Boots scraped stone as the crowd broke apart. Students drifted across the courtyard in loose clusters, voices rising and falling as they argued over projections and classifications.
Jace kept walking toward the archway. The satchel strap crossed his chest.
Cali glanced sideways at him while they walked.
“You’re quiet again.”
“I’m just thinking.”
They reached the archway.
A robed figure stepped into their path.
Not blocking with force. Positioned with intent.
They wore a gray robe. The Academy seal, stitched at the collar.
The assistant inclined his head toward Jace.
“Jace Lorrin.”
“Yes?” Jace responded, coming to a stop.
“The faculty requests your presence.”
Cali stepped forward before Jace answered.
“For what?”
The assistant kept his attention on Jace.
“Clarification regarding the pedestal.”
Cali’s jaw tightened.
“He already did the Trial.”
“The request is in accordance with the Trial.”
Jace adjusted the satchel strap slightly higher on his shoulder.
“Cali, it's fine. I will come with you.”
Cali moved closer.
“I’m coming too.”
The assistant lifted one hand toward the corridor behind him.
“Only the candidate is requested.”
Cali looked at Jace.
“You don’t have to—”
“I’ll go.” Jace said, giving Cali a single nod.
The assistant turned and walked toward the interior hall without waiting.
Jace followed.
Their footsteps echoed along the stone corridor.
The air inside the academy building felt cooler. Sound carried through the long passages. Voices from distant rooms drifted along the hall.
The assistant did not speak.
They passed two classrooms. Both stood empty. A pair of instructors walked in the opposite direction, robes brushing as they passed.
The assistant stopped before a wooden door marked with a carved academy sigil.
He knocked once and opened it.
“Jace Lorrin.”
He stepped aside.
Jace followed.
The chamber held a long stone table at its center. Narrow windows along the far wall allowed pale daylight to cross the floor in thin lines.
Three instructors waited.
Master Corven stood at the far end of the table. The parchment from the Trial rested in his hand.
To Corven’s right sat a man with ink on his fingers and sleeves rolled slightly above the wrist. Several glass vials rested beside him.
To the left stood a broader instructor with his arms folded.
Jace stepped forward.
The assistant closed the door behind him.
No one spoke.
Jace let his gaze pass across the floor.
Sigils carved beneath the table formed a ward circle.
Detection.
Corven watched him.
“Step forward, Jace.”
Jace approached the table and stopped across from the instructors.
Corven unfolded the parchment.
“Your Trial result.”
The parchment rustled as he turned it.
“Alchemy classification.”
Jace gave no emotion or reaction.
The instructor with ink-stained fingers leaned forward.
“Before the projection formed, the pedestal hesitated.”
Jace kept his hands relaxed at his sides.
“The current fluctuated.”
The broad instructor shifted his weight.
“The ward circle dimmed.”
Corven’s gaze held steady on Jace.
“Do you recall anything unusual when you touched the pedestal?”
Jace looked at the shallow basin carved into the stone table in front of him. The shape mirrored the pedestal.
“When I placed my hand upon the basin, it felt like a current moved through my arm.” Jace described.
Corven waited.
“That occurs for all candidates.”
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The ink-fingered instructor lifted a quill and tapped the parchment.
“For most candidates, the current stabilizes within one breath.”
He raised two fingers.
“Yours paused.”
Jace met his gaze.
“I was focused on maintaining contact.”
The instructor’s mouth curved slightly.
“Indeed.”
He reached beside the vials and lifted a small crystal sphere. Clear, no larger than an apple.
He placed it at the center of the table.
“Extend your hand.”
Jace stepped forward and rested his hand flat on the stone beside the sphere.
The crystal responded.
A faint light formed inside it.
The broad instructor leaned forward.
The light brightened.
Then dimmed.
If it fails—
The thought cut off as the light returned to steady illumination.
The ink-fingered instructor lowered his head closer to inspect it.
“Interesting, very interesting.”
Jace did not move.
Corven watched the crystal.
The light remained stable.
The instructor with the vials sat back.
“State your name.”
“Jace Lorrin.”
“What does your family do?”
“Trade work.”
“Have you had any formal alchemy training?”
“None at all.”
“Have you read any alchemical texts?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Where have you read these?”
“In the library, either in the newer sections or the old tomes.”
The instructor nodded once.
“What drew your attention to the discipline?”
Jace shifted his weight slightly.
“Structure.”
The broad instructor unfolded his arms.
