A pronounced 'donk!' resounded around the empty training hall.

"Urrgh! My brain feels like it's fallen into the Elemental Plane of Magma." Gwen slumped against the table.

In front of her, spread across the entire two-meter pane, sat a chaotic spread of pamphlets, a dozen course guides, and an old Vid-Cast projector with a collection of Capture Crystals on the history of the Universities in Shanghai.

Her frontal lobe throbbed. Maybe it was her over sensitive Divination senses, but every time she tried to map out her next three to four years, she felt a tingling chill shooting up her spine. A warning sign, sure, Gwen pondered. But there was a reward in risk, right?

After sifting through a dozen combinations of various courses at various Universities, Gwen envisioned herself banging her head against the wall repeatedly.
Whatever her Master's plans had been, the circumstances in China were too different to adhere to her original five-year road map.

In Australia, when senior students completed the High School Course and received their Australian Tertiary Academic Rank, they were typically faced with four to five choices jointly distributed around an aggregate score.

In new Sydney, where Mermen still lurked in the flooded sewers, the percentile band required for entrance into the top universities were for ranked students and those with the connections. Under Henry's tutelage, She had never doubted her place at the table of the elites. For this reason, the concept of course selections had not occurred to Gwen because Henry had known better than herself what course would suit her talent, and there wasn't much for choice in the Frontier.

In a second-tier city, tertiary Spellcraft essentially ran barebones Advanced Spellcraft for Mages interested in Arcane theory and the creation of Signature spells, offering training for Incantations between tier 4 - 7. More militant minded Mages could furthermore partake in the Combat Mage curriculum, a university staple, taken in conjunction with Mandatory Military Service, offering Spellcraft training for Mages seeking permanent employment with the Frontier Military. Outside of the academic courses, there were offshoots, sub-schools, specialisations in Schools of Magic, but in so far as coursework was concerned, that was the gist of it.

Lesser Colleges attached to the Universities catered only for career specialists such as Spellcraft Engineering, a course for Abjurers and Transmuters seeking to enter the construction, civil architecture and Shielding development. Likewise, "apprenticeships" offers those with talent the instruction to create Magic Items. Rarer courses like Mechatronics and Artifice are taken under state-sanctioned Masters.

Finally, a student had to complete "general" coursework as part of the Mage's Spellcraft training. These courses accepted both Mages and NoMs, offering a selection of core skills such as accounting, leadership, appraisal, creature husbandry, agriculture, geography and more frivolous content such as literature, music, and the arts. NoM-related content was taught not by the Universities themselves but by individuals attached to universities such as the Apothecarum in Sydney University.

But— as the wise, Plane-hopping young Dorothy Gale once said to Toto, 'We're not in Kansas anymore.'

The choices that now assailed Gwen was the enviable matter of choosing a University and selecting a course tailored to the nation's "elites". Unlike the highly censored coursework of the Frontier, taught on a need-to-know basis, a first-tier city's Universities provided far more nuance.

Thus far into her mind-boggling research, Gwen only managed to figure out the general scope of what lay ahead.

"First-Year" was a general induction course featuring six mandatory Spellcraft topics and two General study subjects, based upon recommendations made by a senior advisor.

Second-year students were required to pick specialisations in their Schools of Magic and engage in specific fields of study. A Transmuter, for instance, could select Advanced Construction in Material Science. An Evoker could choose Energy Manipulation and Spell Shaping, and an Illusionist would choose Media and Communication or Intermediate Illusions, and so on.

In their third year, students gained the opportunity to study under Magisters or renowned Specialists in their field. Typically, this was when students began to make a name for themselves, take on "apprenticeships", register Signature Spells, compose research papers on arcane lore, discover new species of Magical Creatures or document novel ways to kill and harvest existing ones.

Post Graduate courses were also available to students wishing to stay with the faculty and engage in research, with results judged by the University and the Academic Board, ultimately receiving a stipend for contributions to Advancing Spellcraft. Petra had stated that her Path lay in this direction, wishing to become a scholar of the arcane arts instead of serving in the Military or inundating herself with Tower politics.

Additionally, Gwen finally understood the significance of the title of Meister.

A Meister was a "Magister", but not all Magisters could become a Meister. It was because a Meister was a Mage that had contributed significant advancement to Spellcraft and whose work benefited all of Magedom.

Claude Van Saint, the famous healer who pioneered modern magical medicine, is a Meister. Philo R. Farnsworth, the man responsible for proving that Illusions may exist as a form of media stored in Capture Crystal, is a Meister. As powerful as her Master had been, he was still an administrator, a Combat Mage, and a war hero, but not a Meister.

Sifting through the mountain of materials, Gwen likewise cleared up the misnomers she had acquired while on the Frontier.

Neophytes and Acolytes, which she thought were titles, were the colloquial names for beginner Mages. Meanwhile, the moniker of Mage, or Senior Mage, referred to those with mastery over at least one School of Magic, meaning access to spells over tier 4.

A "Magus" was someone who has gained multiple Schools of Magic through talent or laborious study in Australia. To be called a Magus in public, the Mage must undergo examination within a Tower in the academic world and achieve public recognition.

Finally, a "Magister" was a peer-reviewed, publically sanctioned arcanist. Unlike the moniker of Magus, Magister was a title that comes with the weight of public service and responsibility of upholding the Tower's interest.

For this reason, Mages more interested in academic research or consolidation of arcane might prefer to forgo the title of Magister or Meister to live free from the accountability conferred by the recognition. Many Mages from the old Clans chose this Path of subtlety, with few achieving enough cognisance to choose public service.

As for Gwen's preference of Universities, there was the choice of Jian Tong, Fudan, Shanghai U, Dong Hua, and the militant-minded Shanghai Maritime.

Of the "Great Four", Jian Tong and Fudan were the most academically inclined.

"The Mid-Term intake is in early May, which is three weeks away," her babulya informed Gwen and Richard after the family gathered for morning tea. "Both of you have commendations from Magus Shultz, courtesy of the Pudong Tower, so making the shortlist shouldn't be an issue. May I assume you will be joining Fudan? I mean, there are only two C9 Universities in Shanghai, and Fudan is the superior one considering that you are both Expats. Jian Tong may be the more prestigious of the two, but only if you intend to work with the PLA."

"So, Fudan," Gwen masticated the name thoughtfully. "Petra is there, right?"

"She is." Babulya nodded. "It is also my old college."

"But Jian Tong offers two teams for the International University Competition, and Fudan only has one," Gwen voiced her dilemma.

To carry out what she and Gunther had planned, Gwen, and preferably Richard, absolutely needed to qualify for the University team by Second Year. The Competition took place in the second semester and could take up to four months, from August to December.

Thinking of their final objective, Gwen felt an inkling as to why her babulya was pushing for Fudan so forcibly. Assuming Gunther had already told her of their aim, her babulya likely felt that if Gwen and Richard were to "inevitably" distinguish themselves, they might as well do so under the auspice of her alumni. That way, her grandmother could benefit her network and look over the children's shoulders, killing two Rocs with one Catapult. When framed as such, babulya's desire made sense, for a University's networks are fundamentally why elite institutions existed. Like her peers, Klavdiya maintained a web of 'Guanxi', extensively nurtured over four decades, and it was precisely one of these favours that had overruled her husband in keeping Gwen illicitly within the holding — thus allowing Jun free passage to retrieve her granddaughter.

"How about you, Richard? What do you want to do?" Klavdiya turned to Richard, seeing that Gwen remained undecided.

"Whatever she wants," Richard spoke without hesitation. "That or something complementary, but we need to be in the same university, if possible. That includes the General Courses as well, I suppose."

"How many General Courses do we have to take?" Gwen asked.

"Two per year, and you can choose to do higher ones if you pass the prerequisites."

"I see." Gwen considered the exponential volume of options opening up before her, looking to the older Richard. "Are the General Courses worthwhile?"

"Don't look down on the non-magical courses Gwen, it may sound strange, but it is the General Courses that make the C9 Universities so valuable." It was her babulya who answered her.

"How so?"

"How else are you going to learn about Civics, Oratory, Arts, History and Politics?" Her babulya laughed. "You can inherit talent, you can hoard arcane secrets, you can hunt down rare ingredients, but if you want to have your Tower, then you'd better take some Leadership and Governance courses! You can't even trade CCs for such knowledge, even if your instructors are Non-Magical citizens."

"I see." Gwen understood her grandmother's point. It was inevitable that those Mage who graduated from an elite university would one day become the ruling tier of the city.

"It's true," Richard went on to explain that to qualify for the possession of a demesne in the Frontier, one must complete a post-graduate course in good governance. Having NoM instructors at the university further offered students who had grown up around Mages to gain the perspective necessary to recognise life skills outside of Spellcraft.

"Are there courses for Economics?" Gwen asked out of curiosity. She already possessed a Master's degree in International Business and an MBA to boot. Maybe it was finally time she could tap into the privilege of prior knowledge?

"Of course!" Richard laughed. "Accounting, Appraisal, Corporate Law."

"What about Finance?"

"Sure, it's somewhere in there."

"Management?"

