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Gwen Song awoke to the melody of _Grande Valse_ blaring with the strength of an air siren. Reflexively, she groped for her smartphone, making the familiar sliding gesture to unlock. Instead, her vague fingers encountered the strange sensation of physical buttons. A moment of frantic fumbling ensured, then a sound began to stream: _“BBC World Service, September 21st, 2001: An ancient Red Dragon has destroyed a section of the London Metro, resulting in over two hundred dead and thousands injured, paralysing the city. Authorities have linked this latest incident to similar occurrences involving Magical Creatures carried out by the anti-tower cabal known as Spectre- Magister Livingstone, Mayor of London, calls the latest terrorist attack a day of infamy…”_ _More terrorism_ , Gwen groaned wistfully. Finally she found the mute button. Slowly, synapses dulled by Moet & Chandon ignited one by one. _Red Dragon?_ _What’s that, a new euphemism for WMDs?_ _Wait—_ Her mind performed a double-take. The date was correct. It was September twenty-first — but the year appeared to be missing a decade and a half. It had been 2017 when she stumbled into bed, but the report had said 2001. Regaining a measure of lucidity, she inspected the brick in her hand to confirm the date, only to be bemused by an alien device constructed of ceramic-seeming material, with a screen that looked nothing like back-lit LED. The only clue that it may be a Nokia was the bloody ringtone. She turned the device over. No logo. No ports. No battery sliders. This isn’t her iPhone. Her brain throbbed. Could she have been roofied? In her office, at her very own corporate party? That would be absurd. Even if she had, there were security guards and staff who were sober enough to send her to a hospital. Concurrently, her joints were on fire. She was dizzy and light-headed, hungry and hollowed out. Additionally, the sickening sting of digestive acids lapped at her throat. But for now, she chose calm over panic. She inspected her surroundings. Firstly, she was sleeping in a single bed. Secondly, she wasn't naked or anything. She wore her PJs, although, for some reason, her silk nightie had transformed into coarse cotton. A sloppy, cheap-looking duvet covered her body. The print was vaguely familiar—a horrid, half-faded floral design commonly used for IKEA curtains. The bedroom felt claustrophobic; the ceiling low and oppressive. Recognition dawned. Isn't this her old apartment? From when she was a kid? Why was she in the bedroom of her adolescence? What had happened to her bayside home? Her French-windows? The bedroom to which she now occupied had existed only in the distant past. She had been in high school, living with her divorced father. “Is this a lucid dream?!" she muttered to herself. Her voice! It was youthful and sweet and without the abuse of all-nighters, scalding coffee, and copious amounts of alcohol. She closed her eyes to think, but the memory of her last conscious hours was a scrambled mess of whites and yellows. Slowly, in fragments, recollections came. Here was her old home. Her original home. The apartment she’d grown up in as a girl-child. Over yonder was the fold-out desk she had piled her clean laundry on. Next to the cabinet was the basket for her dirty laundry. To her right was her study desk, which her father sometimes used as a Mahjong table. She could even see her study guides. But where she expected volumes on chemistry, physics and literature, she instead saw thick bound volumes with strange names. _Allenberg’s Primer for Astral Theory?_ _Otsu's Primer for Evokers?_ Without warning, her head split. "Ow!" A jackhammer ripped through the interior of her skull. Memories flooded her brain, bloating its synapses so that she felt as though two fingers were pressed against her optic nerves. If anything, the sensation was akin to the time she had forgotten to take her quinine tablets in the Amazon and had malaria shitting on her brain for a week. _I have an aptitude test today._ A stray thought boomed across Gwen's consciousness. _No, you don't,_ Gwen dissuaded the voice in her head. _You just had a staff party where you celebrated your consultancy's second anniversary. You drank and danced and forgot all about what champagne could do to a woman who was no longer in her twenties._ Unbidden, another thought solicited her stream of consciousness, accompanied by gut-wrenching anxiety. Her chest convulsed. She couldn't breathe. _Today is an important day._ _I need to go to the Awakening Test._ _Mother will be upset if I fail._ "Ugh!" Gwen fought back the acid reflux threatening to escape her oesophagus. _Jesus Christ_ , she cursed. Was she now suffering from paranoid schizophrenia? Dr Monroe never said anything about MPD disorders! "Shut up!" she threatened the ceiling. The voice ceased. She ran a hand over her forehead and found it drenched with perspiration. "Alright," she whispered to herself. Her mind remained sceptical even as her senses seemed helplessly invested in this new reality. Cynically, she pinched herself hard on the thighs until a welt appeared and her eyes moistened. "Shit," Gwen affirmed her worst fears. “Why is this happening?" Frustrated, she rubbed her eyes. Her fingertips came away with crusty chunks of dried mucus, which she crushed between her fingers. _Shit_ , had she been crying? _Click._ Her internal discourse was interrupted by an intruder. Instantly, her blood ran cold. She was trapped in a strange parallel world, who or what could