Ronan’s face when they told him how they’d spent their afternoon was quite amusing. Causing him to drop his spoon into his bowl of soup, had all three laughing while Ronan used a table napkin to clean up the mess.

“I honestly wasn’t sure they would let you test out. As far as I know, they haven’t allowed anyone to do so in decades.”

Shrugging, Quinten took a bite of venison, enjoying the way it melted on his tongue.

“The headmistress didn’t seem too opposed to the idea, and Instructor Burns fought for us to get the chance.”

“Maybe she just likes us?” Cedric asked before taking a bite of mashed potatoes.

Brow furrowing, Quinten said, “I don’t know. I got this weird feeling that she doesn’t really want me here…?”

“No surprise there,” said Cedric, his words having to fight their way out from between stuffed cheeks. “Maybe she just likes me and is letting you come along.”

Chuckling, Ronan said, “Rude. But, now you can graduate with me. Stars only know. Maybe we really will get sent off to fight with your grandfather.”

“I would rather go to war than to the royal court.” Quinten said, sawing forcefully through the meat on his plate. The knife screeching as it skid across the smooth surface.

Ronan met Cedric’s eyes with lifted brows. Shrugging, the younger man could only offer a small, sad smile in reply.

Burns grabbed the pair after dinner. Reviewing the changes to their schedules going forward. He was currently taking them to meet someone at Quinten’s request.

“You want to do weapons training with my men?” Captain Reece asked as he gave the two a careful inspection.

“Yes, Captain, we do.” Quinten answered, looking the man in the eye. Something passed between them. The understanding that the other had stood toe-to-toe with an enemy and come out the other side, changed.

Nodding, Reece said, “Very well, Mage Valtieri. The Academy guards train just after first bell, or an hour before last, in one of the training fields. You are welcome to join any time you like. I will let my people know to expect you.”

Smiling, Quinten reached out to trade grips with the man. “We both appreciate it, Captain. I can already feel myself getting rusty.”

Giving a small smile of his own, Reece said, “Well we can’t have that now can we, my lor—er Mage Valtieri.” He finished with a cough to cover his mistake.

“We’ll let you get back to your duties, Captain. Thank you for your time. I hope to face off with you in training soon.”

*****

The next morning, Cedric and Quinten walked into their newly assigned class, and were pleasantly surprised to see Ronan seated by himself. Sitting down beside him, they startled him out of his focused scribbling.

With a jerk, he looked up while simultaneously covering up what he’d been working on. Realizing who it was, he broke out into a grin. “They placed you both in this class? Who’s poor decision was that?”

Quinten smirked, trying to ignore the stares and murmurs from the older and unfamiliar students around them. “Don’t pretend you didn’t miss us—”

An instructor, whom Quinten had seen but did not know, pushed open the door and swept into the room. Her expression stern, and her steps purposeful. She walked down the stairs and to the center of the dais, her eyes scanning the room before settling, and narrowing, on the two newcomers.

“Today is a practical lesson on magical warfare. You,” she said, pointing directly at Quinten, “tell me, we are at war on the western plains. What would be the most impactful type of magic we could use on the frontier?”

Quinten frowned. That’s a fairly complex question with a lot of contextual answers. I’m just supposed to know which one she’s looking for?

“Is the question to difficult to answer? Maybe you aren’t ready to skip a whole year of training then, are you?” The instructor asked in a clipped tone laced with superiority.

Ah, he thought, she’s going to have a rebuttal ready for anything I might say.

Starting slowly, as if he were skirting a literal trap field, Quinten said. “Not too difficult, Instructor. But it is a complicated question, and I would have to say it depends on the context of the situation. If an imminent force is fast approaching and the composition of the mages present is appropriate, the answer would be Elemental magic to build defenses. If Mental magic is the main resource available, a large screen or illusion could be created to hide our forces until they were either in position to attack or retreat.”

The instructor’s condescending smirk slid the longer he spoke. Her face turning red, and her thin fingers wrapped around the top of the lectern like a bird’s talons on a branch. Through gritted teeth, she said, “I did not ask for Hypotheticals. I asked for a single answer. Now, what would be the most impactful magic on the frontier?”

Quinten took a steadying breath before answering in a far calmer voice than her waspish tone.

“Burn it.”

“Burn it?” She repeated in confusion.

“Burn it.” Quinten stated once more, “Burn the plains, and the Drakovians with it.”

