Gwen awoke, presided over by a resplendent angel in a trainee's scrubs. The Celestial looked just like Elvia; only she was attaching an I.V drip onto Gwen's wrist.

“Healing Word."

A familiar tingle of Positive energy infused Gwen's chest, stitching her bruised flesh. Slowly, her throbbing injury dissolved until all discomfort ceased. Gradually, Gwen's refocused eyes became drawn to a silver-winged badge on Elvia's collar, consisting of two crossed staves with twin serpents.

"Congrats on getting your licence..." Gwen languished voice addressed her companion.

"Thanks," Elvia replied, her cheeks as fresh as pippins, but then the girl's tone took on a sterner note. "Why did you and Yue both get injured! That's so irresponsible! I wasn't even there!"

Gwen felt a pang of guilt. In hindsight, the impression she had made was matched only by her recklessness.

"I couldn't have summoned the Shield otherwise..." She tried to explain logically. "It took everything I had, next time..."

"Hmmph!" Elvia snorted. "There won't be a 'next' time, at least not without me nearby!"

"Sure thing, Evee," Gwen touched her friend's slim white fingers in an attempt to appease her upset. "How was your test?"

"Fine, though I wasn't in danger, not like you guys," Elvia recollected. “It was difficult having to triage twenty patients by myself, but everyone did fine. Uncle had to make minor adjustments, but I passed with flying colours."

"I am glad to hear it." Gwen breathed out.

The door of the infirmary opened without so much as a knock.

"She awake?"

Yue entered the room like a storm.

"Yeah, just about."

"Hey, Yue."

"Gwen!" Yue leaned into the bed and gave her friend a suffocating hug. "I got some great news! Because of the school's crop of 'advanced' students, we're going to have a personal instructor! The Sydney Tower is sending one of their own!"

A private Instructor? Gwen mused. That IS good news. Ordinarily only the elite private schools had individual Instructors.

"Other than that, how are you feeling?"

"I am just a bit tired," Gwen confessed.

"The drip is a saline solution, it should get your hydration up," Elvia informed them. "I am afraid I haven't learned Lesser Restoration yet."

"Take another nap,” Yue advised. "You totally out of mana."

"I think I will."

“One more thing.” Yue stopped by the door, trailed by Elvia. “You’re up for another session at the Cog Chamber. The Principal says to get it done as soon as you can. Before the Instructor arrives.”

"Alright."

A second session would be immensely helpful, Gwen though, applauding Principal Bartlett's assistance. She needed to figure out what those strange black phenomena had been.

With her friends gone, Gwen sunk into the soft linen covers of the infirmary bed and thought about the near future to come. She had finally attained her short-term goals, and now her immediate concern was the real-life trial by fire and combat.

Blackwattle's top Acolytes would delve in groups deep into the Green Zone to perform mock-Quests. These were different each year, sometimes retrieving an object an examiner had planted, sometimes returning with the evidence of completing a subjugation.

Her first hunt.

Her first kill.

Mayhap her first injury.

Aye, now there's the rub. Gwen bit her lip until she tasted a hint of iron. She'd never so much as gutted a fish before, and now she was supposed to kill? Not only that, but a living 'being' in the shape of a person?

Could she handle it? She wondered to herself.

What would happen if a creature wounded her?

She imagined herself freaking out, hysterical, unable to concentrate. She who hadn't even so much as broken an arm in all her years - now had to contend with the possibility of a Magical Beast ripping out a chunk of her flesh.

More importantly-

Could she stay cool if Yue or Elvia got seriously injured? Would she freeze, freak out, or flee?

Elvia stayed behind after her shift and waited for Gwen to wake before going home together. The dorm had set up a small celebratory dinner for the victors; when the duo entered the communal dining, cheers and applause welcomed them to the tune of pyrotechnical cantrips.

Dinner was already in full swing amidst a sumptuous feast of Wildland creatures. Rawson had spared no expense, tapping deep into the scullery's budget to make a meal worthy of Blackwattle's prodigies.

Once again Elvia bore witness to the appetite of teenagers, with her fellow students packing away enough food to feed a battalion of soldiers.

“Gwen! Elvia.” A familiar voice called out.

The girls turned to see Jun, comfortable in jeans and an indy band shirt, a drink in each hand. Her future teammate had been the first to Message and congratulate them.

“For us?” she took one off his hands.

“Of course.” Jun had a habit of grinning with only the left side of his mouth, smiling lopsidedly.

“Here we are, ladies…”

A second voice greeted them. It belonged to a young man with a mop of fair hair. Their guest was clean cut in a white t-shirt and jeans, identified by a tattoo on his right hand in the form of an eye.

“Henley Lucas Prince, at your service.” The young man bowed, careful not to spill the drinks he held. Gwen took the stemmed glasses and thanked their new companion. She passed one over to Elvia.

“Gwen Song.”

“Elvia Lindholm.”

“Henley is a Diviner,” Jun spoke on his companion's behalf. “Tier 2 Air, not that it matters. He's pretty handy with Magic Missiles though.”

Divination was the one school that required no particular affinity with elements. Its staple spells, however, were incredibly useful. True Strike, Detect Hostility, Detect Magic, Detect Poison and Find Traps- no other School of Magic possessed so much utility.

The girls' eyes lit up.

“Hey, my eyes are up here,” Henley quipped.

“I can vouch for his expertise,” Jun butted in. "Though not for his personality."

“I can find any lost key within a radius of three hundred meters,” Henley humbly bragged. "And mark any target so that your spells could unerringly strike it.”

Gwen immediately thought of her trouble with the Guiding Bolt - the one imbued with a positive charge. Could Henley be the solution to her problems? If so, she would have to ensure that the boy was suitably loyal to their cause.

Swinging the flute-glass in an arc, she turned her hazel eyes onto Henley's surprised face. Shifting her upper body, shoulders squared for maximum elegance, Gwen unleashed a devastating smile.

Henley gulped, failed by his Divination.

“I think she likes him,” Jun said cautiously, looking to Yue for confirmation.

Yue measured Henley over from head to toe.

“Hey, look but no touch,” Henley's scalp crawled.

"How good's your Divination?" Yue asked.

“Impeccable.” Henley’s voice took on a more flamboyant tone, “Shall I invoke the rite of Seeing and gaze into the uncertain future for you? To scry the invisible and make known the unseeable?”

“Ergh, mate...” Jun's face turned bright pink. For whatever reason, all Diviners develop a tic for the theatrical.

“Alright, what's Elvia thinking?” Yue pulled the surprised girl before her, presenting her before Henley like a ritual sacrifice.

“Detect Thoughts!” Henley announced, a halo of sorts materialised over his head.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Oh no…” Elvia cowered. Where could this possibly be going?

“Ask me anything about yourself…” Henley began.

“Are you wearing a bra today, Evee?” her companions blurted in tandem.

Elvia turned to stone as per the tier 6 Petrify.

Henley’s face went from white to red, then to a deep scarlet.

“Yep, he's the real deal,” Yue noted.

“Very effective, good mana conversion ratio,” Gwen added professionally, sipping her coke.

Elvia turned to her roommates with flashing eyes.

“You guys! Hmmph!” she huffed and puffed as her friends fell about in hysterical laughter. To everyone’s surprise, she slapped Yue across the chest, then slapped Gwen across the buttocks, drawing curious eyes from around the room.

Jun turned to Henley, now polymorphed into a beetroot.

“You alright?”

“Yeah… yeah…” He glanced at his friend cautiously, “How old did you say the healer was?”

“Same age as the others, fifteen I am sure.”

“Alright.” Henley looked sceptical.

“What's wrong?”

“…”

“Well?”

“… She’s not wearing a bra.”

“…”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah…”

“Poor Elvia,” Jun lamented after a moment. “Maybe she should eat what her friends are eating.”

“I feel like I committed a crime,” Henley moped miserably. "She looked twelve or something."

“Chin-up, we’re only sixteen you know. You’re not awakening to something strange, are you? All healers look youthful; it's the Positive Energy.”

“I sure hope not…” Henley shook his head, his mind still thinking of the wondrous Bolivian salt-flats.

“Anyway, that's the five of us then,” Jun continued.“ I’ll head to the Head Office and get the admin done.”

“They need to sign too,” Henley added.

“No problems, I’ll drop by again."

They clinked and finished their drinks.

“For the Field Trip!"

"Aeee!" Elvia dodged an enraged Yue while beside them, Gwen cackled.

Henley and Jun blinked, overcame by unbidden anxiety.

The girls would pass Survival and Orienteering class, surely?

Gwen made her second trip down the familiar hallway to the Cognisance Chamber. It was a rare boon to have another visit beyond one's annual review, for each exhibition of the chamber’s powers drained a significant volume of crystals. During one of their early morning chats at the school gate, Gwen had lamented the early termination of her last visit, and the wisened Principal must have taken note.

She signed in at the counter.

The chamber was the same as before. Gwen took her place in the middle, then awaited the ignition of the illusory enchantment. The room dimmed, space and time folded, then she was once again within the arena of her mind.

