability to cooperate with your partner and sheer effort. Again, your pairings will be random. You never know when you may have to work with a stranger. The Headmaster will explain the second half of the exam when the duels conclude.”

When Rosewood finished his explanation, I felt countless eyes dart at me. Yeah, that checks out. I am more of a liability than a reliable teammate in this situation. Everyone in our year knew about the oddball who couldn’t cast properly.

Beyond the crowd of anxious faces, I caught my sister’s toothy grin beaming at me from across the practice yard. Standing upright with both her arms flapping in the air, she was drawing the attention of other spectators. I could see her mouthing something I could only assume was, “You can do it, squirt!” and felt my face burn from embarrassment. Kaya, I appreciate it, but please stop. Your little brother can't hold a candle to your skill. I gave her a quick thumbs up and a nod while mouthing “Thank you” back at her.

“Well, then!” Everest exclaims, “Let’s get started, shall we?” He began with his theatrics, closing his fist, shaking it a few times, and casting a pair of conjured dice, making as big a show out of the ordeal as possible. They flew across the practice yard, landing in the center of the arena, each landing with a student’s name face up. The Headmaster repeated the process with a second set of dice. With a snap of his fingers, all four dice opened, releasing words into the air. Magic script displayed the matchup above the arena.

*

First Match

Iris Rainlace & Finn Graves

VS.

Aetos Veritas & Faye Rosewood

*

Oh? Now, that’s an exciting duel. Iris and Faye were inseparable. Any time one was spotted, the other would appear shortly after, sometimes out of thin air. With an affinity for Water magic, Iris excelled in wielding Ice magic. Faye had an affinity for Dark magic and specialized in Summoning. Unlike me, she had no trouble casting, though. She made any spell look like child’s play. To my understanding, being born with an affinity for a school of magic doesn’t disqualify you from others, but learning schools outside of your association can be challenging. For example, if you wanted to use Fire magic when born with an affinity for Water. It’s difficult, immensely so, but not impossible. But, Faye? She made it look like child’s play.

I guess it does come down to the individual’s motivation and skill.

I, however, couldn’t cast properly. I can feel the magic, but it doesn’t take shape. Perhaps my connection to the Void is to blame, but if that’s the case, maybe my affinity isn’t a school of Dark magic after all. Hell, maybe it’s not even an affinity. One of the oldest theories I found about the Void came to mind. “The Void is everything, but also nothing.”

My train of thought got derailed by someone brushing past me, trying to get a better look at the competitors taking their place in the arena. Iris and Finn are the first to enter. From the opposite side, Faye and Aetos join them.

Looking too enthusiastic before an arcane duel, Aetos greeted his partner, Faye, “My, my, the lovely Miss Rosewood. I’m honored to be your partner, even if only shortly.” While bowing, he extended his right hand and offered her a rose that appeared to have come from his sleeve. Only, it was just a simple, poorly executed sleight-of-hand trick. If she was flattered or delighted in any way, it indeed didn’t show on her face. She was utterly expressionless.

“Okay,” she said, obviously uninterested in his antics. A collective awkward silence takes the entire practice yard hostage, and I could’ve sworn I saw a tumbleweed roll by in my peripheral vision.

Compared to Aetos, Finn Graves was more introverted, but I’ve seen firsthand what this guy could do when pushed into a corner. Dusty, Kerry, and Alexis ganged up on him in our first year, thinking he was an easy target. I don’t know all the details, but I heard they had to get new robes.

Aetos always seemed more interested in girls than practicing his magic, but his skills with Wind magic weren’t anything to scoff at. He carries himself rather pompously and acts like he doesn’t have to try, but I’ve seen him training hard in this practice yard after everyone has left.

Rosewood speaks over the awkward moment as if it never happened, “Okay, students. Let’s begin.” A voice rose again from the spectator stands, and I could see Kaya flailing her arms and causing a commotion in her efforts to show me support. Again.

Some of the other students smirked and made snide remarks about how embarrassing it must be having me for a younger brother.

People in this Academy would never waste an opportunity to poke a little fun at me. Being the only student in Kusora who can’t correctly manifest their magic resulted in being seen as a pariah. I don’t mind it anymore, but I'm not too fond of the thought of disappointing Kaya. After all, my sister’s all I’ve got left of my family.