"Naturally," Richard pointed to one of the course booklets Gwen had flipped through. "Thinking of starting your demesne already, are you?"

"Babulya." Gwen turned to her grandmother. "What do I do to become an MBA?"

"It's called A-B-M, dear," babulya corrected her kindly. "It's a particularly challenging selection of Subjects and typically reserved for the best and the brightest. If you're interested, I can probably put a line through to the Faculty head of the department."

Excellent! Gwen speculated upon the prospect of enrolling in a course for Administration of Business and Management. She could probably ace it with distinction without breaking a sweat, so long as she could translate her knowledge over to this world.

"How difficult is it?" Gwen caught the tail end of babulya's affecting speech. The ABM course was probably challenging because students in this world had little contact with finance, economics, and corporations' management.

"Very." Her babulya's kind face regarded her protege profoundly. "If you wish to match your legendary brother-in-craft, or even the self-taught Ms De Botton, specialising in Aerial Combat is a foregone conclusion!"

"A—aerial combat?" Gwen stammered, realising that there must have been a missing link in their game of Chinese whispers.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Aerial Battle Mage," Richard added helpfully. "It's the most promising tier of proficiency the Arcana Curriculum. The booklet says that the course is joint-taught by instructors from the Tower, the PLA. The coursework comes with everything, dogfighting, passive incantation, mana conservation, spatial training. I think we ought to take it! Good choice, Gwen."

"…" These crazy battle Mages! Gwen bit her lower lip awkwardly. "Of course, I wouldn't dream of skipping it."
Now with the misunderstanding clarified, Gwen persisted in her suit.

"Is there a course for Business Marketing and Consultancy?"

Richard and Klavdiya meet one another's eyes. Why such interest in the General Course?

"Gwen, is this one of your 'NoM and Mages are of equal dignity' tangents?" Richard wrongly realised where Gwen was heading with her enquiry. "I know you're unusually sympathetic to them, but let's not get sidetracked from your Spellcraft education."

"Business is for the NoMs, Gwen." Babulya's face took on a slight worry as well. "As well as this 'Finance'. A Magister can level towns and raise mountains. A Magi can reduce entire civilisations to ash. What good could be served by hoarding Crystals and currency? Magical currency should be immediately converted to power to enhance one's mettle. Once you become a sanctioned Magus, earthly wealth becomes trivial. I mean, have you ever heard of an impoverished Magus or Magister?"

"Doesn't more capital mean I can purchase more items for training?" Gwen herself was a woman of two thousand HDMs, after all, though she would be happier if that number could grow by a few digits. "Making a high turnover is not unthinkable. We can invest in a product, improve its packaging, cut baseline costs by streamlining its production stream, and profit from targeted redistribution."

Richard laughed out loud. "If you have time for that, you may as well foray into the Wildlands, train, or learn new spells!"

"Well, I am sorry for wanting a steady fount of resources." Gwen's voice took an apprehensive tone. What was wrong with a little golden-fingered commerce? Wouldn't it be nice if she had a full complement of Magical Items? Or unlimited Crystals with which to purchase property and skills? Were her old skills that untranslatable? Hell, she could organise an Alchemist's alliance, reduce costs through volume and scale. Then, she could repackage and brand 'Ye Old Healing Injector' into a selfsame 'Restoration Elixir Plus', distribute it for sale after getting accredited 'branding' from the Tower.

In time, they could get a spokesperson, a famous Magister or Meister, and have them 'promote' the product in return for favours or resources. There were a dozen ways Gwen could bullpen the market in a world as blind to commerce as the Mage-world.

"Richard's right," Klavdiya disapproved of her money-making scheme. "Gwen, if you wish to progress down the Path of Spellcraft, you require resource and instruction. Resource, however much of it you possess, is a limited affair. Think of all the Clans and their treasure vaults filled with Crystals and items. Barring Mythic level artefacts, do you think having access to a rare diet and austere facilities made a significant difference when you and Richard stripped them of their Crystals and CCs in the Dungeon?"

"I guess not," Gwen confessed.

"Crystals, items, wealth- these things are material, and therefore they become immaterial," babulya intoned with sagacity. "In the end, your greatest investment is yourself. For a Mage, there is only one finite resource."

Gwen hazarded a guess.

"Life?"

"Time!" Klavdiya spoke with intensity. "Your youth can't be wasted making HDMs!"

"I see." Gwen surveyed the small hill of potential courses, each containing invaluable knowledge. How grand would it be if she could acquire the lion's share of arcane lore contained therein? How limitless and daunting would her potential then be? But there was no mitigating counter to the tyranny of time, whose leaden hands turned without mercy. "I guess, for knowledge, there isn't enough time in the world."

"That's correct," her babulya continued. "First, you have only three years to carry out whatever plan Lord Shultz and yourself have agreed. Assuming you and Richard achieve what you set out to do, you will have an even more limited window of time to mark your place in the world. By then, you will have progressed well past the point of return on the Path of Asura, eternally demanding more power and influence."

"And with every challenge bested, you'll need longer spears to beat up ever bigger tigers," Richard interjected with an NoM proverb. "Sound's rather depressing, doesn't it? We've ridden so far already, Gwe—no point pausing for breath now!"

Gwen noted with a shiver that her family inferred was a Path of no return, a Path of Asura without cessation. What would the end even entail? She would wager the end did not involve a bay view bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows.

"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past," Gwen recited sentimentally. "Sailing toward a blood-dimmed horizon where the sun never sets, we are all stuck on this rickety raft."

While the others looked on, she forced herself to smile, dispelling the sudden feeling of depression she felt for the unending toil ahead. A success today meant only a taller hurdle the next day.

"It's not all doom and gloom." Richard reached out and touched her hand. "Didn't you meet Elvia and Yue along the way? You met me, right? You found Babulya too, ain't she the sweetest lady you have ever met?"

"Why, thank you, Richard." Babulya gave her cousin a heartfelt smile.

"I merely speak the truth, Babulya," Richard replied seriously. "Gwen has not had a cordial relationship with family, and that's putting it mildly. My father, her mother, even Uncle Hai. Gwen has been alone for so long that I have no idea how she does it."

The Gwen that Richard knew hadn't "done it," Gwen felt a pang of guilt in her chest as Richard sought to butter her ego.

"Richard's right, Babulya." Gwen left her seat to walk behind her diminutive grandmother. She reached out with both arms and embraced her from behind, pressing her face against Klavdiya's flaxen hair. "Thank you."
Klavdiya held Gwen's slender arms around her, then kissed Gwen's fingers as they brushed her lips.

"I am happy that you're here." Klavdiya's response warmed her heavy heart.

The two women touchingly held one another, sharing the moment of filial intimacy with a palpable aura of sentimentality.

"So, Fudan?" Klavdiya inquired gingerly, her eyes moving toward Richard's, whose eyes twinkled with complete and utter innocence.

"Fudan," Gwen decided, her voice full of conviction.

"Fudan indeed," her cousin repeated after her, grinning like a shot fox.

In the West, the saying went that where there's an individual with enough will, there's a Path. In the East, the equivalent was where there are people, there was Guanxi, and therefore a "way". For Klavdiya, the well-oiled mechanism of her network moved into motion the moment Gwen had decided upon Fudan.

Within hours, two Applications appeared on the desk of the Dean that very afternoon, together with a commendation from the Pudong Tower for the two Students and a reference from the Director of the PLA Second Army Hospital. A private letter was also attached, which Luo Jiang opened carefully, revealing the impeccable handwriting of a woman to whom he felt great admiration. Years ago, Luo's mother had fallen ill and required a rare, seventh-tier Dragon-Newt Logan to prolong her life. Luo had drawn upon every resource to find the unique ingredient to no avail until an old alumna had heard of his plight and acquired a piece of the fruit from her laboratory. That was Klavdiya Song, and though Luo's mother still passed, her passing was peaceful and happy, not filled with the agony of dementia and disease.

Usually, Luo ignored "backdoor" applications that watered-down Fudan's elite cohort. As the Dean, Luo did have an ethical duty to uphold toward the university in defending its academic authority. If Luo was at the end of his tenure, he might have considered such a thing to gain favour, but he was only a few years into his position and felt no desire for his legacy to end as an ousted, corrupt official.

However, as he owed Klavdiya a favour, the Dean carefully picked up one of the applications against his better instincts. On the cover, the attached photo was a Eurasian youth who looked a little older than the usual applicants, maybe a returnee from Military Service.
"Hmm…"
Luo's eyes scanned the lines.
He raised a brow in delight.
A Praetorian at Prince's?
He sat up in his chair.
Tier 5 Conjurer, tier 1 Abjurer. Nineteen?!
Luo blinked. His eyes moved past the biometrics and turned to the talent section.

T-Tier 8 WATER.

"Wocao!" he exclaimed with a spray of spittle. "Mao's Stars!"

"Sir? Are you alright?" A female face ducked into the doorway. Luo professed to have an 'open-door policy, though no students dared to see the Dean without a prior appointment. "Did you ruin your meditation again?"

"It's nothing, Ellen. How're the reports coming along?"

"I am working on them!" returned the catty voice from the reception, its owner visible by the reflection on the polished floor.