Her Evocation sigil glowed happily, pulsating amongst the indefinite space of the Astral Plane, an occasional arc of Lightning broadcasting a spiderweb fissure of Lichtenberg figures.

Right, here goes, she muttered internally.

Gwen summoned the lightning serpent that she had conjured prior. Rather than an electric elver, it was now akin to a ball python; she could see within its translucent body little motes of elemental lightning sparking back and forth.

She reached out with her mind for the space beyond the Evocation nebular, expanding her consciousness, searching for those little black motes that gave off a sickening feeling of vertigo. The light of her Lightning added a dimension to the darkness that had not existed before, though Gwen was confident that this too, was merely an illusion of her mind's making.

She soon rediscovered her quarry.

Unlike her first endeavour, there no longer seemed to be a host of the little grub-like creatures lingering so close to the Evocation sigil, more than likely frighted off by the overflow of energy.

There!

She felt it! That sudden drop in the pit of her stomach like she had stepped into the air. She moved closer, figuratively speaking, finding a whole cluster of the creatures thick enough to form a black void. The cumulative effect of seeing the larval swarm made her immediately nauseous, as though she had motion sickness.

Gwen drew back. It was too much; she could feel her Astral Body shuddering.

Yet, she felt simultaneously drawn towards the vortex of inverted space, where the leech-like creatures seemed to suck in all light, their oily hides darker than black.

What IS this thing? Gwen felt herself haplessly moving forward. Vaguely aware of the fate that awaited the curious cat.

She reminded herself that none of this was real; that all of this was inside her head.

Here was the Cognisance Chamber, after all, and all of its projections were merely manifestations of her Astral morphic field. She had never heard of anyone dying in the chamber; as for what her strange visions portend, there was only one way to find out.

Gwen suppressed an instinctual desire to flee; instead, she pushed herself towards the mass of writhing larva, at which point the vertigo ringing in her head became a screeching static, freezing every nerve in her body.

With a fatalistic air, Gwen thrust her arm down to the elbow into the swarm.

She may as well have assailed a bucket of dry ice.

Shit, did I fuck up? A sudden paranoia engendered within the recess of her mind. The agony was at such a pitch that she felt on the verge of cracking a molar.

Oh, God! She gulped for air, is this what giving birth feels like? Two walnut-sized kidney stones jostling for space?

Below, reflected in the Cognisance illusion, tenebrous, inky liquid from the worms was now seeping into her Astral Body. Within her mind, the torturous pain had grown abstract and exquisite, combining with her anima, seemingly without end.

With a shuddering force of will, Gwen tightened her grip, crushing something with the texture of gelatine.

ENOUGH! Gwen pleaded to the void that she had done enough. She was at her limit.

"Go!"

Gwen released her lightning serpent, a bright sliver of starlight piercing the void. The darkness retreated like a tide, instantly fading into the neutral nothingness of the Astral Plane.

Opening her hand, she saw within her palm motes of darkness, embedded within her flesh, appearing and disappearing at the edge of her vision.

What a horrid, gut-churning, brain boiling trial! But she had powered through. That was the crucial thing. Come bushfire or flood water; she would never doubt her will to get shit done.

The projection waned, indicating the end of her session.

Just in time too. Gwen exhaled. That was a close one.

With great anticipation, she made her way out to collect her Student Card.

What would have changed? What would it say now? She couldn’t wait.

A new element perhaps, maybe another School of Magic?

That would be incredible because only the most talented individuals from the most incestuous Clans produced Mages with two elements.

“Here you are." The instructor returned her card.

Gwen inspected her I.D.

Gwen Song
S.I.D:: 0043598
Evoker Tier:: 2
Elemental Affinity :: Quasi Elemental - Lightning (3)

“Congratulations on the level up.”

What an exemplary student, her expression appeared to say, only three months in and Gwen was already tier 2.

Gwen regarded her card once again, noting the absence of any other significant difference.

She baulked. Had she made a mistake? Were the dark worms sweet nothings?

All that pain and suffering for a misunderstanding? Th-that’s bullshit! Gwen felt cheated by the Cog-Chamber. So much for her fair shake of the sauce bottle! Not even a consolation prize?

“You alright, Miss Song?” The Instructor inquired. Now that’s she’s taken a better gander at the infamous student, she noted Gwen looked somewhat gaunt. Her cheeks were sallow and sunken, the bags under her eyes were puffy and pronounced, she looked as though she hadn't slept for days.

“You are overtaxing yourself,” she said worryingly. “It will do you no good if you collapse.”

Gwen likewise took notice of her diminished state of health.

“I don't feel so g-”

She tried to speak, but her throat choked with ash and dust.

Oh no no no, not again, Gwen felt a sinking feeling, the very same she had exhibited in Hyde Park. Her world began to spin, inundated by that strange vertigo. She fell into the alarmed embrace of the Instructor as she slumped forward, her body falling as though someone had cut the strings holding her up.

“How are you here again?!” Elvia’s voice rang out sharply, full of upset and disappointment. She had been chewing Gwen out for the last ten minutes.

“What kind of training are you doing behind our backs?”

“I am sorry Evee...”

“If I may interrupt...” a masculine voice with a strong European accent spoke beside them. It was the physician who had been teaching Elvia, Dr Lindholm, her uncle. “Gwen, I want you to be very honest with me....”

“I shall...” Gwen replied, a little worried about what would happen if someone found out about her ‘true’ condition.

“Are you... putting yourself on a diet?”

“No...” Gwen replied quizzically.

“Alright,” he turned to Elvia for confirmation, who affirmed Gwen wasn't hiding anything untoward.

“Gwen eats enough for both of us...” Elvia divested sourly.

“...” Gwen blushed.

“Right…. So,” The doctor continued. “Are you sexually active?”

“Uncle!!”

“I am sorry, what?” Gwen almost spat on Elvia's uncle. The complexion of her face flamed amazement.

“Ahem... I am serious.” Elvia's uncle appeared unmoved, making the two girls ashamed for their faux pas. “I mean, have you being out with anyone other than people from the dorm, people who are questionable, perhaps engaging in substance abuse, that sort of thing…”

“No, never. I train all the time...”

“Elvia?” The good doctor doesn’t seem to hold the general honesty of teenage girls in high esteem.

“It’s true, Uncle. Gwen trains like it's her religion.”

“No stranger-danger?”

“...”

“Fine…fine… can you elaborate on your training?”

Gwen told him what she could.

“I see...” he replied, “I fear you are not suffering from mana drain, but in fact from a vitality drain. Perhaps ease off on the exhaustive training? I know its said to develop your mana reserves, but it remains a questionable truism from early Spellcraft theory.”

Gwen searched her memory of the last few months lectures.

“Vitality drain... as in life-drain?”

“Yes,” Elvia’s uncle worriedly answered, “I’d say the symptoms point to a negative energy drain, but you’re tapped into the positive energy plane, so that’s hardly a possibility.”

“That’s...” Gwen paused. She recalled the strange dark mass and the black worms. “Impossible, I’ll be more careful with my mana management next time.”

She was infamous for her horrid mana management, after all.

“I need to take some blood samples if you don’t mind,” The doctor stated. “In case there are pathogenic quasi-magical reasons.”

Gwen nodded demurely.

“Is Gwen going to be alright?” Elvia asked. “Won’t she be too weak to give blood?”

“It’s alright, Evee.” Her uncle replied kindly.

Gwen looked away as the syringe penetrated her dermis. The bloodletting was relatively painless, though she had always been terrified of needles and could not bear to watch. Several vials of blood soon lined the shelves, while Gwen appeared even paler than before.

“That’s all I needed,” Elvia's uncle sealed the vials with labels. “Now for your treatment. Sit upright please, arms relaxed, chin up.”

The doctor hovered a hand over her heart.

“Lesser Restoration!”

“Heal moderate wounds!”

A thrum of Positive Energy flooded her Astral Form. Gwen’s physical body absorbed the healing mana greedily.

Instantly she felt haler; in fact, Gwen felt better than ever.

“She's fit and ready to go," the doctor declared.

“Thanks, Uncle.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Gwen likewise acknowledged, still feeling a little woozy from the sudden influx of vitality.

“Get some sleep,” he advised. “You'll need to have a long rest after you get home. I’ll write you a script, take tomorrow off.”

“Thanks again, Sir.”

Elvia's uncle left.

“Is nothing the matter Gwennie? Really?” Elvia pursued the source of Gwen's illness relentlessly.

“Absolutely. I am fine, Evee.”

“Alright,” Elvia stated softly. She hugged Gwen bodily, burying her small face in her chest like a kitten. “You’re so bony.”

“Yeah... I am starving... I can eat a whole Auroch right now...”

“What happened?” Yue asked, watching Gwen moving onto her third quarter of quail.

Elvia told her of what her uncle had said.

“Training a little too hard, hey?” Yue looked over at Gwen sceptically, who was trying to swallow and drink at once. “If you’re low on mana, I got some spare crystals.”

“Mmmmm mmph..” came the reply.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” both Elvia and Yue corrected her at once.

Gwen swallowed, her stomach bloating like a balloon. She gave it a playful pat.

