It wasn’t hard to find the metrology lab, as they were off in their own little building right on the edge of the Arcanum. No classes were held here, no other students were rushing to get into lecture halls before the bell sounded; this was a working laboratory where real research was done every day. The kind of place in which she’d be sequestered her second year, once she decided on a specialty. She had a strong intimation that her specialty wouldn’t involve metrology.

The walls were stone, but the roof was single-story and flat, as if someone had sheared the top of the building without accounting for rainfall or snow. It appeared from the outside to be the cheapest possible building to construct out of cut stone, and it probably was. The size alone was more comparable to a large house than what she expected of an academic laboratory.

Willow knocked twice on the thin wooden door, but when no one answered she tripped the latch and let herself in.

The interior of the small building was surprisingly bright—inscripted magelights dotted the ceiling like a grid of stars. There were less than a dozen graduate students huddled over workbenches, and a group of three toward the back of the room talked amongst themselves. She had no idea where to go. One of the students at the back of the room turned around and she saw it was the young man from her evaluation, and he waved her over.

“Hi. I assume this is the right place for my test?”

“It’s the best place to be tested,” another young man said and held out his hand. “Daniel.”

“Willow,” she said, and shook. There was a woman in the group too, about Willow’s age, who also held out her hand.

“Steph,” she said. “I heard you killed the emmeter.”

“Emmeter,” Willow asked as she looked toward the student she’d already seen before.

“Burket,” he said, and shook her hand too, which was at this point becoming quite tender. “The device you were being tested with is can an emmeter, or essence meter, and it is broken now.”

“Oh,” Willow said, and a twist in her gut warned her of the possibility that she’d have to pay for it.

“It’s no problem, we’ve got loads of them,” Steph said, and waved it away. “I’m curious how in the seven hells you did it though. That was one of mine.”

“I told you already, she overloaded the injector,” Burket said, and motioned toward a small door in the back wall. He led the group and opened the door to a smaller room which was similarly lit with those shadowless magelights.

“Yeah, but that shouldn’t be—,” Daniel began, but Burket shot him a look.

“That’s what we’re here to find out. How? And also, what your real measurements are. You appear to be a bit of an anomaly. Very useful for debugging our instruments.”

“Oh great, it’s not like I didn’t feel weird enough,” Willow said as she stepped into the room. She hadn’t missed the other two’s glances at her neck and hands. Burket must have told them about her. About the way she looked.

“Don’t worry,” Steph said softly behind her. “Once we get you measured up, your probation will disappear.”

“Uh huh,” Willow said, unsure if Steph also knew about the stipulation that she had to produce an introductory spell. Or did the woman not even consider such a task worth mentioning.

“We’ve only got an hour and a half,” Burket said as he clapped his hands together. “Let’s get started, shall we? Willow, you can sit there, we’ll get the first test all set up.”

The seat he motioned to was padded on the bottom and back, and she wondered for a moment which of the three had seen fit to modify the plain wooden chair for her comfort. It made her feel vaguely confused as to her feelings about the graduate students. Did she trust them? Could she?

“We’re going to start with the emmeter again,” Daniel said as he brought out the familiar crystal spike. “But we’re going to place a rummeter between you and the device to measure the force it’s putting out to inject you with essence.”

“I thought you saw that on the first test,” Willow said to Burket as he was tapping on another crystal plate.

“I saw that the system was straining, but…” he trailed off.

“What?”

“It stopped displaying before it was able to inject,” he said, and she noticed he wouldn’t meet her eyes. What did that mean?

“Alright, the test’s all set up,” Burket said. Daniel had strapped a thin metal strip to the side of the crystal point. “Just place your palm on that strip and try to only push through the palm, if you can.”

“And that’s all, just the same as the test before?”

Daniel nodded. “Just the same.”

Willow placed her hand against the metal strip and wrapped her fingers around the cool crystal. The strip had been inlaid with a tight packing of engraved characters which she recognized from her introductory textbook on inscriptions. They would have essence flowing through them to produce an effect; in this case, measuring the essence flowing between her and the emmeter.