"Alright." Luo turned back to the application. "Keep hammering."

Tier 8? That's impossible. Luo felt that there must have been a typo somewhere.

He kept reading and found solace in the appendix that Richard Huang was contracted to a high-tier Spirit. Red Stars, Luo thought to himself. The luck of this kid. The Dean himself was almost fifty, a Magister, at the top of his game, and even so, he only had a sapient mid-tier Air Sprite. He continued reading the documentation, and when he'd finished, he had to tap the table contemplatively to digest the tingling sensation in his chest.

This application wasn't a favour for him to give. It was a favour granted to Luo! Even with the field of students Fudan currently possessed, someone with such stacked talent was impossible to ignore. He would still have to meet the young man, naturally, then put him through the wringer and see his abilities tested, but already he felt that there was little chance he could be disappointed.

Holding the application, he now felt less antagonistic to this 'favour' he had to grant, and so he glanced over at the second application.

A girl of almost seventeen, uncommonly pretty and of questionable ethnicity.

Luo pursed his lips. The girl might be pleasing to the eye, but there was no making up for talent. His secretary, Ellen, was such an exhibit. The name on the application read 'Gwen Song', not a first name that he recognised anywhere, but the last name was very much intriguing. Was she another member of Klavdiya's House? Luo pondered the last time he'd approved an application for Mrs Song, wife to the MSS Secretary of Confidential Communications, Director of the Second PLA Hospital. That had been the Mineral Enchanter, Petra Kuznetsov, a rare talent from whom Fudan greatly benefited. When he'd last spoke with Magister Wen, she'd informed him that she and her apprentice were already making substantial progress on the use of Spell Cubes and were ready to release an academic paper on the matter in the next six months.

"Alright, let's see what you got." Luo opened the application and scanned the girl's biometrics.

What and where the hell is Blackwattle? Luo found himself thinking. She's from Sydney, Australia? Is she a refugee? His brows knitted in consternation. There was nothing impressionable in her academic transcript at all. Her academic transcript was negligible, non-existent.

Luo thumbed the application, and that was when he realised that the form he was holding was several times thicker than what he had anticipated.

With an ominous feeling in his chest, he turned the cover page.

A blistering array of improbable numbers and statistics assailed his eyes.

"W-WOCAO!" Luo couldn't help but vociferate a burst of unbidden disbelief. His hands shook, his knees knocked. He almost ripped one of the pages from the application form.

"SIR? ARE YOU OKAY?" Ellen's elfin face ducked into the corridor again. "Did you get tea onto your pants? Or spill the ink bottle again? Should I get the cleaner to Pristigitate your pants?"

"I AM FINE!" Luo walked to the door and slammed it shut.

He returned to his table and held the application like a man who'd inadvertently found a Dungeon Core in the middle of a salt marsh.
Lightning at tier 4?
Elemental Void at tier 4?
VOID MAGIC! Luo wanted to leap from the table and perform a little jig. Seeing that Ellen wasn't watching, he did precisely that.

A Neophyte gifted with Void talent in the wild! Luo could barely contain himself. As the Dean of a C9 University, he had to fight for talent with the other universities. Despite existing as one of the top academic existences in China, Fudan regularly lost some of the best and the brightest to Jingyen, Beijing University, and even Jian Tong here in Shanghai. Those were the Big Three, the CCP sponsored academies with deep roots in the PLA, the dynastic Houses, and the venerable Clans.

When a uniquely talented individual appeared in the wild, the university scouts would be following them for years, offering incentives, help, and even tuition just so that the student would choose to join their institution.

But who's laughing now! Luo rejoiced. Fudan would be the first to produce a Void Magus! MAO! Just thinking about the prospect of such a thing sent his spine to tingling.

When was the last time there was a Void Mage of note? Elizabeth Sobel? She was a Commonwealth Battle-Magus, one who had met a sticky end, consumed by her talent, or so they say. But unlike the 70s, the theory-craft of the Elements, the Sigils and the Planes, had advanced leaps and bounds. They knew at least what the Void was now, how to counter its effects, anticipate, and how it affected the caster. This Gwen Song would be in good hands. He could place her with Magister Wen, or perhaps Magister Gongsun; hell, why not both? They would jump at the chance to see Void in action.

Then there was Lightning as well! What a bargain!

When he finally caught himself, Luo realised that he'd become so enamoured with the idea of the university coming to training a Void Mage that he'd neglected a crucial fact: this Gwen Song possessed TWIN elements and oppositional ones at that.

Where did Klavdiya dig up her granddaughter? Luo couldn't help but feel awed all over again. What the hell did they feed her in Australia?

Included with the Spellcraft statistics was another supplement that explained the rationale behind Gwen's twin elements, along with a request for secrecy. Luo finished reading the beautifully scripted handwriting and had to agree; if someone knew that one could potentially create Mages with two elements by impregnating the host with twins and then inducing one twin to consume the other—the outcome would be monstrous.

Luo shuddered. With a simple chant, the attached note turned to cinders.

Luo was more than happy to leave the shouldering of this secret to Klavdiya. It was best for all that Gwen Song remained a freakish product of the strange arithmetic of chance.
He continued to read.
Conjuration appeared to be the mainstay of the girl's ability, but the girl had terribly few Spells to note, barely a dozen.
Beneath the data on Gwen's Conjuration was a description and image of her Familiars. TWO familiars, Luo noted. The first was an ordinary beast, a run of the mill Lightning marten. The other was an indescribable thing that consumed the living to nourish its host, a shapeshifter.

Luo lowered the application and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had very quickly developed resistance against the string of surprises.

He read on.

"WO-WOCAO!" Luo slammed the table and swore out loud.

"Sir? Are you alright?" Ellen's voice peeped from behind the oaken door.

Evocation at tier 3?
Transmutation at tier 1?
Abjuration?
D-Divination?

What manner of destiny manifest had Klavdiya pushed onto him? Could he even bear the burden of carrying Gwen's monstrous existence to term? What if the junior Song became less of a power they created and more like a force they unleashed?

Though worried, Luo reminded himself that he was an educator. He was the Dean of Fudan! If there was one motto that was universal to all the Arcane Universities of the world, it was that they dreamt of bringing forth a Caster who could change the status quo, break the stalemate, expand the domain of Man beyond their meagre enclaves.

"Ellen, come here," he called for his secretary.,
There was no reply.

"ELLEN! COME HERE!" he shouted at the door.
The oaken door opened, and Ellen stalked through the threshold on stiletto heels, tightly wrapped in a white blouse and grey pencil skirt.

"Yes, Jiang?" Ellen tiled her china doll face, her expression uncanny and blithe. "You called?"

"Send these two Applications down to the Registrar and tell Han to put them in with the Mid-Semester Scholarships."

"Sir?"

Luo incanted a short glyph over the manila envelope, sealing it so that the intended recipient could only read the letter.

"Take this to him personally, and tell him to shortlist these applicants. Go. Do it now. Don't let anyone see you."

"Yes, Master." Ellen took the envelope and held it close to her chest. In the next second, she became as indistinct as air, transforming into a wisp of wind.

Luo walked back to his desk, his heart still pounding as he felt the weight of the application, amazed that a dozen sheets of paper could weigh as much as the world.


Gwen remained in her room and engaged in mana mediation until an NoM servant knocked on her door.

"Ms Gwen, there's a man outside who says he's here to see you and Mr Richard."

"I'll be out in a minute."

Gwen had been expecting the house call since babulya had stated that Magister Luo, the Dean of Fudan, requested an interview at their earliest convenience.

Having received a hint from her grandmother that Magister Luo had an eye for the aesthetic, Gwen elected to plan her outfit meticulously. From the top, she piled her hair until it coiled into a messy bun, showing off her slender neck and dignified shoulders, leaving enough of a fringe to frame her face in a feminine manner. For her outfit, she settled upon an antique-white, elbow length blouse from Singapore, with a tailored allowance for her bust and a tightly tapered waistline, showing off her sharp collarbones. A cobalt ribbon tie accentuated the collar, matching the high-waisted pencil skirt in dark charcoal, finished off with her signature Mary-Janes.

When Gwen finally exited her room, she found Richard and another fellow in pleasant conversation, applauding herself as she watched their eyes light up with admiration. The awe came as no surprise, for the Chinese Mageocracy could arguably invest in talented NoM designers from Europe.

"Nice." Richard gave Gwen a smile of approval.

"I am inclined to agree." The stranger approached with an open hand. "Magus Jin Ru, at your service. I am here to deliver you to the Dean."

A Magus? Gwen felt shocked as they shook, then retreated a step and bowed. A Magus just to deliver two Neophytes? Babulya was better connected than she thought.

Jin beamed at her appreciatively. "I bet the old man can't wait to see you. Now, before we leave, I need to verify one thing."

"Sir?" Gwen tilted her head enquiringly, causing a single lock of style hair to hug her cheek.

"Lightning and Void, if you could give me a small demonstration." The Magus seemed a little embarrassed by his request. "For verification, of course, it's a little hard to believe that someone could access two oppositional elements."