Gwen was stuffing herself sick because of what she'd seen in the bathroom mirror. For whatever reason, she had moved unknowingly slipped from comfortably slim toward anorexia. Far beyond an athletic litheness, her hipbones protruded, and her ribs were painfully visible. Horrid sight! Impermissible! Even in her last life, working sixty hours a week, she managed to hit the gym enough times between work and weekends to maintain an enviable appearance.

Beauty was vanity, but it was also social capital!

That was why Gwen had ordered a double portion of protein and carbs, hoping to work herself back into a healthy weight. After dinner, she would go for a jog around the neighbourhood!

Her two friends watched as their slim companion slammed down another mouthful.

Elvia touched her chest.
Was this the secret?


Woodland survival took place within an especially constructed Illusion inside the Blackwattle's athletics field, supplemented by Conjured flora. The process was apparently both costly and complicated, and an average school like Blackwattle could only afford enough resources to keep the Enchantment lit for a month at best. As such, within a limited time frame, all eligible students had to complete Woodland Survival 101 or forfeit their chance at distinguishing themselves on the Field Trip.

The course was operated by several Rangers who were sent down from Randwick Barracks, specialising in overland combat, especially recon and scouting missions.

Gwen's eyes lit up when their instructor, a six-foot-four clean shaven Staff Sergeant, presented himself to the students.

“Call me Sergeant Boone.” The military grinned affably.

Gwen's face heated up. Having spent so much time in the company of teenagers, the presence of an actual 'man' made her realise just how much she had missed interacting with adults.

Sgt. Boone had the exterior of a poster soldier from propaganda Vid-casts, owning a stubble capable of grating cheese. His figure was long and muscular. In his tight khaki crew-neck, he resembled an Aussie G.I Joe.

“Gwen, stop drooling…” Yue nudged Gwen in the ribs. She noted that her companion was into strong and stoic guys, which made perfect sense. Gwen perpetual lamented the fact that her father was a useless, unambitious layabout who relied on his women to make his bed.

The exercises the students had to perform were numerous, but for Gwen who had the patience and experience of an adult, field dressing and other basic survival routines provided a scant challenge. Though physically exhausting, it was no drama watching Boone go about his explanations, sweat perspiring on his thick arms.

Indeed, it was no trouble at all - until the class moved onto utilitarian magic.

The students each had to take a hand in makeshift-shelter construction and fire making. They also practised hunting relatively harmless Wildland creatures for provisions, or at least animated Constructs imitating the real-life animals. The illusory field furthermore disorientated the students, assessing their orienteering and tracking abilities. Day after day, the schedules and activities continued. The field even had simulated rain, as well as one time, a bushfire, though Gwen suspected Yue had something to do with it.

By the fourth day, Gwen's confidence was shot.

Since Mages could manifest a variety of practical phenomena, different Schools of Magic made specific tasks negligible and trivial.

Yue, for example, could create fire, but couldn't control flames. It meant that if she lost control of a spell, the entire camp could end up in smokes. Here was where Water Mages, the most common of all Elemental Mages, saved the day. They may not be able to fight very efficiently, but they could conjure clean water for drinking and washing, put out fires, and even effortlessly create mana Shields to block the rain.

Likewise, recruit a good Earth Abjurer or Transmuter, and one had instant shelters. Abjurers created igloo-like dome structures where teammates could sleep, whereas Transmuters could transmute stone and build a two bedroom bungalow. Anecdotally, Boone told them that one-time, his squad had been stuck out in the Wild Lands near the Orange Zone of central Australia. Lacking shelter from the sun, their Transmuter went and dug a small complex underground so secure and well sheltered that the Army opted to convert it into a Forward Operating Base.

Therefore, watching the others busy at work, Gwen and Yue realised a fundamental flaw of Evocation. Evokers were very, VERY good at killing stuff and blowing shit up.

But were otherwise one-trick ponies.

Oh. My. God. Her face burned.
To think she would be ashamed to be an Evoker.

Gwen, Yue and half a dozen others stood and watched those whom they had looked down upon previously going about a dozen tasks at once.

I am sorry, non-Evocation Mages! Gwen apologised profusely. I was too arrogant and ignorant of your talents!

Where Evokers had been the star of every practice session, with every eyes and ear enticed by their loud explosions and cool pyrotechnics; now they just loafed around.

Together with Gwen and Yue, they watched their precarious wood shacks wavering in the wind while someone like Debora transmuted themselves an elevated stone fortress.

Wincing at the tenderness of her blistering fingers, all motivation drained from Gwen. Even with Boone watching her, she couldn't muster the motivation to do more than the bare minimum.

What was worse, Debora, having discovered the girls' ineptitude, had set herself up to flirt with Boone, asking for pointers on how she could strength her Normandy battle fortress. She was the perfect candidate, after all, possessing both Transmutation and Earth talents, the same as Boone.

Watching her sculptures twist and turn into arches and extend to become walls was agonising for Yue, who could do nothing but hack away at the branches with a tomahawk, feeling like a useless NoM.

“The nerve!” Yue growled. “She’s all over Sgt. Boone like a cheap piece of meat.”

“It's fine…” Gwen shrugged. She could see that Boone was uncomfortable and understood the man perfectly well. These were high school girls, and he was a thirty-something adult. Though Debora had the body of a woman, her childish idea of flirtatious sexuality had Boone sweating buckets.

By the time Debora finished, she had created an elevated fortification, a two-metre tall monstrosity with a roof and an observation platform. Boone was heaping praises upon her, and their rival was aglow with otherworldly confidence.

Yue and Gwen observed their shabby stick humpy, breathing out sadly through their noses.

You win this time Debbie! They sobbed dejectedly.

Thinking about Debora's display, the girls noted Transmutation's versatility. Debora could launch a short-range Catapult; she could Barkskin, she could Stone Shape in the future. She could even self-buff and melee her targets with Enhance Ability. Transmutation was an all-rounder talent! Debora was one hell of a useful existence to have on a team, more so than themselves, who were glass cannons.

“I think we looked down on her too much,” Yue confessed miserably. She liked to be honest with her feelings.

“Yeah…” Gwen found herself twiddling her hair, “I feel useless.”

“Erg…”

Elvia joined them on the fifth day, having had separate training for battle triage and field hospital protocols. She was likewise useless at base-building. And so it was that the three girls spent the next week learning a little thing or two about the versatility of the other Schools of Magic.

In the end, the trio managed a 'Pass'.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Combat training and teamwork followed.

On paper, Jun's setup was perfect.

Their scout, Henley, did not need to separate from the team and as such, could enjoy the full benefit of Gwen and Yue’s firepower as well as Elvia’s healing should things come to a head.

Thanks to an augur in their midst, the party could move while maintaining formation, alternating casts between Gwen and Yue to conserve mana, and have Elvia and Henley buff the party. Jun himself served double duty as both battlefield control and tank, using his spells to snare and slow opponents. If they ran into Soldier-tier beasts, Gwen and Yue could attack, and Jun would slow. In the worst-case scenario, Henley and Elvia had their own Shields. Furthermore, as a Cleric, Elvia's mana-intensive Shield of Faith was as strong as Jun's Abjuration Shields, though she could only protect herself.

On paper, their formation seemed perfect.

“Oh my God! I just died, Yue! I just died!”

The training field had transformed into a sparse fire trail thanks to a combination of Illusion and Conjuration, setting the girls to track a moving ‘dummy’ of sorts.

When Yue spied the dummy hidden behind a thick-waisted oak, she let loose a barrage almost on instinct. The effect was spectacularly disastrous.

Her first bolt struck the tree. The second caught on a branch. The third thumped the ground adjacent, sending up a cloud of dust and soil.

The dummy skipped away, but the tree Yue had struck splintered and fell, almost knocking out Jun, who had to hastily erect a reinforced ice barrier.

“You’re fine!” Yue pointed out.

“I know, but if I was slow, or if I SUCKED, I would be a pile of meat under a tree right now. Imagine if Gwen or Henley was in my place.” Jun pointed out coldly, which riled up Yue even more.

The group's training was not unfolding smoothly.

Yue had a knack for firing bolts at whatever came into her field of vision. Even with the divination provided by Henley, she was hitting trees left and right, sending blasts of splintered wood, dust, and assorted debris towards her team.

She should be using shaped blasts, Gwen thought of the physics of her old world and wondered if such a thing could be applied to Spellcraft. Though she had no idea how shaped charges worked. It wasn't like they taught demolition in MBA courses at the University of Sydney.

“So what do you want me to do then?” Yue demanded with exasperation. The woodlands proved a terrible terrain for her Magic, incidentally the very terrain for their incoming Field Trip in the Royal National.

The two senior students halted the party.
The five huddled to discuss better strategy.

“Yue, I am not blaming you or anything, but you need to be aware of overhead obstacles.”

There were reasons why baseline spells were timeless after all. Had Yue stuck to the self-seeking flaming missiles, there would be no problem. Rescinding, however, would halve her damage output, not to mention Yue was adamant she could somehow make it work.

“Alright, let us take ten, and we’ll get back to you.”

Yue fell back and moved to the middle of the party, and Gwen moved up just behind Jun.

“Now Gwen.” Jun indicated for her to follow. “With me, on my mark.”