“I’m reading a lot of chatter,” Daniel said, staring down at his own crystal plate. Steph leaned forward and adjusted Willow’s fingers against the crystal, placing her palm more firmly against the metal strip.

“Now,” she asked.

“A little better, but the readings are still fuzzy,” Daniel said, and shrugged. “Should be good enough for a first go-around.”

“Alright Willow, you can push now.”

Willow closed her eyes and visualized her body’s essence as she had earlier that morning. It was diminished to her sight, partially from her failed spell, partially from the late hour. She suspected that her waning mental energy had something to do with her inability to access the essence that must still be there. She knew in theory that as long as she wasn’t casting, her body should be replenishing her essence. It never felt like that though.

She already felt exhausted somewhere inside, like she’d strained a muscle earlier that day from pushing so hard to not embarrass herself in class, so she pushed as if she were coddling an injured limb. Her essence responded sluggishly, like a viscous mucous rather than a flowing torrent. Others had described their essence flow like water—what she wouldn’t give to have that experience.

From her solar plexus down her arms to her hands. Out through the palms, she felt her essence flow then disappear, sucked greedily into the emmeter.

“You can start anytime,” Daniel said.

“I did,” Willow grunted. Sweat began to bead on her forehead.

“Registering em,” Burket said. “One milliem.”

“Just one milliem?” From Steph’s tone Willow felt a wave of embarrassment crash down upon her. She nearly lost focus on her essence. The metrologists were amazed, but she didn’t feel like it about something good.

“Just keep pushing,” Burket said.

“I am,” Willow said.

“I’m still not getting anything above the noise,” Daniel said, looked at Burket, then shrugged.

“That’s fine, we’ll get enough to move onto the second phase. That’s what we’re looking for anyway.”

Willow groaned, trying to tune out their voices and focus on moving her essence.

For five agonizing minutes she pushed, until Burket called a halt to that phase of the test. Willow had been pacing her breathing like a long distance runner, and finally she let herself gasp and lean back into the padded seat. She felt the silence in the room like a thick woolen blanket. She knew they were staring at her.

“I never got a—,” Daniel said.

“That’s fine,” Burket interrupted. “Are you ready to start the injection?”

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Willow opened her eyes, hand still on the emmeter. She felt grimy with sweat from her two big expenditures of the morning, and she wanted nothing more than to just go and have a bath, but she nodded nonetheless.

“Let’s get it over with.”

A knock came at the door. Burket’s eyebrows quirked up in puzzlement as Steph stepped across the small room. Strangely enough, Professor Brandeweiss was standing in the doorway when she opened it.

“Professor,” Willow asked.

“Ah, it appears as if I’ve found you. I had the hardest time tracking you down after class.”

“Oh. I had to come here, to metrology, for some additional testing.”

“Yes, I read all about it. Probation, a most unpleasant situation to find oneself in. Although I must stay many of my students find themselves there only after some form of shenanigans or mischief.”

It took an effort for Willow not to dip her head in shame, and the professor stepped into the small room. It was then she realized that five was quite too many people for the stuffy room.

“I wanted to come down to the lab to observe your testing after what happened in class.”

“Why,” Willow asked.

“Oh, just to slake my own curiosity. It’s not often that one of my demonstrations goes so awry.”

“I’m sorry,” Willow said, and at this she did bow her head in embarrassment.

“No matter,” Brandeweiss waved the comment away. “You were in the middle of testing, correct?”

“Yes, professor,” Burket said. “We were just about to start the injection phase of the emmeter test.”

“Wel inject away,” the professor said and leaned against the door, which freed up a few bare inches of space in the room. “I shall not interfere again.”

“Right,” Burket said, then cleared his throat. “Alright, I’m starting the injection now.”

