The Academy's Test

“I couldn’t imagine not remembering anything.” –The Red Pyramid, Rick Riordan 

Fourth day of the Sixth month in the year 1385

I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. I had finally done it.  All my years of hard work were paying off.  I was going to graduate as a full-fledged sorcerer.  I had made it through the academy and was on my way to being one of the greatest sorcerer’s of all time.  There was only one little thing in my way.  My trial.

When a wizard graduates they go through one final test, a test that will push you to your limits and make sure you are worthy of the respected title of Sorcerer for the State.  Basically, you are supposed to be able to use your years of knowledge and learning into proving without a doubt that you know what you’re doing.

 

My test is next week on my 20^th birthday.  All I know about it is that it is different for everyone, and you won’t know what it is until it happens.  I have heard rumors though. Of course there is the usual, you have to face your worst fears and defeat them, or you are in a magical scenario that shows you a magical creature attacking your home and you have to defeat it.  They also say that half of the students that go through it die.  I’m trying not to think about it. 

What I am trying to do is prepare in any way I can.  My   nights are filled with words dancing across a page as I desperately try to remember all the spells contained within my books.  And when I do sleep, I dream of monsters attacking those that I love.  It’s not a very conducive environment for the calm that is needed for proper studying. 

When I ask the teachers what I should expect, they avoid me.  “No amount of studying will help you, Gillian.  The trial does not test your book knowledge, it tests your ability to think quickly.  Just get rest and know you will be at your absolute limit.”  Helpful, right?  But I think they are right, at this point more studying will only hurt me. 

To help me calm down, I go to my best friend’s home.  Thalias lives outside the academy’s gate with his family.  His father works as a gardener for the school’s grounds so Thalias and I grew up together.  My favorite place in the world is their home.  It is warm, and comfortable, and happy.  The perfect place for me to prepare for the hardest thing in my life. 

I have been at the academy since I was seven years old, they took me in when the orphanage couldn’t handle my magical outbursts.  My parents died when I was really little, and the teachers here think that my magical abilities became apparent early because of the trauma.   Orphanages don’t really like it when you start levitating the other children.  When I first came they were at a loss of why I showed signs of magical ability so young.  Most children don’t start showing it until they are about 10 years old, and even then it is small talent like a few sparks of the fingers or making a toy dance. Definitely not making eight children hover above the floor.  My teachers thought that my subconscious must remember what happened to my parents and that’s why it manifested early.  The truth is, I don’t remember it subconsciously, but consciously.  I know exactly what happened and it has helped me grow strong.  That night is what gives me the reason to want to protect people with my abilities. 

When I was three my mother and I went to the market to buy food for the week.  My father was from a wealthy family, and we lived in comfort.  I never realized anything that happened, I just knew that if I didn’t get what I want I would throw a fit.  As my mother and I were walking home my father surprised us and met us just outside the market.  I was happy, I loved my father the most.  He was so strong in my eyes.  We walked home, my parents were holding my hands and my father carried my mother’s basket.  The sun was setting over the Western mountains is a beautiful display of color.  Two men walked towards us on the road and my mother grabbed my hand more tightly.  They had swords, which is not an uncommon thing, I kept looking at the sunset, and then my father stepped in front of me.  The men talked to him, telling him that if he did not give them all of their wealth, they would murder him.  My father refused.  I still remember how the sword looked in my father’s back.  My mother picked me up and tried to run, but she soon fell to their swords as well, I was underneath her and couldn’t move, they must have thought me dead.  I couldn’t see much, but I felt them moving my mother, probably searching her for valuables, and then they left.  All I could do as I lay there was think that there should have been something I could have done.  I didn’t cry and I didn’t talk when they found me.  I didn’t talk for two years in the orphanage. 

By the time I was six I was comfortable in the orphanage and I had started to understand what really happened that day.  Those men killed my parents because we were wealthy and they were greedy.  I then decided that I was going to grow up to make sure I could protect people from ever having to go through what I did.  And that’s what I did. 