“Righto.” Gwen followed, feeling adrenaline kicking through her body.

Jun indicated to the Controller to release another dummy. In the distance, the shape of a semi-humanoid creature materialised. It landed mechanically on the forest floor, imitating a kind of half-wallaby, half-goblin hybrid.

“Blast Bolt!”

A blue bolt of electricity ionised from midair and struck the creature before it even moved from the summon circle, obliterating the golem-dummy into bits of splintering wood and animal skin.

“On my mark…” Jun groaned. “On MY MARK, Gwen…”

Elvia appeared downright embarrassed for her two trigger-happy friends.

“Sorry…” Gwen made a face. “I was a bit nervous…”

“Another! Sorry about that!” Jun called out to the Controller.

“YOU GOT THIRTY MORE MINUTES.” A husky female voice called out from the control tower.

“Alrighty then.” Jun turned to Gwen. “On my mark…”

Another dummy materialised, making its gangly way into the woodland illusion. This time they waited until the thing hid somewhere in the woods.

“Alright, here goes.”

Henley’s halo came into being; he scanned the area before him, locating almost immediately the magical signature of the skittish Construct.

“Three O clock, twenty metres, one enemy, small,” the Diviner reported expertly.

The party moved forward as quietly as they could manage, with Henley reporting their quarry's movements every time it shifted positions. Gwen’s Bolts were effective up to forty meters, but her spatial accuracy suffered as distance increased.

“Engaging,” Jun announced.

“Bless.”

“True Strike.”

The group held its breath. The dummy stopped behind another tree, but quickly decided against hiding and leapt from the bush quick as a mechanical wallaby could wallop.

“Guiding Bolt!”

Gwen watched with surprise as her bolt, which had been half a metre off, arc towards the target as if guided by providence. It was the chance-altering effecting of True Strike, which tapped into the threads of possibilities and gave her a sensation of preternatural foresight. From the view of others, it looked as though the thing had run into a bolt of lightning.

'Crack!'

The additional energy from the Blessing spell kicked in. Not far, the positively charged bolt ripped apart the Construct, sending bits of wood all over.

“Finish it!” Jun commanded.

“Lightning Blast!”

Guided by the positive energy planted by her Guiding Bolt, a half dozen bolts arced through the air. Three strikes, three near misses and a mess of electrical explosions later, nought but a smouldering mass was left.

“Ray of Frost.” A crinkle of frost smothered the sparks and cooled the area.

Jun’s cantrip stamped out any potential fires before they could spread. That was something they had to wary of; the Green Zone had little economic activity such as logging, meaning the forest was thick with tinder.

“Good job!” Jun breathed out.

“Nice one Gwen,” Henley appended.

Gwen bumped fists with Yue and Elvia.

That was a good run by any metric.

It demonstrated the absurd advantage Lightning Mages had over those with projectile blasts. So long as Gwen could visualise the manifestation point, she could manifest from the back, the front, the side, above, any which way. It was still safest to shot from above the target though, as electricity tended to arc towards the nadir, and Gwen did not want to risk wasting a spell by grounding it accidentally.

The group switched between Yue and Gwen three more times before their allotted training hour was over. Yue succeeded on her next try, but her final attempt once again overcommitted, started a small forest fire.

“Alright, let's pack it up for today.” Jun made the call, and the five retreated from the practice field. The illusion faded, and they were once again out on the concrete walkway.

“Impressive firepower,” a sultry voice rang out behind them.

“Ma’am.” Jun greeted the figure still in the shadow of the fading illusion.

“AOE problems?” the owner of the voice enquired as an envious silhouette materialised.

The Instructor was a woman who looked to be in her late twenties, slim and professionally attired. She wore a scarlet pencil skirt and a tapered white blouse adorned with a carmine ribbon-neck tie, matched by heels in ruby-red. There was an air of confidence about the woman that made the students instantly attentive, undiminished by her uncommonly gorgeous face. She wore her hair as a piled bun, leaving loose ringlets of red hair to frame her delicate profile.

The Instructor's ultramarine eyes twinkled.

More so than the others, Gwen felt doubly impressed. The Instructor reminded her of herself.

“Ma’am.” The students made their respect known.

“Alesia De Botton, guest Instructor.” Their Instructor extended a hand and crisply shook the student's sweaty palms. “I’ll be looking after your group for the Field Trip.”

“We’re in your care Ma’am,” Jun answered before anyone else, already smitten, much to Yue's dismay.

“Not so soon, Tiger.” Alesia's scarlet smile was full of confidence. “First-impressions are important.”

She waved to the control station, and the field changed from that of the forest to that of a dozen dummies roving back and forth.

“Fire Ball!”

A mote of flame shot out from her fingertips toward the roving dummies. To their surprise, it perfectly flew between the first two, through a gap in the third, and struck the fourth dummy dead centre. An eruption of fire then blossomed like a red-scarlet lotus, rolling across the field.

But there was something odd and unusual about the explosion, for it lacked the heat that was so ubiquitous to Yue’s spells.

When the dust settled, they were shocked to see only ONE dummy destroyed, and all the others merely seared and scorched.

“HOW!” Yue's jaw hung half open.

How indeed! Gwen felt her mind reeling. What she was seeing defied reality!

“That’s a shaped-spell.” Alesia shook her finger cooly like someone tapping the ash from a cigarette. “You need a little bit of Evocation and a bit of Transmutation, a little meta magic training and a little help from an elemental spirit, then it should be manageable with a little practice."

The gathered teens gazed upon their new Instructor, genuine worship welling from their little impressionable hearts. Despite her vague advice, even Gwen was infected by her startling displays of competence.

Evocation... and Transmutation?

Her mind reeled.

A MAGUS!

A REAL LIFE MAGUS!

Someone who was fully competent in TWO Schools!

And the woman doesn't look a day over thirty!


A brave new world was opening in front of Yue's eyes.

This was Spellcraft?! REAL Spellcraft? She couldn't help but wonder what two-bit charlatan magic she'd been learning this whole time.

Alesia’s Fireball was too abnormal, her control too refined. Watching her shaping blasts and comparing it to the Yue's proud Firebolts was like watching a pyromaniac dousing a house against a demolition crew strategically performing a controlled burn.

“That… that was amazing, Ma’am,” Yue muttered bewilderingly, reeling with wonder.

Gwen felt taken back as well. To control an explosion so precisely that it could identify friend or foe? That’s an insane ability! How is it even possible? Alesia's mastery defied Gwen's understanding of physics.

She felt as though they were bumpkins marvelling at pickups all their life seeing a drive-by Tesla. Or worse still, a flat earth loyalist suddenly seeing the curvature of the earth.

More than that though, they were speaking to an actual Magus, someone who had attained their second School of Magic. For the mundane Mage, there was only one way of attaining a Secondary school. One had to relentlessly practice in order to produce a mnemonic-Sigil.

That or one could possess a natural affinity for more than one School. Principally, 'young' Maguses were either blessed by generations of fine breeding, or by the genetic lottery.

Elvia offered a good example, by her account, her mother's side of the family produced healers. As such, her predisposition for the unique blend of Evocation, Conjuration and Positive Energy made her a perfect candidate for a Cleric.

As Alesia was far too youthful to be someone with a mnemonically-forged glyph; she must, therefore, be one blessed by fate.

Across from Gwen and her stunned companions, Alesia regarded her cohort of moon-eyed teens with smugness. Her Master was right in telling her that the younglings responded best to demonstrations of absolute power.

“I’ll be taking you on for the next month or so; all your training time will be with me,” she said, lowering her octave a little to emphasise her solemnity. “I hope we can get along for the duration, and that you will benefit from my guidance.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” The five made a show of sloppy salutes. None of them had experienced Military Service yet.

“Ma’am.” Yue was already breathless with anticipation. “Could you- could you explain what you did?”

Alesia gave them all a dazzling smile, her teeth white and gleaming.

“It’s okay if you’re busy-” Yue hastily added.

“It’s fine.” Alesia turned her palm over. The familiar sight of a dancing flame appeared. Yue had also performed this rite to practice her flame control.

“Put your hand over my flame," Alesia commanded.

“…” The gathering waited for Yue to oblige.

“Ma’am?”

The rest of the party saw the dancing sprite of flame as a magical phenomenon, but Gwen saw oxidising ions burning at well over 600 degrees Celsius.

To Gwen's teeth-gritting terror, Yue obliged. The spunky Asian girl lifted her hand and placed it within the scarlet-orange flame.

“It…” her eyes widened. “It feels like cotton candy! How is that possible? Is this an illusion?”

Emboldened by Yue, the others had a go as well, feeling the flame wrap around their hands harmlessly. The sensation was akin to putting one’s half over wool or cotton.

“Make me some ice,” Alesia ordered.

Jun created an icicle on his palm.

“Try again.”

Jun placed his iced palm into the flame and instantly yelped.

“Arrgg!” He jumped back, noting that his hand was unharmed, but his icicle had melted and that the evaporating water had reddened a finger. “That's a scorching-hot flame!”

