When the last of the Initiates got their score, the overseer then gestured for the Initiates to follow.

  It was time for the second test.

  Quill and the rest of the group followed her as she led them out of the courtyard and into the main castle. Passing stone steps, the floor on Quill’s feet was now marble, with statues lining the halls and painted wooden beams staggering along the interior. It was very different from the expensive yet humble townhouse where Haref was staying.

  Quill was at the back of the crowd, ignoring the eyes and whispers the Initiates had on him. Some noble Initiates attempted to talk to him on the way, but he knew it was all for the sake of connections. They only wanted the power that came with befriending him, and he wasn't interested.

  As the group continued down the hallway, Quill couldn't help but stare at the old woman up front. It was what she had said earlier, calling him a talented mage.

  She couldn't have been any more wrong.

  Quill had always been mediocre throughout his entire life. He lost to many mages in the past, back when he was still human, fighting an uphill battle against mages with more talent and resources than he had. Even when he was on his deathbed, he lost to Pormor, his age only a quarter of his time as a lich.

  The only reason why the exam overseer had called him a talent before was solely because of the centuries of knowledge he’d acquired through hard-earned effort. To call his life of studying and practicing magic ‘talent’ was an insult. He was never born a mage–he molded himself into one.

  “Here.” The overseer stopped before turning and opening a room. The Initiates here had already been cut in half from the first test, and this next test will only cut more into their numbers. That was all the better, as Quill didn't really want to indulge any more conversations than he needed to.

  The Initiates entered the room for the written exam.

  Quill took his seat at the back, nodding to the overseer’s instructions before he was handed a pen and paper along with a piece of paper and a test booklet. Once the overseer started the time, he immediately started through the questions, and within an hour, he was able to finish and pass first.

  “He’s showing off again.” One of the noble Initiates at the front snickered. “What family is he from?”

  “I’m betting ten gold that all of his answers are wrong.” Another said.

  “Ten gold says he passed.”

  “Quiet.” The overseer stared at Quill before she then fished through his papers and wandered her eyes. A few seconds had passed before she then nodded. “I wasn't mistaken, then. The third test will start in the afternoon, but before then, you can do whatever you want. You passed.”

  A murmur of whispers then resounded over the front row. It was a mix of eyes overcome with jealousy, while one of the Initiates was grinning ear to ear from the prospect of earning a quick coin from the bet.

  Quill nodded before he passed the room and left the doors, catching the eyes of the wood elf and giant from earlier, stealing a glance at him behind. He closed the doors with a and on the other side, he then stopped. The overseer said that the third test wasn’t going to start until the afternoon, and so he resolved to go to the foodhall to pass the time.

  He retraced his steps through the hallways before he made his way out into the garden. He passed by Adept mages, and with a simple question, he was able to find the building. It was left from the castle entrance, perched among the greenery of maples, oaks, and shrubs.

  Quill hadn't noticed before in the crowd, but the academy grounds were massive.

  He followed a winding footpath, wrapping around the field of flowers before the shade of trees cooled his skin. The two suns were already climbing high over the sky, and the growing heat was gnawing at his stomach. The smell of food easily came to his nose as he continued down the path.

  He stared at the building right in front of him, a timber structure made from the same materials as Haref’s townhouse and the rest of Fen’s buildings. At once, he opened the doors, and to no surprise, the hall was largely empty. The chairs and tables housed a few Adept mages, but there didn't seem to be any other Initiates in the room.

  “You're awfully early, don't ya think?” A man was polishing a tankard behind the counter. He was a large, burly man with tattoos and piercings, along with a large, messy beard that framed his masculine face. “Cheer up, kid! You can always try again next year.”

  “You must be misunderstanding something.” Quill said.

  “You don't have to hide it.” The man said. “Better to accept the loss now and move forward, kid, don't ya agree?”

  “I’m not hiding anything.” Quill's eyes then wandered over to the back of the kitchen, finding bowls and plates and glasses flooded with meaty stews and cold drinks. He fished for his Holder before he then pulled silvers from it. “One of those, please.”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  The man continued to ramble on before Quill finally got his meal. He excused himself before he picked the table farthest from the entrance, finding the most secluded area in the foodhall. The Initiates weren't going to be coming any time soon, so he had the silence all to himself, and just when he dropped to the chair, the doors then opened.

  It was another Initiate, having finished with the written test. His brown curls and smooth face reminded Quill of a mix between a baby and a horse, and he wondered why those two things popped into his head the moment he saw him. Quill hadn't expected to have company in the foodhall so soon.

  As Quill worked through his meal, more and more Initiates came barreling through the doors. It only took an hour before the foodhall was full, but Quill found it irritating that he had no food left. Adding to the fact that he had no company with him, it almost seemed like he was just there taking up space. Rhena was also nowhere to be found.