Again, Willow felt a sensation akin to a light breeze against her hand, almost too little to notice. Steph moved to look over Daniel’s shoulder, but Burket was still focused on his own tablet. Brandeweiss was leaning against the door, looking at all four of them.

“I’m increasing the pressure,” Burket said, and she felt the light breeze turn into a gust. “Let me know if you become uncomfortable.”

“Okay,” she said. As if—she needed this test to stay in school, to keep from being expelled before her life as a mage even began. She’d sit there until it became unbearable.

The flow of essence became a push, then a prod, then a strong pressure. Steph’s eyes were wide as saucers and only growing as she watched Daniel’s plate. Daniel managed to keep a straight face but the blood has fled his skin, leaving his lips ashy and pale. Burket, perhaps because he had seen this once before, was focused entirely on his own plate. Brandeweiss continued to lean against the door as if in relaxation.

The pressure reached a crecendo, then Willow felt her old essence squirt back into her arm. That same feeling of inflation occurred, like her arm was being filled with water. She gritted her teeth through the discomfort and held on tight.

“And we’re… done. Done,” Burket said, and looked up at Daniel and Steph. Steph’s mouth was open and even Daniel hadn’t been able to hide the shock at what he’d seen.

“That’s not…,” Daniel whispered. Burket wedged his way between the other two to look at the plate, then wrote something down on a sheet.

Willow’s arm hummed with trapped power, unable to move, unable to return to her body. Her fingers twitched with the thrum and she finally unstuck her hand from the crystal to rub her knuckles. They were becoming tender again.

“What did it say,” Willow asked..

“One hundred and fifty runs,” Burket said. “So, we’ve finally got a number on you. And we broke another emmeter as well.”

“That’s not her attribute, and the device wasn’t designed for—,” Steph began, but the professor interrupted her.

“I think after her morning demonstration and this little test, Miss Willow has been quite worn out. And it appears as if she’s in no small amount of discomfort.”

For the first time the three students looked at Willow again sitting in her chair, rubbing her hand.

“How,” Steph began, then swallowed the question and shook her head.

“I’ll escort Miss Willow out, unless you have any other tests you need to run today?”

“N-no,” Burket said. “No, we have to… I think we have to get some different equipment.”

“Right, then follow me Miss Willow, and let’s see if we can’t find your next classroom.”

🜛

By the time Willow realized she didn’t know where her next class was, and the Professor probably wouldn’t either, they were already back in the main building, the injected power finally fading to a mere tick-y rumble in her arm.

“Um, Professor,” she said as she tried to keep pace with him. It was hard with her hobble. She really needed a cane. “I’m not quite sure where Introduction to Inscription is.”

“Probably over in the southeast quadrant,” he said, and they turned down a hall with what seemed like a hundred little doors along its sides.

“Oh, is that where we’re going?”

“No,” Professor Brandeweiss said, and stopped in front of a door which had his name painted on a small placard. He produced a metal key, turned the bolt, then ushered her in.

“After you.”

The professor’s office was small, much smaller than her own bedroom. It was just big enough for a chair and a desk built into the wall. Every surface was covered in yellow-tinted papers, some bound in twine, others loose piles. There was no window in the far wall of the room; only a tiny flickering magelight toward the ceiling provided illumination.

“Pardon me,” the professor said, and extended his hand upward toward the light. The sphere flickered once more, then grew brighter and steadier until it had the same intensity as Leopold’s in class.

“There, that should do it,” he said as he moved a pile of papers off of what turned out to be a second chair and motioned to it. Willow gratefully took the seat. “We don’t have inscripted lights in our offices, so we’re forced to make do with magelight. It may seem quaint to you, but the Arcanum can’t really afford to send people around to every office shunting essence.”

“No, not quaint at all,” Willow said. “Where I come from we still use oil lamps. There are a few in town who know enough to produce a small magelight, but most of the spellwork there has to do with stripping fungus from crops or mending furniture.”

“Bridgewater, I think your file said,” the Professor said, and tapped a sheaf of papers on his desk. Willow nodded.