Indeed, Gwen acknowledged. To overcome its oppositional element and utterly eradicate the phenomena would imply that Alesia's flame was several magnitudes that of Jun’s Elemental Ice. As observed, the laws of physics in her old world possessed only a precarious hold on her new one.

Alesia withdrew her hand, but the flame continued to float in mid-air. The phenomenon was more shocking than Alesia's absurd control. They watched the fire gently flicker until it took on the silhouette of a Caracal - an orange, flaming tabby yawning at them disinterestedly.

“A flame Spirit!” Yue was on the verge of asphyxiation. "Ma'am, just who are you?"

Gwen and the others were no less shocked than their companion.

An Elemental Spirit was incredibly rare.

As Jun would readily inform them, one in a thousand kills may yield a complete Creature Core. One in a thousand Cores may yield an intact spirit capable of being utilised by a Mage, an act akin to digging for hen's teeth.

Then there was the fact that Magical Beasts also came in different shapes, sizes and degrees of strength; from the weak spell fodder Swarmlings to Titans, to Mythics. One could, therefore, imagine the rarity of an Elemental Spirit, especially a powerful one.

Something clicked within Yue’s head.

“Y-you’re…” The girl was stuttering now. “You’re A-Alesia of the Scarlet Flame! The Coral Sea Witch! The Scarlet Sorceress!”

Alesia’s face took on a vibrant red glow. 'Scarlet Flame' was the name the Tower had used to propagandise victories over the Mermen during the Coral Sea conflict. It was like having one's old laundry aired in public.

“Um…” Gwen and Elvia’s face was blank, but Jun and Henley became equally breathless.

“She’s a tier FIVE Evoker with tier SIX Fire element, Gwennie!” Yue spat in Gwen’s face, her passionate spittle kissing Gwen's cheeks. “Ma’am… I never knew you were also a Transmuter!”

“I am working on it,” Alesia replied, a little less comfortable now that Yue was jumping up and down. She was far more used to the careful respect of military folk than a gushing teenage girl. "My official stats are a decade old."

At least one mystery was solved then - the reason why Alesia could IFF her flames was because she possessed a sapient flame-Sprite. Whenever her flames were affected by the Spirit's innate affinity boost, Alesia's Fire spells took on a bright scarlet hue.

“I need to go report to Principal Bartlett, but I’ll leave you with something to ponder.”

Alesia gesticulated her dominant hand toward the field once again.

“Flaming Hand!”

A torrent of scarlet flames poured over the field in a sixty-degree arc like a flamethrower.

“Flaming Hand!”

A three-pronged talon of flame left from her hand and struck several targets, but missing others.

“Flaming Hand!”

A single torrent of flames, thicker and more potent than the last, not only shot forward but arched across the field like fire from a liquid-fuel flamethrower.

The five watched the spectacle wordlessly.

“It is possible to manipulate the final manifestation through visualisation and mental cues. Even if you are not a Magus, you can still work with other Sigils, all it takes is practice.” Alesia informed them, turning to Gwen. “No need to obsess over Signature spells, instead, focus on the basics. Once you're capable of holding your own, find a Master and learn to craft their Signature Spells before making your own. There's an order to learning Spellcraft which one should not overlap.”

Watching the sorceress, both Gwen and Yue acknowledged that there was something to Alesia’s words. The girls should focus on foundations rather than dream of flying.

“See you tomorrow, upper practice field.” Alesia stretched out her shoulders, her red stilettos clicking musically on the pavement as she stalked away.

“That was amazing,” Yue reiterated after finally managing to close her mouth. “She is amazing.”

“So, who is she?”

“You need to read more, Gwen,” Jun said, “At least listen to the news or something.”

Gwen put her hands up in a gesture of helplessness.

Jun cleared his throat; he was a man who loved expositions.

“Alesia De Botton, the youngest Ordained Senior Mage to participate in the Great Cleansing of the Barrier Reef a decade ago. Possessing the rank of Major, she is a Wing-Commander of a Strike Wing under her Majesty’s Aerial Assault Mages. She made her mark by soloing a General class Lizardman, preserving an entire platoon on the Brisbane Line. She spent the last year of her military service touring the country, setting up safe zones for new migrants."

Stolen novel; please report.

"She was popular in Vid-Casts back when I was in primary school. You can see why. Alesia is both beautiful and badass," Yue added.

“Then what happened? What's someone like her doing here?”

“Don’t know.” Jun shrugged, “She left the military after her mandatory service, but no one knows after that.”

“She's sooo hot.” Henley closed his eyes in remembrance of those childhood propaganda shows, his nose sniffing the air for her perfume. “Maybe she’s doing Military recruitment? I know I would join if she asked. ”

The others shrugged.

“Guess we’ll find out what she’s got in store for us tomorrow,” Yue proposed.

Gwen gazed over to where their Instructor's envious figure stood next to the Principal. Could the old man have something to do with this?

The training that Alesia had in store could be divided into three core components.

Physical training to ‘fortify their bodies’.

Mental image training where they practised modifying their manifests in subtle ways.

Finess training for Yue and Gwen, who had to learn to ‘adjust’ the output of their spell’s power.

During their training, Yue attempted to pry a little into the life story of her idol, receiving nought but mum on the matter of Alesia's private life.

As a part of her teaching, Alesia aided each of them in modifying their existing spells by altering the way they conceived Major and Minor invocations, the verbal and somatic part of spell casting, opening their eyes to new pathways of Meta Magic. Ther lower the tier of the spell, the more malleable it was to the Mage's creative intent, as for higher tiers of magic, the danger of mana burn increased exponentially with each haphazard modification.

The girls and boys were rapt with expectation.

The next month and a half seemed to blitz by now that each day the boys and girls returned to their dorms exhausted and drained. Daily life consisted of nothing but classes, training, eating and sleeping.

When finally, with less than a week to go until the Field Trip, the group was called up to be assessed by the academic board. Though the Field Trip was merely a training camp in the Green Zone, Blackwattle took meticulous care to ensure that students possessed the competency to come home in one piece.

The test took place within a replicated section from the Royal National's infamous Coastal Track. Simulating a trek that led deep into the Wildlands, where unguarded travellers were almost guaranteed to be harassed by quasi-magical beasts greedy for mana crystals or curious for the bric-a-brac of human civilisation.

The team's new formation had Gwen taking the rear guard, with Yue at the spear point. Alesia had the girls systematically measure the range of their spells, finding that Gwen could cover Yue’s range even from the rear. Likewise, until Gwen gained access to Line-based AOEs such as the tier 3 Lighting Bolt, she had no friendly-fire issues with her spatial casting.

“Detect Magic.”

Henley opened with his signature spell. In the real Wild Lands, he would have to alternate between different forms of Detection to scry for various threats.

“Sanctuary.”

Jun made the circular gesture familiar to all Abjurers. A ring of ice appeared over Elvia, floating like a halo. It was a trigger-buff that made Elvia less conspicuous to enemies' hostility. If attacked, the spell would trigger a Frost Barrier.

The Examiners nodded discerningly. They saw good use of fundamentals.

“Bless.” Elvia buffed the party, though as her uses were in field triage, it was unlikely the healer would distinguish herself in practice.

The group silently moved into the illusory woods.

“Twelve O Clock, two targets, small and medium. Yue takes the first strike,” Henley reported through his mind’s eye. “Incoming!”

Henley had been trained by Alesia to recognise distortions in the mana-field. There were minute but traceable patterns to creatures that differentiated them from the ambient magic of the Wildlands.

'Thunk! Thunk!'

The Ice Shields were up before the barbed missiles from the golem-creatures even reached the party. Both pinged off the icy domes Jun conjured with articulate gestures, fading immediately as their purpose waned, further conserving mana.

Now bereft of the element of surprise, the dummies leapt from hiding and made for the edge of the field, using trees as partial cover.

“Firebolt!”

A bolt of fire shot from Yue’s fingertips, forming a parabola not upwards but sideways, curving around the trunk of a tree to strike the larger target square in the back. Her missile erupted, delivering its cargo of unstable energy, sending the thing against an adjacent trunk, dashing it to pieces.

The lesser of the two creatures used this opportunity to reposition.

“Blast Bolt!” Gwen incanted with somatic flair, trying to orientate an abstract point of origin in space. Her gestures reminded her audience of a madwoman conducting an orchestra with invisible cats.

Thirty meters away, a blast of electricity tore the dummy apart.

“Hostiles cleared. We're proceeding to next area.”

The party continued without delay, obliterating each scenario. After thirty-odd minutes, the party remained twenty for twenty, coming nigh to the closing part of the examination.

“Releasing large Golem,” a voice announced above them.

Gwen's party felt the bone throbbing thrum of a large scale Conjuration circle activate, and knew that this was their final test.

“GWARRRR!”

The imitated voice of an Orc Warrior resounded through the field, amplified by whatever magic or mechanism installed within.

As if for full cinematic effect, the group observed several trees blasting apart as the enormous creature balled through the bush, saliva flying every which way. Though the party knew that this was an illusion and that beneath it all was yet another dummy made to soak damage, it remained a terrifying encounter.

“Steady!” Jun shouted.

“True Strike!” Henley incanted, managing to fit one debuff before the creature was almost within melee range. “Bane!”