“Explain.”
Jace kept his eyes level.
“Reactions repeat when the inputs stay the same.”
The ink-stained instructor tilted the crystal sphere slightly with one finger.
“You prefer systems you can measure.”
“Yes.”
Corven folded the parchment once.
“Did you feel discomfort when the pedestal reacted?”
“No.”
“Did you feel any heat?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Where did you feel the heat?”
“In the chest.” Jace laid his hand on his chest just over where he felt the heat.
“How intense was the heat?”
“It felt like I was under the covers. Was manageable.”
The broad instructor stepped away from the wall and circled the table.
Boots scraped softly against stone.
“You did not withdraw your hand.”
“I was instructed not to.”
“But, you could have.”
Jace watched him move.
“I saw no reason to do so.” He said with a shrug.
The instructor stopped at Jace’s side and studied his posture.
“You seem to remain calm under pressure.”
Jace answered without shifting.
“I prefer clarity.”
The ink-fingered instructor lifted the crystal sphere again.
He moved it closer to Jace’s hand.
The light inside pulsed faintly.
Dim.
Bright.
Dim.
Then it stabilized once more.
He lowered it back onto the stone.
“Your resonance pattern fluctuates.”
Jace remained silent.
Corven rested both hands on the table.
“Do you possess any artifacts? Any talismans? Or, any prepared mixtures?”
“No.”
Corven watched him for another moment.
“You carried a satchel during the Trial.”
“Yes.” Jace shifted the satchel on his shoulders.
“What does it contain?”
“Books and some notebooks.”
“What subjects?”
“The main one is alchemy.”
The broad instructor looked toward Corven.
“Search it.”
Jace slid the satchel off his shoulder and placed it on the table.
The broad instructor opened the flap and removed the contents one by one.
A notebook.
A small ink bottle.
Two folded sheets of parchment.
A thick leather-bound book.
Snake Bite.
The instructor turned it over.
His brow lowered.
“Poison.”
The ink-fingered instructor leaned forward.
“Let me see.”
The book passed across the table.
The instructor opened the cover and scanned the first page.
His eyes moved across the lines.
He closed it again.
“Looks like it contains technical work.”
The broad instructor looked at Jace.
“Have you studied this?”
“Yes, I have read it.”
“For what purpose?”
“Mainly for understanding.”
Corven looked toward the book.
“You believe poison belongs within alchemy.”
“In fact, I do,” Jace said flatly.
The ink-stained instructor nodded once.
“It does indeed.”
He tapped the cover with his finger.
“Refinement through reaction.”
He slid the book back across the table.
“Continue reading it, from what I was able to see, it holds a lot of useful information for your classification.”
The broad instructor returned the notebook and parchment to the satchel.
He paused before replacing the tome.
“You do understand how people view poison?”
“Yes, I feel they fear what they don't understand.”
“Why study it, then?”
“It is built on structure.”
The instructor watched him for another moment before closing the satchel.
Corven folded the parchment again.
No one spoke for several breaths.
Jace felt the heat beneath his sternum press once.
Contained.
The instructors exchanged a glance.
Corven stepped away from the table and walked along the ward circle carved into the floor.
Boots crossed the sigils without disturbing them.
He stopped opposite Jace.
“The pedestal did not fail.”
Jace listened.
“It hesitated.”
Corven looked toward the other instructors.
“A rare occurrence.”
The ink-fingered instructor nodded.
“Alignment variance.”
The broad instructor rested both hands on the back of his chair.
“Or sensitivity.”
Corven returned to the head of the table.
He placed the parchment down.
“Your classification will remain as Alchemy.”
Jace inclined his head.
“You will continue your studies.”
Corven lifted the parchment and folded it carefully.
“However.”
The word lingered in the room.
“We will observe your progress.”
Jace waited.
“You will attend standard instruction.”
Corven slid the parchment into a leather folder.
“You will report irregular reactions during training.”
The broad instructor looked directly at Jace.
“Immediately.”
Jace met his gaze.
“I will.”
The ink-fingered instructor pushed the crystal sphere back into a padded box beside the vials.
“We have no further questions.”
Corven gestured toward the door.
“You may leave.”
Jace lifted the satchel and placed the strap across his shoulder.
The ward circle remained faint beneath his boots.
He turned toward the door.
The assistant outside opened it as he approached.
Jace stepped into the corridor.
The door closed behind him.
The latch clicked.
Jace walked toward the archway leading back to the courtyard.