"Of course, Sir." Gwen turned to the middle of the training hall and inoculated the Magus against shock by materialising both Ariel and Caliban.

Ariel appeared the same as always. Conversely, Gwen felt that Caliban was more robust and vigorous since its consumption of the Elder Gila.

"SHAA!" She received an empathic demand from Caliban to transform into its new form, though she suppressed the creature's whining.

Jin watched the two critters chase one another around the hall after fighting down a bout of vertigo when Caliban emerged from the dark space between Planes.

"Very impressive, Ms Song. I do believe we may proceed."

"Thank you, Magus Ru." Gwen dismissed her familiars, then followed the Magus out of the Song compound.

A car awaited them outside, a dark SUV embossed with the Fudan logo, a pictogram of the words' Fu-Dan' composed in the character style of the late Qing. As the vehicle left the compound, Jin gave the duo a history lesson on the university.

"Fudan stems from the final era of the late Qing Dynasty," Jin began. "The characters were chosen by its founder, Meister Xianbo Ma, from the Confucian Sect of Shangshu Dazhuan. Its intended meaning, 'Itinerant as the twilight, the sun glows, and moon luminesces', represents our expectations for the Mages who graduate from the college. Our motto is to learn extensively and adhere to aspirations, to inquire earnestly and reflect with self-application."

The man continued to speak as he drove.

"Our university is a survivor. We have outlived the Qing, the first Great War, the Second Beast Tide, the Communist Revolution, hail the Chairman, and finally, the global conversion to western Spellcraft. Today, we remain one of the only independent universities in China, as well as possing our very own Faculty Tower for apprenticing students."

"Fudan owns a Tower?" The last point came as a surprise. Gwen hadn't realised that other Towers apart from the PLA and the Pudong Tower existed in Shanghai.

"Well, technically no." Jin battered a hand as he turned into the Second Orbital Highway. "It's an experimental Tower, made to simulate conditions within a real tower. Quest boards, training rooms, Meditation suites, Cognisance Chambers. There's are no combat engines, an army of Golems, or Shield Generators. It was designed so that students could compete for resources. For obvious reasons, under the PLA, the mobile-fortress function of the Towers has been defunct and neglected since the 1970s..."

"However, you are welcome to participate and even take a room in the Tower should your grades and academic ranking allow. Your grandmother, our alumina, once possessed one such room near the top floor."

"I didn't know Fudan had this facility either," Richard said puzzlingly. "When did you begin this program?"

"The PLA halted the program in the 70s. But we managed to get permission to reinitiate in 1990," Jin answered proudly. "We have two Towers, in fact, T1 and T2, with the joining bottom segment named Guanghua, the Hall of Brilliance. Students wishing to stay in the Tower may choose a mock-Faction, and there are competitions for items and interesting resources. We've since also added the chance to trade CCs for resources as well."

"Nice. That would save us a trip to the PLA or the Pudong Tower," Richard pointed out.

"And it saves you from unnecessary politics before you graduate while giving you a taste for it," Jin replied. "You have no idea how many times we lost good students to the contest of the Towers' hungry for talent."

"Isn't early commitment seen as a good thing?" Gwen inquired.

"If all the talented students are off fighting the Undead, expanding our borders, hunting monsters or digging up Dungeons, who's going to be advancing Spellcraft, creating new spells, and investigating unseen phenomena?" Jin sighed. "Not to mention Party politics is far more dangerous than anything you can encounter in the wild. When you die to Magical Beasts, there's at least a corpse left behind."

Gwen chuckled nervously. She was beginning to get an inkling as to what Magus Ru thought about life outside of the confines of academia.

"You young Mages are still growing into your wings. Sometimes, it is best to pluck the bright feather and fly low until you understand what awaits in the sky above." Jin delivered his wisdom, drove in silence for a quarter of an hour, then turned off a ramp into the University Town of Fudan.

The immediate indication that they arrived was two gargantuan towers stabbing like twin spears into the sky. Constructed of a mixture of brutalist architecture and art-deco from the early 20s, the glass and concrete facade of the Hall of Brilliance cut an imposing presence over the low-lying campus, with parallel shadows that reminded Gwen of a giant sundial.

As the car turned into the university, the passengers were accosted by a bronze statue of the People's Magi, the legendary figure known as Mao Zedong. From coppery eyes that did not see, the great leader looked down upon all who entered Fudan's grounds, its face frozen in benevolence. The statue stood from an imposing height with one hand behind its back; the other pointed slightly forward to urge the observer to look ahead. As part of its facade, the figure wore a modified mandarine tunic in the military style, etched to resemble cotton, showing that Mao was a humble man despite his greatness.

Gwen did not care for the Magi. Instead, her eyes were drawn to the broad, four-lane avenue known as the Dashua Road, or University Road, a place filled with eateries. Alfresco dining spilling out from restaurants littered the four-kilometre boulevard framed by gigantic mulberry trees in earth and emerald. Shanghai was a cosmopolitan city, and so here were Indian, Korean, Vietnamese, and Japanese cuisine from all over, so dazzling that Gwen salivated against the panes of the car's window.

She had always considered herself a gastronomer in her old life, even if her favourite staple included SPAM.

Since arriving in her current body, with the occasional exception, her entire diet had depended upon the convenience of circumstance. She had seldom possessed the choice of what to eat. Now that they could attend Fudan, she could have her pick of food from anywhere in the world! What's more, with Caliban's help, she couldn't gain weight, uniquely a talent of the surviving Void Mage! Whatever her lessons were was going to be, here was a glorious three years of gastronomic adventure.

Two campuses sat adjacent to the east and west of Fudan's University Road. The old campus was the target of their visit, known as the Handan Campus, while the new campus converted from old hutongs had acquired the new moniker of the Jianghan campus.

The office of the Dean was surprisingly not located in the Fudan Towers, but in an old Victorian Era building leftover from Shanghai's colonial stint called Zibinyuan, located in the lower quadrant of Handan. Most of the buildings in the university reflected Fudan's cosmopolitan nature. To her shock, when they passed the university's central avenue, Gwen even saw 'Japan House', 'American House', and others in the Northern European style, with slanted roofs and pitched awnings.

She was still marvelling at the architecture when Richard opened her door. When she exited, one white thigh over the other, Magus Ru looked away and found renewed vigour in introducing to them the history of the historic manor house that now served as the university's administrative headquarters.

Inside, the trio walked past the blue shaded lawn and found themselves in a manor's vaulted hall. A guard saluted the Magus as she entered, his eyes lingering a little too long on Gwen before turning forward like an automaton. They then made their way through a hall carpeted in navy and walled with mahogany,

covered from wall to wall with oil paintings of the Revolution.

At the end of the corridor was a set of double doors, which opened into a waiting area with an open door looking into the Office of the Dean. An outlandish looking woman sat at an over-large reception desk, languishingly moving paperwork from tray to tray with agonising slowness and an expression of severe consternation.

As they entered, she looked up.

Holy cows! Gwen's orbs grew wide. The woman wasn't human. Her eyes were two milky-orbs of air with specs of ultramarine; her flaxen hair resembled strands of sunbeams.

"Aeeee—" A chirpy cry emerged from the unlike source that was Richard. With an outburst that surprised them all, Lea separated from Richard's body and materialised herself.

"Whoa! Lea?" Her cousin fumbled to contain his Spirit.

"Kin! Kin!" Lea begged with the eagerness of a child, a reaction that made Gwen think. Indeed, Lea was sapient and sentient, but that didn't mean she was intelligent in the conventional sense. Thus far, Lea was incapable of abstract philosophy and other complex cognitive functions. It was difficult to thoroughly imbue human qualities onto a Spirit, which was why Sufina was both unique and beyond extraordinary. Even one as "talented" as Richard had to request rather than command Lea.

Now that Gwen thought about it, both Richard and Henry indulged in the whims of their Familiars whenever it was convenient or necessary, blurring the lines between Master and servant.

The woman at the table rose from the air to meet Lea, and the two danced a little jig. Despite her human appearance, the Sprite seemed less in control of its 'womanly' form than Lea, losing some of its morphic features to reveal its true self.

"An Air Elemental?" Richard turned to Ru. "A lesser Djinn?"

"Indeed, this is Ellen, the Magister's Familiar."

"The Magister's an Air Conjurer?" Gwen's mouth formed a happy 'o'; it was always nice to know another powerful Conjurer.

"Indeed, as well as a Transmuter and Illusionist," Ru affirmed Gwen's expectant expression with a nod. "Please, leave the Spirits to themselves. It is rare for elementals to meet kin so similar to themselves."

As expected, Richard indulged Lea, using his Conjuration to sever her from his body.

Glancing at the table, Gwen realised Ellen was in the midst of actual secretarial work, a fact that made her feel the true marvel of intelligent Spirits. Was the work perhaps an attempt by the Dean to further humanise the Spirit? She tried to imagine Caliban or Ariel doing the same position and had to suppress a mirthful smile. How could she convince her Lecturer that Caliban ate her homework? What if Ariel zapped her accounts to oblivion?

"Jin! Gwen, Richard! Come in, come in!" Magister Jiang's booming voice came on like a trumpet.