be coming through that door? The door opened. It was her brother, Percy, who peeped in with a face still drugged with sleep. “Dad called and said you have to get up now,” he informed her. “It's your PMAE today.” She quietly regarded the boy, mindful of any buttons or cross-stitching that would reveal a skin-suit. Percy was her brother, an athletically-inclined adolescent with olive skin and large luminous eyes. He had the thick lips of their mother, taking after the family's mixed heritage. She pulled the cover over her collarbones and scowled at her brother. What kind of an idiot barges into the room of their teenage sister? She was hardly dressed for decency. "Oi! Get out of here!" she yelled angry nothings even as Percy yawned disinterestedly. With her brother gone, she pulled herself out of bed. A full-length mirror ran the length of her built-in-wardrobe. Now that she was up, she had to ensure that all the pieces of her body were present. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. What she saw was the reflection of a dark-haired girl who was a little underfed but reasonably proportioned. She had the pale skin and high cheekbones of her mixed father but had inherited her mother's eyes. Her striking irises, afflicted with central heterochromia, possessed an amber core bound by a ring of dark emerald, hinting at her cosmopolitan origins. Gwen pulled on her earlobes, watching her simulacrum wince. No luck. It wasn't a lucid dream. She was indeed back in her teenagehood. After a moment of deliberation, she removed her pyjamas for a more thorough inspection. When she had struck the big three-o, she had wondered about her adolescent body. Would she have loved or loathed it? Though her answer was ambivalent, what she found queer was her paleness. Her skin was unusually pallid, almost as if she'd rarely seen the sun. By her recollection, she had spent the whole summer of 2001 hawking ice cream at Bondi and learning to surf. As a result, she had been positively caramel. Compared to her old Billabong body, her present physique smacked of anorexia. Still, at a meter-eighty, she cast an impressive figure for a fifteen-year-old. As young as twelve, people had assumed she was older. She had been denied children’s fares at carnivals and accosted by boys who thought her their age. Once, a bloke at Bondi had propositioned her, offering to teach her about her maturing body. Gwen dug through the wardrobe and found something to wear, straight away arriving at a pair of cut-off jeans and a white tapered tee. The door opened again. It was Percy. “Why are you in your Sunday clothes?” he questioned in his youthful voice. “You need to be in your uniform for the Awakening.” At the mention of the word, another wave of nausea bowled her over. "Get out!" she hissed. Percy fled. She held herself against the mirror until the buzzing went away. A little immodestly, she performed a self-examination, concluding that it wasn't that time of the month. "Fine, I'll go to the damned test." She told her reflection. "Happy now?" She searched through her wardrobe again and located her school blouse and skirt. She remembered being horrid at chores, so it must have been her brother who had collected and packed the laundry. Making a note to thank young Percy, she Googled her fragmented memory and found the school blazer hanging in a separate section of the closet. She inspected the result. The Blackwattle High School senior uniform was a little loose around the bust but appeared otherwise handsome and prim. A grey-white tartan skirt, a navy blazer, and a white blouse gave the costume the feeling of a private academy. There was a vest as well, but Gwen had forgone it for reasons of budget. _D-Ding!_ An alarm went off on her phone. “You’re going to be late for the train!” her brother called out. Gwen opened the door to see Percy with a piece of toast packed in foil, the acrid smell of Vegemite and cheese polluting the air. “Thank me later.” He grinned, revealing pearly white teeth. “Cheers,” she replied, her teenage voice sounding strange as it reverberated through her skull. She needed more time to collect herself, but the urgency of having to attend the Aptitude Test hastily drove her through the door. Following an internal compass, she managed to board a train for the city. The streets of Sydney's CBD were the same old familiar concrete and bitumen, but the transportation had shifted from the grumble of fossil fuel into the thrum of humming mana cores. For the moment, Gwen was glad that no airships sailed across the horizon, completing the vision of a dystopian Weimar Metropolis. The journey towards Blackwattle Bay proved enlightening. In her brave new world, trains ran on ley-lines, fed into a network of mana conduits known simply as the Grid. All around her, geo-dynamic mana powered the city's infrastructure, the most important of which were the Shield Barriers. _A shield what?_ She pinched her brows. Shuddering memories informed her that humanity was hardly safe in this world, that despite the rule of Mageocracy over the Earth, much of it remained under the control of Demi-humans and Magical Creatures. Hell, there wasn’t even an aviation industry thanks to the presence of predatory monsters ruling the skies. The average man could only survive in secured enclaves, sheltered against the unknowable world beyond the Shield Barriers. Despite wearing her blazer, Gwen shivered uncontrollably. Apathetic to her distress, the silent carriage dumbly made its way on enchanted rails into the heart of the city. She disembarked at Pyrmont, finding herself among like-patterned uniforms walking to school. The day was Saturday, the day of the Aptitude Test, A.K.A. “The Awakening”. “Awakening” to what though? _Magic._ _M-Magic?! Mages? Spells?