“Shield Stack!” Jun managed to place three layers of icy shields in an instant. Using reactive, displacing Shields was Alesia's solution to counter the brittleness of Ice Shields.

“Shield of Faith!” Elvia’s clear, near transparent shield covered Jun, giving him full visibility and an additional layer of protection.

“Here goes…” Yue breathed in, incanting rapidly as her Evocation manifested. “Barrage!”

A chain of five Firebolts lit up a pathway of explosions, sending the creature tumbling, dramatically diminishing its momentum. The weight of it, however, maintained its trajectory.

With a crash, a bulbous arm covered with rocky barnacles struck the first ice shield, obliterating it.

“Guided Bolt!” Gwen intoned. A shard of positively-charged Lightning struck the creature, sending a crackle of purple electricity down the massive dummy's illusory face.

The golem raised its fists in an insane pose of anger.

“Lighting Blast!” Gwen's infamous chain-spell began in earnest.

She poured every ounce of her remaining mana into the channel, knowing that this was the last enemy. The exercises Alesia had them perform were well worth their weight. Who would have thought that endurance training could manage mana exhaustion? The textbooks had been sceptical of the fact, but Alesia had proven her hypothesis with tangible results.

The Examiners smiled to themselves satisfactorily. There she goes, they thought to themselves, having seen Gwen perform the very same spell at practice. What a light show! There were few elements as spectacular as Lightning.

Gwen managed to keep her electric-disco active for ten seconds, but it was enough; the dummy had been reduced to a smouldering jumble of clinking metal.

“S!”
“S!”
“S!”

Absolute destructive power.
Perfect scouting and defence.
Sound teamwork and impeccable awareness of one another’s abilities.

"Bravo!" Principal Bartlett's voice called out from the judges' platform.

The Examiners could hardly wait to see what else could be accomplished by Blackwattle's A-Team.

The illusion faded and a sound of applause inundated the athletic field. Gwen searched the crowd and found Alesia loudly clapping with the rest of the Instructors. Their eyes met, and she flashed them a brilliant, dazzling smile.

That woman IS amazing. Gwen couldn't help but be impressed all over again. Just a month ago, Yue almost blew Jun seven ways to hell.

What they could do now was astounding, even by semi-professional standards. The Examination had no metric for endurance, but Gwen knew that Alesia had ensured that with alternating casting and conservative mana usage, the group's expertise was encroaching on the proficiency of first-year military students.

“Congratulations, Students. You have done very well.” One of the Senior Mages stated proudly.

"Well done, Gwen! Yue, all of you!" Principal Bartlett flushed a shade of scarlet.

The party bowed in front of the elevated platform of the Examiners before leaving the field to speak to their Instructor, whose striking profile was even now drawing attention from the onlookers.

“Thank you so much, Ma’am.” Yue tilted her head respectfully.

“The credit is yours,” Alesia replied modestly.

“No Ma’am,” Gwen said earnestly. “We could not have done it without you.”

“Aww~, you’re all embarrassing me.” Alesia’s smile was blindingly attractive, more thanks to the children's intense feelings of gratefulness. “You should have more confidence in your abilities.”

She gave them each a hug, the girls more tightly and intimately, the boys more stiffly for their nervousness. When she reached Elvia, Alesia could not resist but playfully ruffled the healer's hair.

“I am going to miss this,” Alesia commented jovially, pampering Elvia was a treat in itself.

“You’re not leaving already, Miss?” Elvia inquired dejectedly.

“Not immediately. I'll be looking after you guys at the camp!”

"Another fortnight..." Elvia's lips pursed sadly, "Will you be staying on?"

"Unfortunately, no." Alesia gave them all an appreciative smile, "I am sure we'll meet in some other capacity in the future, perhaps at the Tower."

"The Tower?" Yue's eyes were once again aglow with expectation, "Do you work there Miss?"

Alesia's ocean blue eyes fluttered before she gave Yue a quick pat on the shoulder that neither confirmed nor denied her profession. The five stood awkwardly, feeling a lack of closure.

“We will set a new record for you Miss," Jun said finally with a tone of commitment.

"Of course."
"Yeah!"

The rest agreed readily.

Alesia said nothing but told them to stay and watch the other teams. The Path was long and arduous; every experience could unexpectedly open up new detours.

And so, taking their Instructor's advice, Gwen's party remained, receiving congratulations from others who came and went. One by one, they saw how the others faired with their unique team makeups and skill sets.

Of particular note was Debora’s team, utilising an entirely unexpected composition. Extraordinarily, her team had an actual Enchanter in their midst, whose buffs of Bless, Fortify and Endurance provided the team with unmatched fortitude. Likewise, the inclusion of an illusionist scout with access to the Chameleon optic spell provided the team with an excellent spotter. The remaining three members where shockingly, all Transmuters. They utilised a system of mass-buffs to empower themselves an almost ridiculous manner. Debora’s signature version of Bark Skin had now become Bronze Skin, presumably an heirloom spell, providing a nigh-indestructible armour for the caster. Combined with Long Stride and Enhanced Ability, her team excelled in mobility and defence.

In front of a cheering audience, the Transmuter-trio became a team of living battering rams. Debora especially was like a dreadnaught of destruction, punching, kicking, and throwing fifty odd kilograms of catapulted stones wherever they went.

The efficiency of their team was such that they demolished all twenty obstacles in half the time Gwen had taken. It was only against the Ogre dummy that the two lesser Transmuters, whose elements were tier 1 Water and Earth, were stopped in their tracks. It was then up to Debora to combat the creature alone, but with the others supplying snares, illusions, and endless entanglements, she was eventually able to beat it into submission just before the forty-minute deadline.

“A”
“S”
“A”

The examiners gave Debora's team a sterling commendation but also warned her also that there were limitations to close combat. Until she could rise to a tier high enough to possess much-lauded Polymorphic spells, the Acolytes would put themselves in unnecessary danger.

Only two more teams managed to down the Ogre dummy, with the further incident of a group suffering the ‘loss’ of a team member due to a poorly timed Shielding spell.

By the day’s end, only nine teams and a total of forty-five student Mages were eligible for the Field Trip taking place in a six-days time. The students returned to their dorms to rest their weary bodies which had undergone near two months of continuous training, some taking time off to meet with family and friends before they embark for the first time into the Wildlands.

It was only a Green Zone, but the fact remained the Royal National was a place away from the city’s Barrier Shields, devoid of the footfalls of human civilisation, a place of nought but flora and fauna.


They said that Mages ruled the world.

They lied.

They say that Man was the ruler of the Earth.

They were wrong.

They said that Man’s cities were safe behind their Barrier Shields.

They would be gravely mistaken.

Humanity had learnt magic from the forgotten places, but they have forgotten their place in the world. The Modern Man was a wayward falcon who could no longer hear the falconer. It would take another blood-dimmed tide to awash man’s cities before they finally awoke to the truth.

The singular Cardinal truth.

That the strong were the proven victors of tooth and nail, while the weak were food for the wyrms, to exist otherwise would be to disturb the Chain of Being.

They called themselves Rogue Mages. Outcasts. Wildlanders. The Others.

They considered themselves untainted few who were deserving of Man’s great gift from the Higher Beings, the ones who understood the calling. After all, who else could explain why some were gifted with Magic, while others were left to grovel in the dirt?

Clans… Corporations… Nations and their City-States.

All of them were gravely mistaken in a fundamental fact of man's existential creed.

The Mage is the human being. The NoMs are merely simian man-beasts, close genetic cousins, mockeries of the Spellcrafter. Mages, not man, won the Great War. That Mages needed to service and protect their ape-like relates was the great lie that turned the world upside down.

Only a world of Mages, ruled by Mages, for Mages, could survive the usurping ambitions of Magical Creatures and Demi-humans. Only through the Path of the Sorcerer Supreme can the Ubermensch be brought kicking and screaming into the world.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“How close?” A voice asked in the dim light of the glowing glyphs.

A dozen figures, indistinct in their cowls, were watching the cacophony of activity below. They were perched authoritatively over what appeared at first glance to be an open mine of sorts.

“A week at most,” Another voice, a woman’s, answered.

The cowls they wore were enchanted, masking their faces and distorting their voices.

“You are certain the Serpent will come?”

“Of Course.” The third speaker had an illusory display of faces that always changed. The Faceless Man, they called him, the infiltrator of the organisation.

“What of the labour force here? There are some potential candidates.”

They looked down below at the dullard workers below, some hale, some thin as sticks, tireless working themselves to death with faces full of devotion.

“Blood Sacrifices,” The faceless man answered without a hint of emotion touching the tone of his voice. “One cannot make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.”

The gathered watched the activity below silently.

“What of the Tower, what news of Shultz?”

“They are tied up with the Drowner Incident over the North Shore,” Another voice spoke up. “We have ensured their full attention.”

“How did you manage that?”

“We gave the daughter of Senator Spencer to the Queen of the hive.”

“…”

“She was a tier four water Transmuter. What a waste…’ Another commented. “Surely such young talent could be used more effectively elsewhere."

The original speaker shrugged.