The duo entered while Magus Ru retreated to the door.

"My work here is done. I hope to see you around campus soon."

"Thank you, Sir." They both bowed, took a deep breath, then entered the Dean's open door.

Inside the Dean's office, Magister Luo had his guests' files opened in front of him. He had read through the cousins' stats almost a dozen times since last night.

Richard appeared as expected, a young man with a thin face, lean of limb and body, a square jaw and a Roman nose that hinted at his mixed heritage.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

When the girl appeared behind the young man, Luo felt a jolt of electricity fill the air. The girl was stunning! A heart-achingly pretty face, striking green-ochre eyes, and a lean, lithe figure, standing as the picture of perfection, a poster child.

Luo kept his face impassive.

"Greetings, I am Magister Luo Jiang, the Dean of this University."

Gwen and Richard both bowed deeply.

"I am Gwen Song; it's a pleasure to meet you, Sir."

"I am Richard Huang, Sir; it's an honour."

"I'd ask that you sit, as is proper for western customs."

Luo kept his eyes on the duo. "Conjure Object!" A pair of antique sitting chairs appeared behind them.

"Please sit."

"Conjure Object" was an impressive tier 4 spell, performed quietly and efficiently with great subtlety. There was no ripple in the Astral Plane, no burst of Conjuration mana; it was as though the chairs had always been there. To achieve such a feat required an exercise in Conjuration as natural as taking a breath of fresh air, as passive as blinking.

Gwen and Richard sat with impressed expressions.

Luo congratulated himself.

"I have studied both of your applications, including the commendations from Pudong Tower on behalf of the Morning Star himself. I am impressed, as anyone would be impressed, by your achievements at so young an age."

"Thank you, Sir." the girl inclined her head.

Luo rapped his fingers against the table.

Rap. Rap. Rap. The crisp sound was an onomatopoeic representation of his thoughts.

"However, your applications have come at a difficult time for us. Are you aware that your grandmother, my respected colleague, the esteemed Klavdiya Song, Director of the Second PLA Hospital, has submitted you for a Scholarship position?"

"Sir?" The girl had not heard. She had assumed that she was applying for a full-fee position.

"Are we eligible?" Richard asked the more poignant question.

Luo pursed his lips. The duo held their breath.

"Yes," he said finally. "I am allowing it."

Both Gwen and Richard allowed their breath to escape their lips.

"However, there is a multi-stage process for selection of students for the Lim-Chanrol Student Scholarship prize, or the LCSS, as endearingly known amongst the cohort. There will be a written exam, a Practical, then an interview before a panel. Usually, students have weeks, even months, to prepare. I regret to inform you that you have—"

Luo paused, studying their faces carefully. "—several hours. What say you? If not, you are always welcome to apply for the latter year cohort for 2004's semester 1. I hope you understand that Director Song has sprung this upon me rather unconventionally."

The duo met one another's eyes, nodded, then responded confidently.

"If we fail, Sir, are we still able to apply for the non-scholarship course? Or for the scholarship course again?" the girl asked.

"Of course," Luo answered them. "I should also note that the students selected for the Inter-University Competition are usually LCSS alumnus. That and you need to understand that having failed once, it will reflect poorly, though not critically, upon your next application."

"I see." the girl appeared to consider the hand dealt toward her and her cousin. Luo wondered what they were thinking—play it safe and slow or loose and fast; those were the options before them. How confident was the girl? The young man should have no problems, considering his role at Prince's.

"Shall I explain the stages of each competition?" Luo offered an olive brane.

"Please do." The girl squared her shoulders attractively.

"Very good." The Magister's lips curled mirthfully. "The written exam is an essay on the current status of our precarious world. It can range anywhere between Demi-humans and Humanity, ecological issues with the Mermen, Political treaties between the Frontier Cities. It has the least weighing of the three exams and serves largely as a measure of your eloquence and wisdom in assessing current affairs."

Oh, that's not good. Gwen bit her lip hesitantly. She was a country bumpkin from the woods. What kind of political discourse or sagely observation could she possibly give regarding matters of a world she had barely begun to know?

"The next exam is the Combat examination. You may select a tier of Summoned Creature, then attempt to defeat the randomised creature that emerges from the Conjuration Circle. Rest assured that your life will be in no danger, though I wouldn't guarantee the same for risk of significant injury, so do be careful."

"What tier can we choose from?" Richard asked.

"The exam begins at 5, which is already beyond the abilities of your average University student, and may progress up to 12."

"12?" Gwen turned to Richard questioningly. "What could be tier 12?"

"The Imperial Tier system is largely a generalisation," Luo explained. "As you are both from the frontier, you have probably had little to no contact with higher-order Demi-humans. A member of the Elven race, for example, is usually a fourth tier creature, possessing extraordinary agility and intelligence, not to mention a lifespan of millennia. When you add that age and wisdom to Arcane Craft, however, as well as elemental affinity, an Elven Druid or Sorceress could easily surpass tier 10 regarding raw destructive potential. Conversely, a Dire Bear with Fortified Earth, and so on, which would be 6 or 7, pending bloodline and traits."

"Incredible," the girl confessed to her ignorance, her eyes growing strangely vacant at the mention of Elves.

"The same applies to us. Are we not dangerous in ourselves, hmm? Even though the common man is merely tier 1." Luo chuckled amiably, then irritably, he suddenly recalled that he had given an explicit order only moments earlier. "Ellen! Where is that tea?!"

'Ellen' appeared with a tea set bore on solidified air.

"Use your arms and legs, Ellen," Luo commanded his Familiar. "Come on, now."

The air Sprite took the tray with her ethereal fingers and manipulated the handle, clumsily took a cup and began to fill it with tea. His audience watched in awe as the spectacle unfolded. 'Ellen', as human-like as she appeared, even dressed appropriately in the garb of a doe-eyed secretary, struggling with the pot. At the same time, her slender legs wobbled, struggling to maintain balance without taking flight.

Ellen passed a cup over to Richard, but his Familiar hesitated when she got to Gwen. Suddenly, Luo felt a bout of loathing emanating from his Familiar.

"I'll take that, thank you." The girl reached out for the cup and saucer.

"EEE—" Ellen slipped and flung the tea straight toward Gwen's face.

"Lea!" Thankfully, Richard recalled Lea quickly and caught the liquid before Gwen became drenched in Osmanthus water.

"Ellen!" Magister Luo sent a jolt of mana into his Familiar the addressed the girl. "I am very sorry. It's hard work, trying to humanise your Familiar. You should try it yourself, Gwen."

"It's okay," the girl smiled. "I don't—"

"That was your fault!" Ellen seemed more peeved at Luo than Gwen herself. With a flash of Conjuration, she ceased to exist within the material and bid herself to return to her Pocket Dimension. The tea set was left hanging in the air for a comical moment before Lea caught it expertly in a watery bubble.

"She's a work in progress," Magister Luo confessed with both hands raised. "I acquired her as a mid-tier spirit, and I am trying to improve her fine motor skills and general intelligence, but alas, Air Sprites are willful, proud, and a little too flippant."

Richard asked Lea to bring the tea set to rest against a sideboard.

"Now, dear Lea! What you have there, Mister Huang, is the envy of all Conjurers." Luo watched Lea manipulate the tray expertly. "You'll have to tell me about how you came to acquire such a spirit one day, Richard."

"I look forward to it." Richard grinned at the Magister. "She's not for sale, by the way."

"I would allow nothing of the sort, my boy! I am merely admiring. She's a beauty, she is." Luo snuffed his slight feelings of jealousy.

"She is, is she not?" Richard politely asked Lea to service the trio. Together, they watched her pour the tea clumsily, collecting wayward drops by controlling the liquid.

"Where was I?" Magister Luo returned his eyes on the two young Mages before him.

"The Combat Exam, the Tiers," Gwen answered him.

A smile touched Luo's lips affirmatively.

"Ah yes, the creatures randomly summoned will be within one to two tiers of your indicated challenge rating. You can give up anytime, and we'll banish it."

"Understood, Sir," Gwen replied.

"What if a creature has directly oppositional affinities?" Richard inquired further. "Such as if I were to face an Ice Elemental, or Gwen an Earth Elemental? Wouldn't that be unfair?"

"You have three attempts," Luo informed them. "If you are unlucky all three attempts, then I can only assume that you're not meant to be here. Fortune, my dear boy, is also a keen component of a Mage's growth. Dungeon diving, Adventuring, the discovery of new fauna and flora, all tied to one's luck. Whatever the case, do your best to demonstrate your skills. Brute force, skilful manipulation, wisdom in Spellcraft or even courage under adversity, we take them all into the account."

Luo waited for the duo to digest the news.

"The final component is the interview, conducted by the Magisters from the three main factions within the university. These are not real Factions, like the ones in the Tower, of course, they are staff and student organised social groups. There will be the Faculty Head of Advanced Spellcraft, the Department Head of a school I will refrain from informing you, and the Provost of the General Department."

"Any clues as to what they may ask, Sir?" Richard inquired bluntly.

"A range of questions, to be sure," Magister Luo replied evasively, not wanting to give away the game. "Some personal, some political, others merely of interest to the Interviewers themselves. My recommendation is to be yourselves."