Headmaster Snowbell, still standing on the small stage towards the back of the practice yard, adopts a soft smile, raises his right hand, and emits a small red light from it that’s just bright enough to get the attention of spectators and students. I heard a faint but excited squeal from the stands. That was definitely Kaya.

With everyone’s attention fixated on the Headmaster, he exclaims, “When this light bursts and forms flowers in the sky, that is your signal to begin. We have Kusora’s best healers on standby, so don’t be afraid to give your opponents a good thrashing!” and with that, the light he’d been holding launched skyward from his palm, and exploded in the sky with a loud bang, conjuring a trio of roses. Before anyone could process how beautiful they were, at least half of the arena became covered in ice, a glacier in the center between the two teams.

Iris had made the first move, catching Aetos and Faye off guard, freezing their feet to the arena. Wasting no time, Finn follows up, launching two fireballs, one at Faye and the other at Aetos. Faye ducked under the flames while Aetos conjured a small wall of wind. It blocks the spell, but the fire, dispersed by the wind, singed the ends of his sleeves.

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“Hot!” he yells, flapping his wrists.

Fay reached before her frozen feet and placed her palm against the icy arena floor. A circle began to form in its center, the lines etched by fire.

“Ifrit. Now.” Faye commanded, and the fire from the magic circle roared and grew more fierce, melting the ice that restricted her team’s movement.

Finn and Iris were wide-eyed, and for good reason. The remains of the flaming magic circle smoldered, and in the middle of all four examinees stood an ifrit, a bipedal fire spirit with the face of a lion, cloven hooves, and a muscular build. Its jet-black horns swooped backward with the rest of his mane, nearly the length of its entire back, which sported wings made of smoke and ash.

Awes and gasps came from the crowd. Most of them sounded scared. I could understand why. Ifrit are supposedly spirits, but this monster looked more like a chimera: a hybrid of various beasts. Every examinee and spectator in the practice yard — and I do mean every single one of them, including me — was fixated on Freya. That is until I had the uncanny feeling of being watched. My eyes immediately fell on the strangely nostalgic silhouette of a woman under the spectator stands. I couldn’t see her eyes but knew she was staring directly at me. I felt it. There’s no way. There’s just no way it’s her. It can’t be.

But it was. I knew it was. I hadn’t seen her since I was three. I couldn’t even remember the features of her face, but I knew. It was my mother’s silhouette. Instinctively, I began to walk through the crowd of students, back towards the door we entered the practice yard through and rounded towards the spectator stands, keeping out of everyone’s line of sight, everyone but the Headmaster. He glanced curiously in my direction, shot me a sly grin, and returned his attention to the arena. He didn’t seem to mind me separating from the group of students, so I continued.

I could still hear the gusts of wind created by Aetos, the cracking of Iris’s ice, the roaring of Finn’s flames, and the roar of Faye’s ifrit, but my eyes remained fixed on the silhouette as if it would vanish if I took my eyes off it. It was only a short distance, but it seemed like an eternity. Finally reaching her, I took notice of her long, dark, curly hair and purple eyes. She looked exactly like Kaya but older and carried a black book bound in chains. I couldn’t bring myself to speak first.

“...Mother?” Kaya says, her voice noticeably shaken. It made sense that if anyone noticed me leave the other students, it would be her. “Is that… you?”

Our mother, the woman whose adventures I’ve heard bedtime stories about, who disappeared after she accepted a dragon subjugation quest with our father, turned to look at her. I was still speechless; I had no idea what to say. She was here, alive and well, smiling at the two of us. “It is, dear. I’ve missed you more than you could imagine.”

***

“I don’t understand.” Kaya began pacing back and forth, her voice rising, “How are you here? If you’re alive, where have you been? Where’s Dad? What happened? Wha—?!”

“Kaya, please.” Taking notice of the increase in Kaya’s volume, Mother placed a finger to her lips, still smiling. Removing her finger, she raises the same hand over her head. Then, she does something I’ve only read about in history books. Mom chanted [Shroud us in silence: Whispers], and a thin black veil spouted from the palm of her overhead hand like water from a fountain encasing us.

I poked the veil, and it rippled like water but remained intact. But why did she chant? It was an outdated practice. However, I had never seen this spell before, either. Kaya and I were momentarily speechless before Mother, still smiling, said, “Okay, now you can shout. Our voices will be mute to anyone outside this barrier.”