I found my talents and through the academy I have grown to be a sort of prodigy there.  I don’t think of myself as a prodigy, just someone who had more time to practice.  This alone gives me the help I need to pass the trial.

Eighth day of the Sixth month year 1385

Thalias’ mother, Angelina, makes us breakfast, she is the best cook in the whole world.  I am going to get fat staying here, which probably won’t actually help me in my trial.  Thalias and I are doing what we normally do, hitting each other in between stuffing our mouths full.  That’s when there is a knock on the door.  Angelina goes to the door, looking at us over her shoulder and tries to tell us to stop slugging each other.  When she opens the door she bows, a guard stands in the doorway wearing the crest of the academy.  He hands her a note, then walks away.  She walks toward me with a smile on her face, I can tell she is proud. This is why I love this house, because I can feel what it’s like to have a mother’s love. 

I open the letter and it reads. 

Gillian,

For the ceremony of your graduating trial, be at the main foyer of the citadel on the Eleventh at dawn.  Bring nothing. 

Waste of a good envelope if you ask me.  But there is one thing it did do. Make me so nervous I felt sick.  The rest of the day I spent lying on the floor in the room I was sharing with Thalias, curled in a fetal position.

 

Tenth day of the Sixth month year 1385

My feet get worn out from pacing.  In my head is swirling all of the rumors I have heard over my years at the academy.  They are so loud that I can’t hear Thalias saying my name.

“If you talk about it, you’ll feel better.  Tell me what you are most worried about.”  He looks at me with worry in his eyes.  I have always been good at reading people. 

“It’s not that I’m worried about something in particular, just terrified about not knowing what is going to happen.” I reply, never ceasing in my pacing.

“What could be the worst thing you can imagine?”

“I don’t know…” he finally got me to stop moving, “I guess, I am worried about failing.  Like what if I am not good enough and I go back to being nothing, and losing my dream forever?  Nothing could be worse than that.”

Thalias scoffs, “Well that’s easy to fix then.  You won’t fail.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know you,” he looks determined now, “and there is no way you can fail.  You are the greatest sorcerer to ever come out of that place and you will be one of the greatest of all time.” 

I stare at him.  “How did I get so lucky to have a friend that believes in me as strongly as you do?”

“That I can’t tell you, sure is a mystery.” I can tell he is proud at my question. “Now get some sleep, or I will start throwing things at you because I need sleep.”

He rolls over on his bed and blows out the candle, our only source of light.  I lay on the mattress his mother put on the floor for me and stare up at the ceiling.  Sleep never comes to me.

 

Eleventh day of the Sixth month year 1385

I stand outside the gate bouncing on my heels.  Whether from nerves or excitement I don’t know.  When the gates open the headmaster is there to take me to the ceremonial chamber.  We walk in complete silence, I don’t dare ask him any questions.  Especially since the last time I talked with the headmaster I was pleading my case for letting loose wild foxes in the girl’s dormitory.  He leads me to a part of the complex that I have never been in before. I holds the teacher’s rooms and none of us have dared go there.  We go to a small building made of black rock.  The door is ornate and depicts a magician of some kind underneath a huge tree.    I don’t look at it long because the door opened upon our approach.  As we enter we are surrounded by blackness.  A heavy cloak is placed on my shoulders and I am led by the hand forward.

When we stop I am asked to kneel down.  The floor is cold stone and I am trembling.  Then a man starts to speak, the blackness remains.

“We are here today to witness the graduation ceremony of young Gillian Westfall.  Let the ceremony commence.”

All of a sudden the room is filled with light.  I am in a large amphitheater and all of my teachers are sitting on benches above me.  They wear black cloaks and hold somber expressions.  I do not recognize the man at the center, he must be a visiting sorcerer that graduated before me.  He stands in front of the headmaster who is sitting in a large chair. 