The two stared at each other for a long moment in a silent battle of wills. The murmuring of students lost in the background. She broke eye contact first, shifting her gaze and attention away from him.

“Isn’t that rather harsh?”

“He just wants to burn their homes? Wouldn’t that just make them retaliate…?”

The class moved on, with the instructor, giving his side of the room a wide berth. Though, Quinten had to begrudgingly admit the woman had a solid grasp of Drakovian tactics and the advantages they held on the open plains.

The bell signaling the end of the period was a relief. Rising to his feet, a heavy hand clapped on to his shoulder, taking a firm grip.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Quinten turned to see a young man, a little taller than himself, invading his personal space. “Well done, little pyro. Instructor Ross isn’t an easy one to beat in an argument.” A twisted smirk appeared on his otherwise handsome face. “A little advice. You may want to keep that silver-tongue of yours in check. No one likes a know-it-all.”

Grinning, he continued in a much softer voice, one only the two of them should have been able to hear. “You have enough problems already, don’t you traitor’s son?”

“Hey Ronan, who’s this prick?” Cedric asked unnecessarily loud. Most of the students had already left by that point, oblivious to the drama going on. Cedric’s question pulled the attention of everyone remaining in the room.

Shifting his gaze to Cedric, the young man scoffed. “Prick indeed. You’re not even worth my time, boy. Come find me once you’ve proven yourself, and you’ve dropped a pair.” The last was said with a pointed look for emphasis.

Realizing the insinuation, Cedric grinned, “Concerned, are we? You could check for yourself if you must, but I’ll warn you. I’d hate to give you some kind of complex.”

A look of revulsion crossed the older boy’s face. Peering past them to where Ronan sat. His face turned red with accusation. “You are here to learn, not indulge in perverted tendencies. You would do well to remember that.” He said before turning on his heel and stalking out of the room, pushing past the nosy on-lookers.

Quinten watched him go, feeling a mix of anger and confusion. Meeting Ronan’s eyes, he asked, “Who was that?” His tone carrying not an ounce of humor.

“A prick, I already told you,” Cedric interjected, but a glare from Quinten shut him up.

“That would be the future Duke of Wyndham. Oliver, the eldest son of Alistair Wyndham,” answered Ronan.

Quinten’s world froze. Cedric recognized it as well, his eyes growing wide as he looked between his friends.

“Of course it is.”

*****

The remainder of the day went better than their class with Instructor Ross. Quinten was uncertain why she had taken such a dislike to Cedric and himself, but the other instructors he met seemed only curious about the two students who’d tested into their classes.

Quinten was happy to see that the level of ability being shown by the second-years was much improved. While still not what he’d expected from the Academy, it was closer.

He continued to not show off his skills, nor take any creative license when accomplishing the tasks given by their instructors. Quinten was more interested in seeing how the older students went about completing each assignment. He ended up learning more on that first day than he had the entire first week with the first-years. It left him feeling a little better about his remaining time at the academy.

That evening, Quinten sat cross-legged in his room. He’d continued to practice the meditation exercises Instructor Burns introduced the previous week. Finding that it helped to settle his mind after a busy day, and at times even connect with his gift on a deeper level. It was only for the briefest of moments, but when it happened, he felt the buzzing energy all throughout his body. He believed that with continued use, it could become a feeling he was able to reach at will.

His trance was broken when a knock sounded at his door. Rising to his feet, Quinten stretched out his back and shoulders before pulling it open to find Izzy standing on the other side.

“May I come in?” She asked, her gaze and tone neutral.

Quinten stepped aside, nearly tripping as his mind raced, trying to come up with a reason for her being there.

Standing in the middle of his room, he saw her looking around, taking it in. He was glad he always kept his room fairly clean, and other than his outer robe thrown across the bed. Everything was in its place.

Tapping his Physical gift, he heard Izzy mumble. “—thought a true noble would have better rooms than ours…”

Stuck on the wrong side to sit on anything, he awkwardly leaned back against the door. Crossing his arms over his chest, he chose to put his mind at ease, asking, “Good evening, Izzy. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Without turning to face him, she said. “Burns told us you and Cedric will no longer be in our group.”

“He’s right…? “

“So, that’s it.”

“That’s what?” He asked, blinking rapidly before latching on to a thought, his brow furrowing. “Hold on, I thought you would be happy we’re gone. I received the distinct impression you did not like us.”