“Why did you—”

“Is Dad alive, too?” Kaya cut me off before I could finish my question. “Where is he?” She looked around, hopeful, but found no one.

“He isn’t here,” Mother answered, “but alive.” She then adopts a remorseful look and says, “Kaya, Kai. I’m sorry for leaving the two of you home alone all these years.” She reaches for both of us and pulls us into a hug.

She held us momentarily while I tried to make sense of my mixed emotions. I couldn’t tell what, but something was off. I freed myself of our mother’s hold and tried to ask my question again, “Did you just chant that spell? I thought chanting was considered outdated in this day and age. Also, what kind of spell was that?”

She wipes a tear from Kaya’s face and ruffles my hair before saying, “It’s true that today, chanting is viewed as an outdated practice, but in ancient times, before the founding of Centuros, invoking magic with words was common. However, reciting full scriptures to activate spells took too long in battle. Experts studied the structure of circles and the chants that give them shape until they found a way to shorten the chant and buff the power output. Eventually, they realized they could cast without a chant.”

“Then, why are you chanting?” I asked, a little overwhelmed. I don’t know any world history outside of what I’ve learned at the Academy, and most of that was limited to the kingdom’s founding.

“Chantless magic is practical, sure. But invoking your magic with words increases its potency. Speaking the words of invocation, followed by the spell name aloud, is the most efficient and effective means of casting quick but powerful magic. For example, my veil might have been visible if I had released [Whispers] without a chant.

We’re inside of it so we can see it, but it is entirely transparent to those outside its area of effect, withholding sound with it. Kind of like a soundproof barrier. Kai, take a step outside for a moment, please, dear.”

I obliged and stepped out, causing the barrier to ripple. I looked back towards Kaya and Mother. I couldn’t see the veil; it was entirely invisible to the naked eye. From my perspective, nothing seemed unusual until Kaya tried speaking to me, and I couldn’t hear a word she was saying. With the barrier invisible, it was indeed a bizarre thing to witness.

I returned and confirmed I couldn’t hear Kaya’s voice at all. Mother told us, “Without the chant, the barrier would likely have been perceivable.” So, chants invoked more potency in your magic. Interesting. But that information gave rise to another question.

“If chanting increases a spell’s potency, why is it viewed as an outdated, inferior practice?” I asked.

“I was about to ask the same thing,” Kaya announced.

“...We don’t know,” Mother answered truthfully; a look of frustration flashed across her face, but she quickly regained her composure. “There’s still a lot we don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Who is ‘we,’ you and Dad?” Kaya took the words right out of my mouth.

“Yes, but there’s no time for details. I’ve already been here too long.”

“What do you mean?” Kaya and I asked in unison. We looked at each other briefly and looked back at Mother, whose expression conveyed her guilt. At first, I was worried, but then I remembered how often I heard Kaya cry for them over the years and how heavily she grieved. Kaya was strong. She never cried or showed a sad face around me, but sometimes I could hear her sobbing at night, begging for their return. Even when she managed to weep quietly, her red, raw eyes at breakfast the following day always betrayed her. I could feel anger boiling in my stomach.

“Fifteen years ago, we left home to subdue a dragon. The dragon was nothing unusual, but a pitfall opened on the cave floor during our scuffle. We fell into its depths. We survived under the surface for a few months until we found a way out. And, this.”

She presents the black book, still bound in its chains. Something about this book was drawing my attention.

“A few months?! How did you survive? You couldn’t have had enough—”

“What’s the deal with that book? Is it whispering?” Without thinking, I interrupted Kaya.

Mother and Kaya turned to each other, shared a puzzled look, and then simultaneously looked at me. Kaya’s the first to speak up, “Whispering? What are you talking about, Kai?” Her expression changed from curiosity to worry.

The whispered voice from the book was getting louder and beginning to sound aggressive, almost angry. It was beckoning me to undo its chains, to set it free.

Mother darted glances between me and the book. “What are you hearing, Kai?”

I listened closer to the whisper before answering, “It’s asking – no – demanding that I undo its chains.”

Mother’s eyes widened with realization. Kaya still looked confused. But, I was in another realm of misunderstanding. Why was this book whispering and demanding me to set it free? And why am I the only one hearing it?