“Gillian,” the man proclaims, “Are you prepared for the test?”

I want to answer that no I am not, no one has even told me what I am supposed to be doing, but luckily my brain saved me and I said, “I am.”

“Very good.  Your test is yours, and yours alone.  A spell will be placed upon you so that you will experience something inside your head.  Nothing will be of danger to you, but the events will seem very real.  Bring forth the potion.”

A man in a dark blue cloak walks up to me and all I can think about is why they are using such formal language. Just another sign that I really was losing it.  The man hands me a flask and motions for me to drink.  The metal is warm as it touches my lips and the liquid inside tastes just like Angelina’s cinnamon rolls.   

Then I am standing on a road.  The road is like any road in the kingdom, dirt, worn down from wagon wheels, and surrounded by mountains.  There is no one around me.  I start to walk because I feel like standing there is not a good idea and I run into a young woman on the side of the road.  She is selling jewelry, but none of her charms compares to the beauty that shine from her.  She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I move towards her without even realizing I urged my feet forward.  She smiles at me but says nothing.

I look at her wares. They are simple enough, nothing that a noble would buy but something that would be seen as very valuable to a poorer individual.  I glance up at the woman and ask her how much she is selling the necklaces for.  She smiles again.

“That depends on what you are not willing to part with.”  Her voice is rough, not the sweet voice I was expecting.  She lifts her hand to my face with one finger pointed at my forehead and a burst of light shatters my vision.

Then I am at my home town.  It looks that same as I remember it, and again I am grateful for what I can remember.  I stand outside the west gate, near the place where my parents were murdered.  I look around but there is no one there, even the city seems dead, which is odd considering it is the middle of the day. 

“I wonder what this place holds for you.” The woman’s rough voice says from behind me.  I turn quickly and she is standing there, but this time she looks like an old crone. Her voice is much more fitting. 

“Who are you?” I demand.  I start to gather magical energy to my hand and start thinking of a defense spell.

“No one of consequence.  Tell me what happened at this place.”  She walks up to me to look straight into my eyes.

“My parents were murdered here when I was three.” I tell her.  I don’t know why I said it, this woman is a stranger who has probably placed a spell on me, but something in her eyes compels me to answer truthfully.

“Such a sad event, yet I feel power from this place.  What do you remember of that day?” Usually when someone asks me that question, I play off being sad and simply say that I was three at the time, but now I know that magic is at work because I cannot take my eyes off of her. 

“Everything.”

She smiles. “Such a sad experience. It must be very painful.”

My voice catches, “Of course.”

“You must want revenge on the people who murdered them.”

“I have never sought revenge.” I say immediately, “I only want to be able to help people so what happened to me won’t happen to others.  I wish to bring peace.” There are power in my words, it feels very similar to when I am conjuring magic.

The old crone smiles again, this time showing me brilliant white teeth.  “If you would like, I could take the pain away.”

“I don’t want to forget. That day gives me purpose and it has made me who I am.”

“You are wise beyond your years.”

Then the world went dark.

. . .

When I woke up I was lying on the ground.  My knee was bent at an awkward angle and by back was cold from the stone.  The light had dimmed in the room but was not out completely.  There was silence. 

Since I probably looked like a fool, I tried to hurriedly stand up.  Someone caught me as I fell over and helped me balance on my feet once more.  I was dizzy and the world seemed a little blurry.

“Gillian Westfall, how do you feel?” At least their priorities were on my health at the moment.

“Dizzy, and nauseous.” I mumble. My tongue seems heavy and I can’t move it. 

“Take him to the infirmary so he can rest.”

I am then lead away.  This walk goes by in a blur and the next thing I know I am waking up and the teacher that I was in most classes with.  She was a glutton for punishment it seems. 

“Gillian are you awake?”

“Yes, I think so.” I was still in a daze, but not as much as coming out of the ceremony.

“I have news.” My heart skipped a beat.  This was the moment my fate was decided. 

“You passed.”