“She has two more sisters, just as talented, if not more so. I am aware of our greater goal.”

“Each Mage you waste on these games could bring us closer! Especially a purebred!”

The female figure raised a gloved hand; it was slim, dainty, and aristocratic.

“Enough bickering." Her voice was eldritch ice and honeyed mead.

The rest fell into silence.

“We will not meet again until my say so.” She announced. “Faceless and Edgar will remain here and finish the ritual.”

The gathering bowed or dipped their heads in acknowledgement.

“Your wish is my command,” A smaller figure replied.

“… and Mine Also,” replied the one called The Faceless Man.

The robes of all but Faceless and Edgar began to warp and shrink, twisting sinuously. An endless stream of vermin of different shapes and sizes seemed to escape from underneath their robes until only black cloth remained. Once the enchantment seemed to wear off, the mass of rats, snakes, and gleaming poisonous insects began a grand melee of eating or be eaten.

“…” Edgar was wordless. “Am I the only one dumb enough to attend these things in person?”

“That Is Why You are still YOUNG,” Faceless said in that strange voice of his that was genderless and grating.

“Let Us Proceed.” Edgar nodded at his companion, “Let us see what rough beast, its hour come round at last, is going to be born.”


When the girls had finally returned to the dorm, they were greeted at the door by Rawson.

“I heard the good news."

“Thanks, Mister Rawson.”
“Thanks, Rory.”
“Thank you, Sir.”

Rawson snorted at Yue’s abbreviated intimacy.

“That being said - Gwen, the Principal wants to see you. Can you head over now? It's urgent.”

“Oh?” Gwen's chest tightened ominously. “Any idea what it's about?”

“None.”

“Alright, I better get going then.”

"Want us to come with?"

"Naw, she'll be right."

Gwen waved her peers goodbye, then made for the campus just a block away.

The afternoon sun diffused itself against the horizon, skimming across the ultramarine Sydney sky. Despite the chirping cicadas, Gwen felt goosebumps all over her skin.

This meeting can't bode well. Gwen thought to herself. She had learnt to trust her feelings in her past life, and she had seldom been proven wrong.

The door to the Principal’s office yawned open after Gwen knocked and was told to come in.

An excessive dosage of Chanel No.5 drowned her olfactory senses.

OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT... No, no, no! Her body was already engaging its Pavlovian override. Every hair stood on Gwen’s head, her arms and legs gaining the density of lead. For a moment, Gwen pondered the possibility of fleeing, never to return.

“Come on in, Miss Song,” the Principal's none too friendly voice announced.

Gwen opened the door the rest of the way and met the heavily mascaraed eyes of her mother fluttering in that excessive manner Helena had mastered.

“Hello, Mother.” She managed to squeeze a greeting out between gritted teeth, compelling a smile that struggled to reach her eyes.

Her mother turned her body ostentatiously, twisting in the leather chair like a midday TV reveal. Immediately, Gwen could feel the heat rising on her face and her heart-rate rocket.

Sweet Jesus, what was her mother wearing?!

Helena had on a cream dress practically glued onto her outrageous body. Her cleavage was so exaggerated as to be almost exploding from their hapless containment, threatening to spill with every movement. She briefly recalled that her mother had called this ‘the tension of the moment,’ and then had laughed that her 'poor' daughter was ‘incapable’.

Principle Bartlett already looked like he had been turned on the spit by her mother for a good hour or so, his face was a mask of false sympathy and barely contained irritation.

Helena rose from her seat, her athletic legs stretching the fabric to their utmost limits.

Her mother leaned in for that cheek to cheek kiss. Gwen's spine mechanically bent to meet her almost by reflex, serving as an apt metaphor for her current condition.

This body remained beholden to the old Gwen's mother, Gwen thought to herself: a volatile cocktail of dopamine and adrenaline, fueling what was probably Stockholm Syndrome.

The peck on the cheeks made Principle Bartlett instantly uncomfortable; his wane smile faded altogether.

Her mother regarded Gwen.

“Sloppy and ugly,” Helena announced suddenly, and Gwen felt her mind go blank.

It was like she was watching the whole thing unfold from behind a glass cage, where her conscious mind was trying to beat down the panes to regain control of her rebellious body.

Her mother’s hands moved over Gwen’s uniform, straightening her blouse, tucking the edges into her skirt, furthermore hiking it an inch higher and revealing a bit more of Gwen’s long legs. She flipped over one wayward collar which had recoiled earlier, and pulled on her tie tightly, dextrously re-tying the knot to form a perfect cravat. Gwen’s shoes were not near polished enough, but there was nothing Helena could do about that now.

Helena admired her work.

“I am sorry you had to suffer such a slouch of a student,” Helena remarked with a little too much emotion in her voice.

“It’s fine. It’s fine…” Bartlett waved his hand dismissively.

Helena retook her seat. Gwen stood beside her stiffly.

I need to get out of here before this body goes hysterical. Gwen thought, her legs threatening to give out from the tension. As much as she willed it, however, her body refused to budge.

“So, Gwen dearest…” her mother cooed. She liked her assonance long and sensual. “Why was I not informed?”

“I- In...." her tongue was stuck in a barb wire snare.

“Informed me that you were a rare and wondrous Quasi-Elementalist, hmm?” Her mother’s voice took on a higher note, “One of the best in the school your Principle said…”

“Mother…” Gwen had a dozen explanations, but all her concentration was spent trying to suppress her tears from spilling. The back of her throat was a mess of taut muscles. “I… Er… I… wanted to…”

Oh for fuck’s sake! Gwen’s rational mind screamed and raved.

“Now now, Mrs Huang.” Bartlett tried to regain some control of the situation. It was self-evident by now that his student did not desire her mother's company. “Gwen has her reasons I am sure, but let me remind you before you challenge her decision, that the Tower has guaranteed the right for any Acolyte to live and study independently from their family.”

Bartlett’s words made Helena’s eyes narrow, giving her irises the look of a tigress eyeing down an audacious prey. The smokey makeup brought out the green in her eyes and made them far more intimidating than they usually appeared.

“I could hardly hope to infringe on Gwen’s decisions,” Helena spoke in a way that made Bartlett sweat. “That's why I am here in person.”

“Oh?”

She turned again, exposing herself a little dangerously before drawing from the floor a handbag. From within she produced what appeared to be a letter. The envelope was gold trimmed, embossed with a crown on its frontage. Bartlett’s brows furrowed and realised why this damned woman had made herself appear before him in person.

“Lilith's College for Girls.” He breathed out with a defeated look.

“Yes, I see you recognise the crest,” her mother intoned.

She opened the envelope, withdrew a tri-folded letter made of thick, scented paper, then began to read out loud in that husky voice of hers.

“We cordially invite Mrs Gwen Song, daughter of Helena Huang and Morye Song, eldest Grand Daughter of Magus Huang, Magus, Senior Enchanter, to attend the college for the duration of her academic career until graduation… ”

Helena stopped reading.

“You know what this means,” she roasted Bartlett with a tone of incontestable fact.

“What… what does it mean?” Gwen asked weakly beside them.

“It means…” Bartlett's voice softened “It means that I should recommend your retraction from our school so that you may begin your attendance at Lilith's College for girls in February.”

“Why?” Now Gwen was beginning to feel genuine panic. Leave the school? Matters were escalating far beyond her wildest imagination.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Bartlett’s appeared as one crucified by his conscience.

“One of the best facilities in Sydney, in Australia, Gwen. The most talented instructors. Endless resources that we cannot possibly begin to provide…”

“I don’t care about that…” Gwen muttered.

“Don’t be such a sulking child…” her mother scolded her.

Helena pinched her.
THE BITCH PINCHED HER!
Gwen was aghast - but her body responded with the paralytic haplessness of a frog being stung by a hissing viper.

“Of course it matters.”

“Gwen, I am not forcing you to make a decision,” Bartlett continued. “But it is in my duty as your educator to tell you that this is a turning point.”

“Gwen…” Bartlett continued. “If you graduate from Lilith's, you could be exempt from military service. What's more, you are guaranteed to attend University. If you were to graduate magna cum laude, you could be sent to a tier 1 city! You could live your adult life in London, or New York, or Shanghai!”

Exempt from Military Service? Go to a Capital city?

That was something none of her friends ever consider seriously. To live in the tier 2 cities of humanity had three certainties: death, taxes, and military service, all within the Frontier. The government propaganda had made it very clear that no one was exempt.

“Miss Song…” The Principle seemed obliged to show her the whole hog, his tone becoming more solemn than before. “Think of it Gwen, to be able to live safely in the capitals of Spellcraft. You don’t have to risk your life for gainful employment or live under the shadow of an invasion. You could perhaps ascend to a position we could only dream of, become a Magus, perhaps a Magister!”

The Principal's face was red with excitement now; even Helena was breathless at the prospect. Life in a Tier 1 city, in the absolute safety of the White Zones, was something those who lived on the Frontiers dreamt of constantly.

“You could then attend the best Universities in the world. Cambridge, Oxford, Fudan. I can’t advise you to stay, Gwen… I can’t.”

Gwen shuddered. Leave Blackwattle? Her immediate thoughts were of Yue and Elvia, who had worked so hard with her to achieve their enviable positions.