"I see." The boy motioned for Lea to return. Lea ignored him and instead flittered about the room, poking at old photo frames and swirling about crystal decanters that scintillated against the sunbeams shining through the french windows.

Amused, the two spirit-possessing Conjurers regarded one another with looks of mutual understanding. The boon and bane of having sapient spirits were that they had a mind of their own.

"I am good to go," the girl spoke with confidence.

"Excellent." Luo put his hands together. "I will inform the others that you will be joining them."

"How many others, Sir?" Richard asked. "What's the competition?"

"Including you, twenty," Luo replied. "A few genuinely talented students, the others prodigies from the Clans and the Houses, here for prestige more so than anything else the Scholarship may provide. There are only two spots for Full-Scholarship, followed by four for Half-Scholarship."

"So, six out of twenty?" The girl nibbled her lips contemplatively. "Do we have to duel any of the other contestants?"

"There is precedence, but no, you will not. The result is objectively determined, based on your performances, then extensively debated."

"I see."

"Very well then, I shall expect the good news. The results will be posted by the week's end. The semester itself begins mid-June. Assuming you succeed, there is still a month to sort out campus accommodations."

"I admire your confidence, Sir," Richard smirked at Luo. "And your foresight."

"I am an open book." Magister Luo glanced at his two proteges, feeling well satisfied. "Ellen will take you to the testing grounds on the other side of the campus. Do take care."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Thank you, Sir."

Luo gave the two permission to go, then, looking around the office, went about fixing himself a happy drink.

Gwen and Richard proceeded away from the Colonial house and down the central Handan promenade, where the entrance to the Hall of Brilliance lay, its three-metre glass doors swinging to and fro as Mages came and went.

Carefully, she observed the cosmopolitan students, mostly Chinese, some European, some Eurasian, a few resembling the Han Chinese but distinctly different, which she could only assume to be Korean or Japanese, as well as a few more exotic faces which she guessed to be South American or Mediterranean.

There was a massive lawn area right before the Fudan Towers, with broad, poplar strewn avenues running down either side. After piercing the greenery, the trio reached the second campus, Jianghan, where the newer Spellcraft facilities resided.

"In here." Ellen's inhuman eyes were scintillatingly beautiful, reflecting the infinite cloudscape of the Elemental Plane of Air. She pointed to a warehouse converted office building with poetry written in red on either side of the door as a couplet.

The first read:

'There exist no shortcuts on the winding path of Spellcraft'

The second read:

'There is no shore when sailing upon the seas of Arcane knowledge.'

To Gwen, both were elegant proverbs.

"Welcome!"

A pair of Mages, a man and a woman, emerged from the shaded double doors of the warehouse, introducing themselves as the Proctors.

"Greetings." Gwen and Richard bowed.

The two Proctors returned their greeting with slight inclines of their heads. One of them motioned for the two to enter.

"The written exam is in here, the General Examination Hall. Would you like to begin? The Dean has asked to give you time to prepare if you need it."

Gwen couldn't think of anything productive she could potentially pertain as to the two hours she possessed, and so she nodded. Beside her, Richard brimmed with supernatural confidence.

The warehouse's interior betrayed the shabby looking exterior, probably preserved to retain the historical look of the campus. Instead of galvanised sheeting, the interior was a vaulted wooden ceiling with soft golden pine, embedded with soft down-lights and climate-controlled to perfection. The hall itself took advantage of the warehouse's arched ceilings, separated and held up by three wishbone dividers. If fully arranged, the hall was capable of housing a thousand examinees.

Currently, there were only four students busily scribbling away at their tests.

Soundlessly, the proctors placed Gwen and Richard into separate, private examination rooms plated with ash-blonde wood, modestly reflective with a pleasant matt-lacquer.

Gwen smoothed out her dress and sat on the unyielding chair.

"You have a hundred and twenty minutes," the Proctor said.

A stack of paper and a single test sheet was upon the table, which Gwen presumed to be the exam paper.

She flipped over the page and read the conditions of the exam.

**Written Section**

Total Marks (50)

Allow 120 Min for this section:

IN YOUR ANSWER, you are assessed on how well you:

\- Demonstrate an understanding of the way Spellcraft may be applied practically.

\- Describe, explain and analyse the relationships between Spellcraft, context, and real-world events.

\- Demonstrate appropriate use of language and form in the essay format

**"Humanity must strive to bring significant and enduring change through the application of Spellcraft."**

**Address this statement with your observation and opinions.**

Gwen felt for the pen and pulled a piece of exam paper toward her chest. She could only write in English and so hoped that the language barrier wouldn't be a problem. After all, the question was perfect; it was perfect for someone like herself.

How should she go about it?

Radical, insightful, or perhaps—groundbreaking?


As a successful member of the consultancy fellowship, Gwen knew she could convincingly compose the essay at hand and that her only dilemma was the topic.

Tier 1 city or otherwise, for all the magical bluster her current world possessed, humanity was woefully behind her old world in the realm of bureaucracy and politics.

Perhaps, she imagined, it was because the Mage-world lacked "democracy" in the sense of "all men born equal", lacking concrete concepts of individual rights, especially the prole base made up by the NoMs.

In Australia, despite its lauded freedom, she could see that theirs was a society of long-suffering Apartheid by magical lottery. Thanks to the necessity of survival, the western Mageocracy resembled the15th-century Romagna. Within its network, city-states formed self-serving enclaves, establishing a perimeter of Frontier Cities whose only purpose was to provide nutrition to its nerve centre. China was likewise such a state, possessing the cosmopolitan capital of Shanghai in the south, and the old seat of imperial power, Beijing, up north. Under the CCP's reign, citizens were given Party-selected representatives to represent their interests, a mockery of citizen rights.

Worse still, these NoM "officials" held little power over the Towers, who consider themselves above worldly legality. According to her grandmother, two groups of Mages presided over Shanghai's arcane ministries.

The People's Liberation Army Tower had boons granted by their allegiance to the Party. Their Mages performed out of ideology and because they had been reared from obscurity by the socialist policies of the state. Comparatively, the Pudong Tower was composed of free-ranging Mages, international expatriates, and members of the Mageocracy's unnumerable Towers.

Together, the PLA Tower and the Pudong Tower formed a balance of interest. The PLA Tower bent its resources to develop its trope of China's interests. At the same time, Pudong remained tethered to the Tower system initially envisioned by its European creators after the Second Great War.

Considering the circumstances, Gwen decided to compose a piece on the nature of the "Apartheid" between Mages and NoMs. In her mind, such a fundamentally inefficient society was hardly sustainable, even if public hysteria meant that the majority was happy to place all power into the hands of the minority.

For a modern economy to prosper, one couldn't abide by the adage that might make right. To surmise what Gwen had thus far seen of Shanghai, it felt as though the powerful took what they wanted with impunity. If there was a treasure, one vied for it. If there was a beauty, one possessed it. If there was a Dungeon, you conquered it.

Even after experiencing Sydney's fall, the world she lived in continued to surprise her with its raw savagery.

If so, should she write about Locke? Propose the Second Treaties in mixing one's labour with the land?

Or perhaps she could draw upon the mighty Leviathan, offer some insight on the symbiotic nature between the head and the hands?

Or maybe even Rousseau, whose' treaties on the Savage Man seemed right at home with the wanton natures of Mages in this world.

Gwen put pen to paper, then began to write.

"On the Vindication of NoMs among us."

She would write something with passion and eloquence, drawn from a period of the 19th century where women lacked rights, property, and recognition, a reflection of the state of NoMs. She appropriated lines from Wollstonecraft, whose essay she had studied extensively in university, weaving funny anecdotes with bitter diatribe and witty banter.

"Let us not forget that even the highest Mages..." Gwen wrote, "originated from NoMs." In her treaties, she stated that though the Houses and Clans are lauded entities, they yet produce Squabs, meaning just as NoMs could win the genetic lottery, Mages could lose them. To abuse NoMs and treat them as fodder, forgotten and left to menial labour, abused, despoiled and pillaged at the pleasure of the Mage—is to debase humanity itself.

As with her Master, she explained that the abuse of greatness is when it is disjoint from remorse!

If indeed, she argued, Mages possess such abundant resources, why not seek to eradicate the people trafficking in the extensive ghettos and invest in education for the NoMs, restructuring the bottom of society by offering meagre but meaningful employment?

There may yet be great innovators, originators, scholars, creators of the arts, celebrated human minds that lay untapped among the populace. Should the prejudice subside, the aftermath could be a renaissance of art, culture, invention and innovations stemming from the largest population of humanity—the NoMs.

Gwen wrote roughly but idealistically, understanding that she must write from the position of a naive student, one who desired a genuine change to the woes her world faced. Her essay, she could imagine, should be the sort of thing that her instructors would find amusing but eloquent, ideal but be lacking in substance, a demonstration of a student with great hopes and designs for the future, one with positivity and morality.

Does not an NoM bleed when you prick them?

Does not an NoM cry when they are hurt?

She filled in the gaps at a pace the others could only marvel. At the test's conclusion, she handed in two-dozen pages in florid but neat handwriting.