_! Gwen shook her head, attempting to make sense of her new lexicon. Where the hell had she ended up? Was this budget Hogwarts? _You’re a Witch, Gwen?_ With great agitation, she trawled her mind again, fishing the flotsam and jetsam of her fragmented memory. One by one, details emerged. Where her old world had had the SAT and the HSC, this world had the dreaded Projected Magical Aptitude Exam, or PMAE for short, undertaken to segregate Mages from the multitudes. As it stood, the vast majority of humanity were non-magical citizens, lovingly denominated as "NoMs". In a world of Spellcraft, NoMs lived in the Mages’ shadow, living diligent lives as administrators, service personnel, labourers for manufactorums and bodies for the frontlines. For the mundane citizen, ascension was improbable. For those with a magical lineage, one could additionally become a Magus or Magister, whose rare convergence of sorcerous, physical and intellectual potential ensured a charmed life. _I can't fail the test!_ _Okay! Fine!_ Gwen assured her spirit of PMAE past. She ruminated on her new knowledge. _So… apartheid._ Gwen bit her lower lip as the unpleasant epiphany traversed her mind. Moreover, her imminent ordeal seemed especially dubious. Was her memory informing her that a single test determined if she would be a worker ant or an august queen? That seemed ridiculous to Gwen, whose old world at least entertained the illusion of egalitarian meritocracy. The PMAE appeared solely based upon manifest destiny. Even assuming she passed, what of the life she had been living one inebriation prior? She had worked tirelessly to build a company of her own, collecting devoted staff over a decade. They’d just had their second anniversary, and she'd only recently acquired the Lendlease account. Fuming, Gwen trudged with resentment towards her destination. In the distance, the Blackwattle campus appeared more extraordinary than her memory served. An entire wing of buildings appeared appended to the existing sandstone facade that loomed over the bay. Concurrently, the Fish Market next door bustled with semi-magical bounty, disseminating an ignoble stench of discarded seafood. “Gwen!” A chirpy voice rang out from the multitude of bobbing heads walking the steep incline up toward the school's gymnasium. She turned to see a spry Asian girl rushing towards her, two imposing masses rioting as she ran, her face plump with adorable baby fat. “Gwen-Gwen!” The girl embraced her before landing a quick peck on her cheek. “Ooo! I missed you so much! I am beyond happy that we're seniors together!" She recognised the overfamiliar girl as Yue, a Shanghainese girl whose family had immigrated from the southern capital. Yue’s china-doll face was milk white and porcelain, punctuated by the small pink of her mouth. Her eyes, two luminous crescents beset by prominent lashes, seemed to swallow Gwen with their softness. The sight of a friend she had not seen for a decade took the words right out of her mouth. Yue Bai had been her closest and dearest friend back in high school, though they had drifted apart when Gwen escaped her home. “It's only been a month.” She smiled back, hiding the fact that the original Gwen wasn't in the driving seat. Though faint and spectral, she could sense her alter ego hovering around somewhere in the dark recess of her brain like the Ghost of Banquo, only she hadn’t done anything to warrant its unpleasant haunting. Beside her, Yue began an endless stream of small talk. Gwen listened as her old friend chittered excitedly about the latest gossip—who had been tested for what; who had been picked for which scholarship; what was the best element was to pair with which School of Magic. When the duo finally made their way into the hall, the rest of the student body was already waiting in the auditorium. The headmaster and the instructors were in militant dress uniforms that reminded Gwen of decorated veterans on ANZAC Day. She scanned the hall for more familiar faces but was quickly shuffled into place by a prefect. Upon the podium, the principal addressed the assembly. “Students, staff, members of the chancellory, welcome to the 2001 PMAE. This exam is carried out statewide on Spellcraft course Year ten students. In a moment, you will be asked to approach the dais and place your hand on the Awakening Crystal…” A murmur spread across the auditorium as the officious announcement reverberated through the air. The principal, a raven-haired man of advanced age, spoke sonorously over the assemblage. She recognised the man as Magus Jules Bartlett, principal of Blackwattle. Under the man's watchful eye, generations of Acolytes came and went, all remembering the ever-present personage that was Principal Bartlett at the gates, 0700 sharp, dutifully greeting each student. Amiable and approachable, the principal was a man fond of oration. “Students! Young Mages! The Path of Spellcraft is glorious but fraught with danger and risk! Upon the Path, many trials shall beset you—forbidden knowledge, creatures horrid and savage, Demi-humans cruel and heartless!" The students broke into a murmur. “For now, your lives are peaceful - but make no mistake, let not your daily comfort confuse you. We are beset on all sides by forces far greater than humanity itself. Compared to the creatures of the Wildlands, we