Yue, whose bluster made her laugh and who helped her through that terrible ordeal, who stood by her side when she was feeling suicidal and hopeless. Elvia, her little angel, her faery who brought solace to her heart and studied hard to heal her wounds.

Now her mother, her damned mother, came in here thinking she knew best, trying to take away from her the happiness that she had worked so hard to build for her self.

But Gwen could not deny the truth that was behind Bartlett's words.

Would she have said no, half a year prior?

Would she have said no if she awoke to the talent and power she possessed but a year earlier and was therefore naturally slated for a school like Lilith's?

The answer was No.

She would have welcomed Lilith's with open arms!

Both Gwens within her: the logical, rational, mature-minded Gwen who was pragmatic and realistic, as well as the teenager she had never known; the alone and vulnerable and terrified child - screamed for her to accept.

Bartlett and Helena watched Gwen standing there unmoving, her eyes downcast and staring into the middle of the mahogany table. The tick-tock of the grandfather clock reverberated across the room like mallets striking their mind.

It had been only a minute, nothing more; but Helena wasn't known for her patience. She was never one for waiting on others, and the fact that Gwen could not decide on something so SIMPLE, so OBVIOUS, grated on her nerves tremendously.

“Could you give us some privacy, Magus Bartlett?”

The Principle nodded before making for the door. It closed with a soft click, followed by the sound of a long, drawn-out breath.

Helena turned to face her daughter, standing before her still as a statue. She surveyed her scion, measuring the worth of this fruit of her loins.

Her daughter had dark, voluminous hair neither styled nor kept sufficiently conditioned, but still tumbled from her head like an inky waterfall. Gwen's face was handsome, defined, a trait of her father's. Her brows that cried out for a plucking nonetheless arched gracefully, her un-mascaraed lashes long and thick. She had a straight, aquiline nose that was graceful and tapered, with well-formed, sculpted lips that were naturally fleshy and plump. Helena loved Gwen’s eyes - they were her own. Sometimes emerald, sometimes amber, hazel under the dim light. Gwen's countenance was fair, a little fierce for Helena’s liking, but symmetrical and pleasing to the eye, both from afar and in close inspection. Her daughter possessed a swan's neck that was long and graceful, extending from her sharp shoulder blades and ending in a shallow dimple. Gwen's shoulders were toned and a little too athletic, which would have to go, though her long arms were slender and unobtrusive. Helena's gaze fell lower and measured with dissatisfaction that her daughter would not be dazzling anyone with her unobtrusive bust, at least not without a certain amount of padded charlatanism. They were a good shape though, and there were potential in perhaps another year or two. Her eyes fell even lower to Gwen's lower limbs; these were Helena's pride and joy. Gwen had long and slender legs that made her move and walk effortless grace. They were perfect, be it her tightly formed buttocks or her rounded thighs, or her incredulously extended calves and ankles.

Helena smacked her lips enviously; she could scarcely summon the sympathy for her poor, foolish daughter, wasting her time here with these plebians.

Doesn’t she understand the weight of her talent, the gift of her otherworldly beauty?

The men who enrolled in these elite schools, their sons and their nephews, the Senators, the C.E.Os, and most importantly - the Magus and Magisters with their protégées, saw Lilith's as the source of their spouses.

They would go mad for a girl like her.

Helena knew this because she had been there. She was the top girl. SHE was going to have that life of being paired with the scion of a great house, of becoming someone of import. She could imagine it even now, the life she had missed out by impulsively marrying Gwen’s father because of a spiteful relationship with her father and brother.

But Gwen could have all that. She hated to admit it, but Gwen was better equipped than herself. Gwen was a rare Quasi-Elementalist. She was a beauty. She was born to be put on a pedestal. Didn't Gwen desire a comfortable life? She could marry into one. Was becoming the young wife of a Magister impossible? No. Not for her daughter. Not with the gift of her blood and talent.

Helena's cleavage rose and fell; her eyes sparkled like jewels.

“Gwen.” Helena’s voice was a siren's song. “You know what is good for you.”

Her mother’s hands enveloped Gwen's fingers. Helena's hands were flaming hot, Gwen’s cold and shivering.

“Please, Gwen,” she said again. “This is for your own good.”

Helena gripped her daughter’s wrists in the manner of twin shackles.

No!

No, I am not going anywhere, you fucking bitch. Gwen screamed into her mind. Helena was nailing her to some God-forsaken cross of personal wish-fulfilment. Indignant fire rose from within her, ignited by a bolt from the blue.

MOVE IT! She commanded her sleeping body. MOVE IT, YOU USELESS WAIF!

Gwen's Evocation sigil was suddenly ablaze, sending a torrent of energy to flow through her elemental gates, blasting across the conduits in her body.

OH SHIT!

A surge of cobalt-white lightning erupted from her hands and struck her mother full in the chest. For a second, comically, Gwen thought she could see her mother’s skeleton.

As a trained Mage, Helena's body resisted Gwen's untamed lightning, even so, Helena was momentarily stunned. Below Gwen's mother, Bartlett's leather chair erupted, spurting blue-white plasma. The carpet singed as a Lichtenberg figure carved itself into the cashmere wool.

More importantly, Gwen's Letter of Acceptance burst into flames.

When Bartlett intruded into his room; what the Principal saw made him choke.

The annoying levitation-mother had been thunderstruck, her perfect hair now a mess of standing static. Her cream dress soiled by burns that had disintegrated some of the fabric. Furthermore, Barlett's antique visitor’s chair had gone the way of the dodo.

“Are… are you all alright?” Principal Bartlett enquired worriedly. That chair was one of a kind!

Gwen meanwhile was beginning to realise her monumental fuck up. Her mind had become a blazing white world of unfiltered panic. She had gotten her body back, but now she had sailed up shit creek without a paddle.

How would Helena respond? Threaten her? Sue her? Strike her down? Her mother was vain and proud and sometimes foolish, but she was no idiot. She was the most manipulative and scheming person Gwen knew by far.

“Wonderful,” her mother suddenly spoke, a little ash ejecting from her mouth.

What? Gwen realised this was not a good sign.

I concur, What? Bartlett echoed Gwen's thoughts.

“What a wonderfully channelled blast of Lightning, Gwen! Such pure, raw affinity.” Helena commended before taking her hands from her daughter’s wrists, leaving two black imprints.

Gwen looked at Bartlett, who appeared equally creeped out.

They waited for Helena to continue.

“You attacked me, dearest,” Her mother lamented sadly, her voice calm and collected. “You, an unordained Mage, a mere neophyte, attacked me, a Sanctioned Mage and your parent. Unprovoked.”

Bartlett felt his perfect beard unravel at the audacity of such an accusation.

“Now… Now, Ms Song,“ he interjected.

“Mrs Huang.”

"Mrs Huang, Gwen is not-"

“You better shut the hell up, right now, you government plebeian!” Helena’s catty response cracked the air like a whip, her breath both fire and brimstone.

Principle Bartlett fell silent, his face turning the colour of cod liver. The woman was a mere Fire Evoker, and he was an accomplished Conjurer. If she weren't a parent - he wouldn't have minded teaching her a lesson in manners.

“Gwen,” her mother continued, smoothing out her ruined hair with her hands.

“You OWE me. Gwen Song.” She spat finally from between gnashing teeth. “If you at all want to continue your career as a Mage. You better start listening to those who care about you.”

Her mother stood, then straightened her dress, now worse for wear. She raised a hand, and from thin air materialised a cream and chequered coat.

A Ring of Storage… Principle Bartlett noted. An uncommon thing in the Frontier cities. Only the wealthy and the influential could possess such incredulous magical items. He was a Magus, a senior one at that, but not even he wore such Magical Items with such casual ease. His Ring was assigned when there was a mission; it was not a personal item. Was Helena a member of a notable House? It made no sense. Her daughter was as poor as a church mouse!

“I am leaving,” Helena declared coldly. “Lilith's or no, I expect to see you at your Uncle's manor this weekend; Kwan has requested to see you. You brought this on yourself, ungrateful child. I did my due diligence as your mother.”

Then like a departing storm, she was gone.

Gwen and her Principal met each other from across the room.

“I am sorry about the chair, Sir,” Gwen apologised, unsure of what else to say.

“Think nothing of it.” Her Principle shot her a worried look. “I’ll do what I can for you Gwen, but- ease up on the mana leaks.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Bartlett watched the girl amble dejectedly from his office before he sat in his surviving chair. He could imagine Helena holding a grudge with the tenacity of a Gila's genetic memory.

Once outside, Gwen loosened her tie, pulled out her shirt, then made her skirt comfortable.

Her uncle's Manor.

She hadn't seen uncle Kwan since the family broke up.

Her uncle’s compound was in North Sydney, not far from Kirribilli. She recalled that the place had been vast and pretentious, a brute of a building with an undeserving view of Sydney Harbour.

“Or else,” her mother had warned.

Rationally, at least for now, she had no other options, Gwen acknowledged bitterly.

She sighed, feeling more tired than ever.

It didn't take a Diviner to know her near-future was going to suck.