"That's a lot of writing!" The female Proctor collected her essay with an expression of astonishment.

"I had a lot to say," Gwen stated matter-of-factly.

"Your companion also finished early. He waits for you outside."

Gwen ventured outside the examination hall, shielding her eyes against the glare of the mid-day sun.

"Ready for your next examination?" Richard's smiling face awaited her arrival.

"Sure, what did you write about?"

"Coming from Sydney, I'd think that would be self-evident," Richard stated thoughtfully. "I wrote a treatise about periodically cleansing the coastal regions as to prevent a Creature Tide in the Coastal Wildlands."

"That sounds rather pragmatic." Gwen pursed her lips. Should she have written something likewise practical? The question did say 'change the world', had it not?

"It was nothing original," Richard added. "Though I did some math and pointed out the benefits of using minimal force to project maximum gain in acquiring resources for the city, as well as using the operation as training for junior Mages to acquaint them with oceanic and coastal combat. I included thirty-six points of interest and pointed out fourteen potential setbacks."

"Oh." Gwen felt even less sure of her boastful essay now.

"What did you do?" Her cousin asked.

"Er… stuff." Gwen played with a coil of hair self-consciously. "I wrote about NoMs."

Richard blinked, then snorted encouragingly. "I should have thought as much. I am sure it'll do well. You know the CCP feels very strongly about NoMs here, much more than in Australia."

"Let's hope so. Thanks, Richard." Gwen smiled at her cousin sweetly. "Now, shall we see to the second part of our exam?"

* * *

The field trials took place next door in another warehouse adjacent to the first.

"You will be entering a Combat Arena roughly the size of a football field," the Proctor explained. "Are you aware of the procedure? Would you like me to explain?"

"The Dean has already explained," Richard informed the Proctor.

The man nodded, then stepped aside. Within, Gwen could hear the sound of the distinctive hum of the Walls of Force generators thrumming to keep up.

From end to end, the testing platform took up the entire length of the enormous warehouse, fitted with bleachers on three sides and shielded unilaterally with Walls of Force. Within, framed by a rolling knoll the size of a tennis court, a two-headed giant wielded a club clumsily, fighting a Mage who flittered about through the air like a sprite.

"Glacial Shards!"

A flurry of a dozen blue-white bolts zinged through the air to strike the giant in both eyes, centred upon each brow. The thick hide of the giant shrugged off the force of the attacks—albeit the penetrative elemental damage momentarily blinded the Ettin, an infamous species of monstrous Fay commonly found in mountainous regions.

"Sleet Storm!" The Elementalist effortlessly drifted through the air.

Gwen and Richard took a seat on the bleachers to observe their competitor, an elfin girl with cropped hair and a manic-pixie appearance. Presently, she was corkscrewing through the Ettin's reach, teasing the beast as the two-headed giant battered its surroundings in a blind rage.

"Blizzard!" The air grew abruptly cold.

Below the Ettin, the ground became a slippery sheet of ice and debris. Together with a shard of forceful ice, it was sufficient to send the disorientated Ettin backwards, tripping and falling until it folded upon the weight of its brutal body.

An Evoker-Transmuter! Gwen marvelled, deeply impressed by the agility and skill of the combatant well on her way to becoming an Aerial Battle Mage.

With the Ettin floored, the elfin girl flew in for the kill.

"Rime Blast!"

A shrieking sphere of frost left her fingers and struck the Ettin on the right head, where it rapidly expanded into a forty-foot diameter ring of rime.

The Ettin shuddered as its head froze, pawing its face feebly, struggling to breathe as its respiratory systems rebelled and its fluids froze.

"Enough!" A Proctor activated a device, and the Ettin disappeared in a shimmering show of Conjuration mana. Simultaneously, the conjured grassy highlands ceased to be, returning to the bare concrete of the un-transmogrified space of the warehouse.

The gathered audience clapped as the girl landed, her face glowing with exertion.

"Very good, Kitty, you may return."

The girl bowed to the Proctor and returned to the bleachers, where she met half a dozen others in jovial congratulations.

The Proctor then turned to the crowd.

"As it were, we have TWO more entries into the examination," he announced by raising his voice an octave. "Reset the field!"

"How come—" one of the students audibly protested. "But Proctor, there are only eighteen candidates! You can't just add people last minute! The candidates are finalised weeks in advance!"

"Mao! Unfair! Who are these people!" Another voice complained.

"I bet they paid their way in," someone suggested rudely.

"What is Dean Jiang thinking? My House will hear about this!"

"Silence!" The Proctor's face flushed a shade darker. "The Dean has spoken. If you're unhappy with it, you are welcome to withdraw from the LSCC Mid-Semester Scholarship Exam."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The students clammed up, though their eyes instantly found Gwen and Richard.

"Gwen Song!" the Proctor announced, his voice filled with displeasure. "Proceed onto the field."

"May I go first?" Richard stood.

"No." The Proctor shook his head, not even bothering to look toward Richard. "Gwen Song. Are you ready to proceed with your first attempt?"

Richard sat back down and placed a hand on Gwen's knee.

"I'll be fine," Gwen said to her companion.

"I know," Richard replied stoically.

"What Tier would you like to attempt?" the Proctor enquired of Gwen.

"What was the two-headed giant?" Gwen asked in return.

"Tier 5."

"Very well, give me a tier 6 monster," Gwen spoke with confidence— after Sydney, after the Dungeon, she shouldn't even be breaking a sweat.

The Proctor raised a bushy brow.

"We are not responsible for any injuries, though we will endeavour to preserve your life," he said carefully. "If you are grievously injured, you may not attempt again."

"I am aware, proceed." Gwen walked past the Proctor.

"Break a leg!" Richard shouted.

Gwen walked across the bleachers and made her way down to the area. A few catcalls and a whistle answered her from across the hall while the rest of the contestants sat brooding like disgruntled ogres.

As she descended into the Arena, Gwen produced a scrunchy from her Storage Ring, pulling back her loose bun until it formed a cascading ponytail.

She looked up to see her hecklers and that there were three groups, a clump congregated near the centre, in the midst of which was the prior contestant, the Elemental Ice girl. Unlike the others, their mixed attire indicated a rag-tag band of like-minded folks who became friends rather than a Clan of sorts.

Gwen stepped onto the concrete with clacking heels. She could feel the eyes of the gathered contestants like feelers over her skin.

"Initiating tier 6 Combat Trial!" The Proctors called out to the Conjurers manning the Summoning Circle.

A hushed murmur fell over the hall.

The grounds shimmered and churned until the materialised space resembled a savanna, created from a combination of Conjuration, Transmutation and Illusionary glyphs. Her old High School, Blackwattle, had a similar setup, though lacking in many ways.

"You may self-buff should you wish," the Proctor informed Gwen. "Extra points if you do not."

Gwen shook her head. "I'll be fine. Please proceed."

The refusal to pre-buff sent the crowd into a murmur. It was a recipe for disaster not to protect oneself or preload powerful spells. A Mage should sue for every advantage, especially if challenging something at the apex of one's power.

"You may begin once the creature is summoned," the Proctor informed them. "Adjudicator, you may proceed."

A burst of brilliant Conjuration mana filled one end of the arena, roughly fifty paces from where Gwen stood unprofessional white blouse and pencil skirt, looking as though a young banker had lost herself in the wilderness of the steppes.

To her limited knowledge, "fodder" creatures conjured in this way were ripped out from their home and displaced through the Astral Plane into the Material Plane, and therefore always materialised with a bad temper. Thereby, outside an academic or gladiatorial setting, such spells were only used as means to delay an opponent for reasons of its inefficiency.

As the silvery motes faded, the shape of a feline form the size of a people-mover van came into view. The creature appeared disorientated for the first split-second, but its golden eyes quickly adjusted upon Gwen as it brought its powerful musculature to bear.

"A Chimaera Lioness!" someone cried out from the stands. "Tier 7!"

The newly appearing creature would take a moment to re-orientate its new surroundings, which was perfect for Gwen's next move.

"Caliban!" She summoned her trump card even as the lioness noticed her and bared its fangs. With the motes of silver cleared, she now saw that the creature was not entirely lion-like. While its head and upper body resembled a lioness, its lower torso ended with hooves, and its tail was a hissing serpent. Furthermore, as the creature began to bear down upon Gwen, she could see that its eyes possessed that strange and alien cornea which goats possessed.

Mid-charge, Caliban burst forth from a slit in the Prime Material.

Gwen felt the safety threshold provided by Almudj's vital force instantly overcome as Caliban emerged in its newest form. Her complexion grew pallid, for she had willed her creature to appear in its spider guise, but the burgeoning mass the Void vomited forth was massive and bipedal.

"C-Caliban!" Gwen clenched her teeth. "Defend me!"

Had Caliban grown too powerful for her to command? Her mind raced, her thoughts suddenly full of chaos and unbidden fears of losing control. The Lovecraftian horror had, after all, consumed thousands of critters and an Elder Gila in the last few days, while her Conjuration had remained unimproved since before her Master was murdered by his erstwhile wife. Whatever tier Caliban may be in its new form, it wasn't containable by her measly fourth-tier aptitude.