“I’ve never been to your small town, but if its like many of the others around Durum it’ll primarily be agricultural?”

“Yes, that’s right, Professor.”

“Please, call me Carl. And I can see how you’re twitching. No, we won’t be going to your next class.”

“But,” Willow said, but the objection trailed off. She hadn’t really been that interested in inscriptions anyway, as they took a steady source of essence to function and she could barely put out a halting trickle as it was.

“You’re wondering why we’re in my office. The simple answer is that after our little mishap in class this morning I took a particular interest in you. After that result you got in the lab… well, let’s say my interest has grown.”

“What did happen in the lab,” Willow asked. “What’s a run?”

“You probably would have learned about that in the very class you’re missing now,” he said. “But no matter, I’ll elucidate you. In inscribing there are several attributes of essence that we are concerned with. One is the measure of resistance in the inscription itself. The more complicated the inscription, the higher the resistance. That resistance is measured in a unit called wam.

“The storage capacity of an inscription is also directly affected by how many storage containers are added to it. Those lights in the metrology department will run for a day before they need to be recharged. That capacity is measured in ems.

“And finally, the force with which essence is pushed through a system is measured in runs. All of these units were originally calibrated to a researcher’s natural essential attributes, such that one em is the general amount of essence a person can store in their bodies, one wam is the typical resistance between a user’s heart and their hand, and one run is the maximal force with which one can generally push their essence from their body.”

“So that device,” Willow said. “It was pushing essence into my body with the force of a hundred and fifty mages?”

“Mages generally have a higher run rating than researchers, but not much higher. Two I think is the highest I’ve ever heard measured, and yes, that is what it means. It might go a long way toward explaining why you’re reacting that way to the injected essence.”

Willow’s arm had mostly calmed down, but her fingers still twitched every few seconds. She closed her fist to try and force the muscles quiet.

“I assume that’s not common,” she asked.

“Correct. Humans have pretty low resistance to essence, which is what allows us to move it around in our bodies so freely. Magical creatures have much higher resistances as their magical effects are constantly engaged, disrupting the flow of essence like islands in a stream. There are some metals that can disrupt essence, but you wouldn’t have happened to applied a silver balm to your hands this morning, would you?”

Willow shook her head. “What does it mean, then?”

“Well, it explains why you had such a difficult time producing the magelight in class. You’ve never conjured the second layer?”

Willow looked down at her knees, then shook her head. No use lying, he’d already seen her test results.

“That you’re able to do even as much as you have is a testament to your will. If I’m not mistaken, the terms of your probation require you to produce a magelight or similar introductory spell by the end of two weeks, correct?”

“Yes,” Willow whispered. That task seemed all but impossible now. She’d thought before that she wasn’t practicing enough, even though she’d practiced hours every day back in Bridgewater. Or that her mental acuity wasn’t where it needed to be, or her essence control was weak. To learn there was something wrong with her—something else wrong with her—seemed to sap all of her drive. For all she knew it could be related to her wasted condition. How could she possibly work through that?

The professor nodded. “I will assist you in completing this task.”

“Oh, no. No, I couldn’t possibly— I’ve got a friend who’s going to help me. We’ll be practicing every—”

Brandeweiss held up a hand. “Do not reject my offer lightly. I’m talking about one-on-one tutoring from someone who’s helped many other students in similar straits as yours. I only require one thing in return.”

“And that is,” Willow asked.

Brandeweiss scratched his graying beard. “It would be most unusual for me to continue to intrude on your metrology readings. I’m sure those metrology students will overlook it this once, but if I’m to act as your tutor I would like your permission to sit in on your measurements. They’ll give me a better idea of what we’re working with.”

“Can’t you just read the reports after,” Willow asked. She didn’t particularly enjoy the idea of even more people learning just how much of a freak she was.

“I would rather see the tests as they’re performed,” he said.

Willow sighed. “I suppose that’s fine. Thank you, Professor.”

“Please,” he repeated. “Call me Carl.”