Shaking her head with a light scoff, she finally turned toward him. “You made us feel less then. How am I supposed to compete? Cedric is bad enough, but you… you are a monster in mage robes.”

“I’m—sorry?” Quinten grimaced, taken aback by her confession.

Shaking her head once more, she stared at the grey robe on his bed. “At least now, we won’t be compared to you two. Maybe I’ll even have a chance.”

Wiping away a tear, Quinten scrambled out of the way as she threw open the door, nearly running into Ronan on her way out. The two young men watched her walk quickly down the hall in silence.

“So…?” Ronan asked.

“I have no idea.” Quinten admitted, at a total loss for what had just happened.

“Okay… Do you know where Cedric is? I knocked on his door, but he didn’t answer.”

“Yea,” Quinten said, his eyes still out of focus while he replayed the last few minutes in his head. “Pretty sure he’s going to make himself into a snack.”

*****

Cedric had never been in the women’s dorm, but now that he’d advanced to second year. He knew it wasn’t likely that he’d be seeing Celeste in any future classes.

Q and Ronan had been very vocal that trying to woo Lady Celeste Sutherland would not turn out well. A lowly Baron pursuing a Duke’s daughter. But there was something about her that kept drawing his thoughts back to her, and he knew that if he never made the attempt, he would regret it.

Approaching the tall stone building, Cedric could appreciate the colorful stones and crystals used to adorn the female dorm. It was far more appealing than the drab stone of his own, and what, he suspected, this one originally matched.

Two young first-years exited, and he waved them to a stop, asking, “Excuse me, Do either of you know where I could find Mage Sutherland?”

They traded glances and held a whispered conversation. After a quick back and forth, one of them finally answered, “She’s on the first floor, third door on the right.” Thanking them, he moved past as they broke out in a hushed but furious discussion. They continued watching him until he passed through the door.

Putting them out of his mind, Cedric prepared himself mentally to enter the lion’s den.

Following their directions, he turned right and, after side stepping another white-robed girl who eyed him like a piece of meat, he made it to the prescribed door. Knocking, he stepped back until he nearly leaned on the wall across. Movement could be heard on the other side and making him unintentionally hold his breath, his palms starting to sweat.

The door opened, and Cedric was met with storm cloud grey eyes, framed by eyebrows a shade darker than the golden waves that fell past her shoulders. Her cupid’s bow lips lifted just a little at the corners when she recognized who stood before her.

“Mage Vaelmara, what brings you to my door at this time of night? Nothing nefarious, I hope. There are witnesses, you know.” Her words carried down the hallway and a moment later Cedric saw at least two doors crack open to listen.

“Mage Sutherland, or can I call your Celeste?” Cedric asked, keeping his tone as relaxed as he could.

She raised an eyebrow. “You know my name—I guess I’m not the only one looking into prospects this early in the year. Your mother is quite well known for her abilities.”

Gritting his teeth, Cedric let the comment slide off him, focusing on what was important. “For very different reasons, I’m sure. I’m not here to find a wife. Well, not really. I’m here to learn, which is why I’m at your door. I won’t be seeing you in Physical any longer.”

She leaned against the doorframe, looking up at him with interest. “You won’t, why not?” Fluttering her lashes, she asked. ”I may or may not have noticed you weren’t in today’s class.”

Shaking his head, Cedric had to stop himself from puffing up his chest in pride. “No, we tested out of our first year. The Headmistress is allowing us to advance to second.”

His news genuinely caught her off guard. The cool composure she’d been playfully hiding behind cracked just a little as her eyes grew wide. “I was not even aware you could test out of a year at the Academy. Why though? Doesn’t that mean you have to join the Core a year early?”

Nodding, Cedric admitted, “Yes, but that also means I’ll be finished a year sooner.”

Watching him with a twinkle in her eye, she asked, “You just moved up on my list, but you should know the competition is quite stiff. If he wasn’t a traitor’s son, your friend likely would have been on it too.”

Cedric winced internally, but met her gaze levelly. “I’d appreciate it if you did not call him that.”

Her eyebrow raised, but she gave him a slight nod. “Loyalty to your friends. That’s not something I expected to see at the Academy.”

“I’m not sure I could have expected anyone like you at the Academy.” Cedric’s words causing a twitch of one corner of her mouth.