Well he’s a charmer, I thought dryly.
Having just annoyed one of the heirs to the kingdom of Jerar, I decided to move on to less provoking tactics. I safely negotiated my way through the rest of the mass and joined Alex at the front of the room.
In a long, layered, black silk robe, a large man stood conversing with his audience. I recognized him from the insignia on his sleeve.
“Is that Master Barclae?” Alex whispered awestruck.
I nodded. Master Barclae, or as his title commanded, “Master of the Academy,” was a handsome man with sharp features and a salt and pepper trimmed mustache that suited his face. He had started leading the Academy a year or two before Alex and I had been born. Many said it was because of him that Jerar’s last Candidacy had had such strong contenders.
I strained to hear what he was saying.
“—first two months will be spent exploring the fundamentals and identifying the faction you will choose to commit your studies to. The remainder will be spent learning the foundation of its magic.”
Someone mumbled a question.
The large man laughed coldly. “There is no such thing as ‘rest.’ If you want an easy career, you should have applied to one of the other schools our Crown sponsors. The School of Knighthood, perhaps, or maybe the Cavalry? The latter’s retention is so high I suspect they hang gum drops from its rafters.”
I glanced at my twin. There was nothing easy about either of the schools the master had mentioned.
Alex returned my anxious smile with one of his own. Too late to turn back now.
“Why are there only fifteen? Because fifteen is already too generous. Magic is hardly common enough to justify that number—the only reason we have that many is because the Crown demands at least fifteen new war mages each year to enter its company. At one point it was far higher, but it was a waste of resources and jeopardized the training of the few who deserved to be here. The Academy’s expectations are demanding, and it would be idiocy to train incompetents. It is a privilege we allow fifteen as it is. Do not waste my time with such nonsense.”
The students continued to pester the man with questions until he finally cleared his throat. “That is enough for tonight. It is late, and your official induction will be taking place tomorrow morning.” He snorted. “Try to save such senseless queries for your other masters.” Without bothering to wait for a response, the Master of the Academy exited the podium, disappearing through a corridor on my left.
Not one member of the audience moved. It was only a couple of minutes later when a frenzied manservant appeared that any of us broke free of the trance.
“Master Barclae will return in the morning,” the man squeaked. “If you haven’t done so already, please check in with Constable Barrius, our master staffer, in the east wing. He will assist with your placement.”
Almost immediately, the crowd dispersed. Most of the students set off in the same direction as Master Barclae while my twin and I followed a handful of others at the right. As we began to make our way down another long corridor, I struck up a conversation with a friendly-looking girl at the front.
“I guess I can see why my parents didn’t want us to choose the Academy.”
The girl glanced at me. “My older brother tried out a couple of years ago. He said it was only as hard as you make it…” She laughed. “Then again, Jeff was one of the first to resign, so maybe I shouldn’t be listening to a word my brother says.”
I grinned. “I’m Ryiah.’”
“Ella,” she told me with a dark hand outstretched.
“I’m here with my twin,” I told her. I pointed to my brother. He was too busy to notice, flirting shamelessly with a blonde girl behind us.
Oh Alex, I thought. Already?
“You two don’t look much alike,” she observed.
I shrugged.
“So where are you from?”
“A couple days east. Have you heard of Demsh’aa?”
Ella nodded, ebony locks falling across her hazel eyes. “My father usually visits the apothecary there whenever he passes through. He likes the sleep sachets and swears they are better than the ones he buys from the palace mages.”
“That’s our family store!” I exclaimed. “Alex made those. We didn’t get half as much business when it was my parents.” I smiled. “He’s always had a keen eye for those things. It was the biggest surprise when he said he wanted to be a healer.”
“Oh,” she paused, “are you planning on Restoration too then?”
“Combat.”
Ella laughed. “Aren’t we all.”
“What about you?”
“The same.” She made a flippant gesture with her hand. “My family lived at court for thirteen years before they finally gave up on me as a lady-in-waiting. I spent a year convincing them to let me try out for the School of Knighthood…but then I discovered my magic. So here I am instead.”
So Ella was highborn. It explained her accent. But she was also stubborn, and that made me like her. It would be nice to have a friend in the same faction.