  Quill drank the last of his tankard’s water before his eyes then met the gaze of the wood elf from his group. She was carrying a tray from the counter, but she didn't seem to have a table to sit on.

  Quill sighed before he raised his hand, inviting her to his table. It might do him good in the academy, though he had to wonder when he started growing comfortable with talking to people.

  It must be because of Yereth and Rhena.

  “Thank you so much!” The woman bowed, her short cloak almost spilling to the table before she sat opposite him. She was carrying with her a wooden bow and quiver.

  “You’re the wood elf.” Quill found himself staring at her horns. He’d never seen a wood elf this close before, but the wooden horns on her forehead really looked like real, living branches.

  “That’s right.” The woman said. “I’m Narrah. I’m from the Southern Forest, though you can probably tell from my accent.”

  “I’m… Fenith.” Quill said. “You're a long way from home.”

  Just then, Quill’s eyes drifted to the giant standing at the very center of the foodhall. It was hard not to notice a giant standing alone in the bustling crowd. He was carrying a platter of food on him, and he also didn't seem to have a table to sit on.

  Quill sighed again before raising his hand, gesturing the giant to his table. At this point, it was as if he were starting an orphanage for the group outcasts.

  “I’m sorry for the trouble.” The giant sat right beside him, the bench creaking under the weight of his body. The enormous shield on his back didn't do him any favors, and his braided hair almost grazed the floor below.

  “You seem awfully timid for your kind.” Quill found himself staring at the marks and inks on the blue giant’s skin. All the giants he met before had different skin colors depending on the tribe they came from, and almost all of them had tattoos that signified achievements.

  “It must be so hard for a giant to live here.” Narrah gestured her hand as if signifying the giant's height.

  “I can manage, really.” The giant said. “I’ve already grown used to it.”

  “You look strong.” Quill said. “I’m Fenith.”

  “Thank you. I’m… Rognor the Dog.”

  The culture of the giants required them to carry nicknames with the coming of their adulthood, and it was customary for them to carry names of ferocious beasts depending on the feats they acquired in battle. It was strange at the very least for Rognor to have the name ‘Dog’.

  Narrah then asked about his tattoos. Rognor recounted the battles he fought for his tribe, though he didn't seem all that excited to revel in his glory. He only had two line marks on his arm, signifying that he had acquired two noteworthy achievements in his life.

  He said that one mark was granted to him when he killed his first Magic Beast, and the other was when he saved the life of his friend in an ongoing conflict with another tribe. In both instances, he was at death’s door, and he had to be healed by the tribe's mages. Rognor was an interesting giant, to say the least.

  “You said you came from the Southern Forest.” Quill turned to Narrah. “There were many of your kind earlier.”

  “That’s right...” Narrah said. “I came here with my friends, but most of them failed.”

  It wasn't that surprising. Wood elves were known for their peaceful nature, and without much conflict, the drive to grow stronger faded with it. The wood elves must've come with the expectations that they would handle the academy examinations well enough, but the truth was harsher. Not everyone can become a mage.

  If Quill remembered correctly, Narrah also had a measurement that was already close to failing. A rating of ‘fifty’ was the cutoff, and anyone below that would be rejected from continuing the examination. It was a miracle in itself that she was able to pass the first two tests at all, and Quill was adamant she would be able to pass the next ones.

  As the three continued to talk around the table, talking and sharing their history before the academy, a figure then loomed over Quill's distant vision. His heart then skipped a beat. It couldn't have been possible, but she was right there.

  It was the golden elf. Quill lied to himself that maybe it wasn't her, or maybe he was just seeing things, but he wasn't stupid enough to fall for his own deception. The scar on her neck proved him otherwise.

  She was really alive.

  And she was staring right back at him, finding him among the crowd. The Meldhide Cloak wasn’t enough this time.

  Quill didn't dare look away. If he did, the woman might disappear within the foodhall before running to the City Watch. He was already halfway through the examination, and he just needed a few more hours before he could carry the name of the Circle. If that woman were to sabotage him now, all of his efforts would go to waste, and he couldn't let that happen. Not now when he was so close. Not now.

  At that thought, it was strange then that the golden elf was starting towards him. Was she going to settle their fight now? Was she really going to cause a scene in the foodhall? She couldn't do that. She knows she can’t. If Quill had to think, she was here for the same thing: to enter the academy, and any conflicts inside here were grounds for elimination.

  The questions churned inside Quill’s head, his ears ringing to static, before she then stood right in front of him. She then brushed over her scar before glaring right at him. “My mouth is shut.”

  With only those words, she turned around and left just as fast as she came.

  Thanks for reading!