Behind her, she could hear the audience becoming unwitting witnesses to her grotesque miracle.

As a Gila, Caliban fell onto the Transmuted floor of the make-shift savannah like a drop of tenebrous ink, then unfolded itself into an eight-foot-tall frog-lizard-humanoid spawn of indefinite shape. Its body mass was stacked like a reversed pyramid, with the bulbous musculature of its head taking up almost half of its torso. A giant lamprey's mouth drooling with grey slime sat in the centre of its faceless mien as it flexed obsidian claws embedded into three-toed fingers. Below, its hind legs were comically short but thick and stout, kinetically coiled like two primed pistons.

The two monstrous existences met each other halfway in a titanic clash, the lioness leaping into the air and launching itself into a powerful kick with its hooves even as its fore-limbs racked and slashed and its feline maw tore into the rubbery flesh of the summoned Familiar. The Chimaera's serpentine tail likewise bit into the slimy dermis of its opponent, delivering a necrotic venom that would liquify living tissue in a matter of seconds.

Caliban's rubbery flesh was torn at once, becoming ribbons of dark meat as the lioness' claws cleaved at its interior.

Gwen felt another bout of vitality drain away, stealing the breath from her chest, but what else could she do at this point? She had made her bed, and now she must lie in it. Had she known Caliban would have emerged with such size and ferocity, she would have chosen Ariel or perhaps planned out her battle better.

Through their Empathic Link, she could feel the gibbering bestial joy Caliban exerted. An unexplainable desire came unbidden to her mind, embedded within Caliban's newly acquired body.

Before she could stop herself, her hungry body gave the command.

"Consume!"

She staggered back, her head growing dizzy.

Caliban swelled like a bullfrog, its rib cage violently expanding as it ballooned in size, surprising even the Chimaera Lioness who lost its grip upon Caliban's slimy exterior. With a gurgling hiss, her creature's lamprey's mouth unfolded, expanding until it became a maw the width of its body, a full meter across at the extremities.

"Wocao!" Voices in the crowd swore. "Mao's ghost!"

Even the furious monster howled in guttural terror as its goat's eyes stared into the bottomless depth held captive within Caliban's toothy hell.

"SHAA—!"

With the sound of a wet, slurping crunch, Caliban enclosed its mouth around the struggling Chimaera, attaching bloodily onto its upper body by swallowing the lion's entire frontal torso. As with a snake, Caliban's lips disregarded all properties of the physical flesh to expand massively around the lion-creature.

With a violent, slurping motion, Caliban inhaled, filling the area with the sound of bones cracking and vessels popping. There was another brief but violent struggle; then the Chimaera grew still.

"Enough!" One of the Proctors gave the command.

A burst of silvery mana came over the carcass, and the maimed or near-dead creature became unsummoned as the spell unravelled.

In front of Gwen, her Caliban bewilderingly licked its lips and wondered where its delicious meal had gone.

"What the hell was that?"

"A GILA! That's a DEATH GILA!" The crowd grew wild with speculations.

"Death Gila? As a Familiar? And what was that Element?"

While the others raved, Gwen felt her world transform into a topsy-turvy spinning top. She desperately channelled some of her recovering Almudj-mana into her body, steadying herself as to not become a fainting spectacle in the middle of an exam.

"Caliban! Return!" She called out, her voice peevish and upset at her rebellious Familiar.

"SHAA—!" her Familiar was not a happy frog and refused to return.

Gwen felt a slight, spine-tickling panic. Had she lost control? No. She could handle this. She had to.

Caliban sauntered over toward her on its stumpy hind legs.

Christ—! Gwen gulped. Her Void fiend was huge.

Towering over her in its humanoid form, Gwen realised how massive the creature had become. It was like she was looking up at an obsidian menhir that blotted out the sun.

Caliban's faceless head, lacking eyes and nose but possessing a mouth spacious enough to fit in her entire torso, lowered itself.

Does it want to be petted? Gwen acknowledged from her empathic link. Her Caliban was sad that food had disappeared.

"What's she doing?" someone asked their peers.

"Showing off," someone else stated.

"Do you think it's a Death Gila?"

"Whatever it is, I ain't fighting it," a voice remarked, much to the agreement of the others.

Ignoring the peanut gallery, Gwen patted Caliban's scarred snout, where even now the wounds made by the Chimaera were healing rapidly, leaving behind white lines in its obsidian flesh.

"SHAA— Shaa— shaa—"

The humungous humanoid-frog purred and croaked through its circular-saw lips, drooling grey-slime as it nudged her like a cat, sending Gwen off-balance.

Gwen materialised then fed her Caliban an unopened can of Spam.

The crowd in the bleachers grew silent.

She noticed the Proctors studying her.

Shit. Gwen felt her heart sink.

As Henry would say, that was a terrible display.

No skill. No finesse. No display of control or knowledge.

There was nothing but power.

Raw. Brutal. Unmitigated Power.

She looked to Richard, who did not appear touched by her horrific display. When Gwen looked to the others, she saw expressions of horror, disgust, loathing mixed with general aversion.

The short-haired pixie girl, in particular, was white as a sheet as their gaze met.

Gwen returned her attention to the battle at hand.

"Please, Caliban, do it for mummy!" She begged her Familiar. "Go home..."

Instead, her frog-fiend sniffed the air and hung out a tenebrous tongue of pink flesh to lick her face.

"Okay, okay, buddy, come on! Go home!" Gwen caressed its snout a little more vigorously, rubbing it with her knuckles.

To her horror, Caliban turned toward the bleaches to regard the young Mages with a feeling of intense hunger.

Gwen felt within her body a renewed tug of war.

"No!" She slapped Caliban wetly on the flank. "GO HOME! NOW!"

Caliban pushed her aside roughly.

"Friend!" Gwen pointed at the Mages. "NOT FOOD! Go home!"

Then, there was a moment of hesitation between Master and Familiar, as if a higher power answered. With a "Shaa" of protest, Caliban returned to its Pocket Dimension, returning to the amiable form of the serpent.

Gwen breathed out a sigh of immense relief and turned to the Proctors.

An awkward round of applause began in the bleachers, likely urged by Richard, ending with only the clapping of her cousin.

"You may wait on the other side." The Proctor motioned to the side where the other students were sitting.

Gwen nodded, willed a little more of Almudj's energy to fortify her health, then carefully and slowly, she stalked across the arena.

Dozens of other contestants regarded Gwen as she crossed the threshold.

"Hello." She waved to the largest group. "I am Gwen Song."

The group turned to look at the pixie girl, who did not greet Gwen back. Awkwardly, Gwen retracted her arm and turned to the trio on the sidelines.

Thankfully, these waved back, but their body language was neither invitational nor amiable, merely polite.

Gwen sighed. From the looks of it, even if she was to assume a scholarship position, she wasn't likely going to make new friends. But her social life aside, her mind added wistfully. She needed some immediate and dire instruction on what happened when a Familiar grows above and beyond the tiers of Conjuration possessed by the Conjurer. How can she wrestle back the mental control she had once maintained over Caliban and prevent her darling beast from taking her life force to 'protect' her whenever it felt necessary to do so?

All of that would have to wait until the semester began and she could speak intimately with a course coordinator.

Wiping the others from her mind, she patted down her dress and sat on the wooden slabs that made the bleaches' benches. She crossed her legs and tried to regulate her breathing, watching as Richard entered the stage.

Richard's field turned out to be a semi-urban setting consisting of stunted walls and broken rubble. His challenge of tier 6 Summoned beings was a troop of cunning Corpse Wolves, Undead creatures riddled with disease and venom. A single wolf was barely past the range of tier 3. However, when the wily creatures worked as a pack, they became a significant threat to settlements and expeditions, capable of taking down entire parties of Mages. A few seconds into the fight, Gwen could see that the Alpha of the pack was highly intelligent, commanding the others to surround Richard as soon as the wolves orientated their senses to their new surroundings.

As before, Richard spread motes of water throughout the surroundings, abusing the superior elemental control afforded by Lea.

A minute later, the pack was quashed, and the Alpha whimpered in a Watery Tomb. Then, with casual cruelty, Richard dispatched the beast, rending it limb from limb like a child tearing the wings from a fly.

Richard waved at her—or more precisely, he waved at those behind her, leaving no doubt as to what he would do should they bully his cousin.

Waving back, Gwen swallowed anxiously, wondering why her hands and feet were stone cold.

With the Undead Wolf torn to bits, Richard asked the Proctor if the exam should continue. The Proctor affirmed his success, and the practical exam ended without incident.

For Richard, the applause was genuine.

"Well, shall we?" Richard extended a hand toward her as he came up the bleachers. " Shall we? There's one more to go."

Gwen shot a sideways glance at her fellow contestants, whose faces were unreadable masks of consternation.

Her wane lips broke into a smile as she looked up at her peerless companion.

"Let us go then," she replied, taking his hand.

The interview.

A future curriculum.

And Caliban's rebellious teenagehood.

Richard's was right—for now, she had bigger fish to fry than these kids and their teenage angst.