are weak. Compared to the creatures of the Deep, we are few. Compared to the beings of the Elemental Planes, we are mortal!" "Yet WHY is it that man persists upon the Material Plane? Why has man survived the aeons to establish our civilisation on Earth against all the odds? It is because, through the application of Spellcraft, we are _strong_! We, the human race, are united in our mastery of _sorcery_!" Abruptly, the principal’s voice took on a new intensity and volume. "The PMAE is only the first step, but it is a significant one. It will define who you are and what you aspire to be. Do not fret; there is a place in our world for everyone. No matter your talent, you will be appreciated! The survival of one contributes to the survival of all!" Thunderous applause filled the auditorium as the students roared their collective approval. Though confused, Gwen clapped alongside, not wanting to appear the stranger. "All of you already possess magical affinity; your studies in junior high have proven that you are worthy to be Mages,” the principal announced confidently, “Some of you, perhaps, may even become Magus! But know that be you Citizen, Mage, Magus, or Magister: only united, can human civilisation push back the tide of the Wildlands seeking to subsume us." Compared to the earlier clamour, the applause grew demure. Gwen wondered if each student was thinking of their chances at the hands of Fortuna, pondering whether they would awaken to glory or slumber in anonymity. To her understanding, the principal had told a compelling truth. Who would not wish to possess the power of destruction and creation? Who would not desire to wield the raw elements of nature, to freeze one's foes with shards of eldritch ice, to blast apart the monsters that threatened one's home? But it wasn't the old Gwen who now had to face the music. It was her, and Gwen realised she had no idea what was going on. The only sensation she truly felt was numbness—numb for the world she found herself in, stunned by the chaotic emotions smothering her over and over. Survival of humankind? Magic to rule the world? She was in her PJs an hour ago!

The whole thing feels like a cult, Gwen cynically assessed the assemblage of students and staff. All around her, the cohort separated into rows standing before ten crystal spheres. The 'Awakening Crystals' reminded her of E-meters she saw once on Castlereagh St. These students, who had already had their affinity affirmed, were being tested for their aptitude for different Schools of Magic. The procedure was simple enough. A student stood in front of the stone and placed their hand atop the sigil sensing crystal. The crystal then expanded its magical energies after completing the circuit, sending mana back into the recipient. Whatever Glyph the indicator reciprocated then betokened the student's proficiency in a School of Magic. At least that's what her alter-self recalled. According to her memories, official Spellcraft theorems privileged a trifactor of conditions impacting a Mage's talents: their natural affinity for a particular School of Magic; the Element they attuned to, and finally their natural born intelligence for manipulating Spellcraft. Either of the three could be developed later in life, but as humans had limited lifespans and dubious willpower, those born with a headstart rose to the top of Spellcraft society with accelerated ease. As far as she knew, there were seven primary schools of Spellcraft: Evocation, Transmutation, Abjuration, Conjuration, Divination, Enchantment, and Illusion. Each had their specialities, and each manifested a particular arcane phenomenon unique enough to be called a ‘school’. Other schools existed but were unique to bloodlines, cultures, and religious mythos. “OH MY God, Gwenie, I am nervous as hell.” Yue clutched onto Gwen’s arm with a force rivalling that of the proverbial koala, known for having a grip strength many times its body mass. “What do you want to awaken as?” Gwen shook herself from the dizzying remembrance. Spellcraft, Schools of Magic, Monsters, none of it made any sense to her. “Evocation of course,” Yue squealed. “The cardinal rule of all magic is firepower, followed by firepower, and finally, some more firepower!” “That would be pretty nice,” Gwen answered blankly. “Firepower for sure.” “When we go out there during the Field Trip, we can blast away everything with impunity!” Yue’s expression was dreamy and hopeful, her face flushed with enthusiasm. “Field Trip?” “... You know, going outside the Shield Barrier, kicking ass…” “And?” “And KILL SHIT!” Yue made an evil looking grin, probably already dreaming of carcasses flinging through the air after a particularly robust pyrotechnical display. “Muscle-headed idiots,” a voice interjected beside them. The speaker was a bronzed-skinned teen wearing a uniform one size too small. Her tartan skirt exposed her upper thighs, and they could see her bra strap against the taut-fabric of her white blouse. Her hair was dyed with a pink tip, though her natural colour would have been an alluring auburn brunette. “What are you looking at?” the girl snapped. Gwen felt struck by a strange sense of déjà vu. That catty demeanour was almost endearing. She wracked her brain until starcrossed memories of two lifetimes converged, revealing that the hot-topic with the resting bitchface was Debora. Holy shit, Gwen mouthed silently. Debora Jones! Good grief - that takes her back! As far as she could recollect, Debora was the faction leader of what was dubbed the bimbos by the egg heads, and ‘hotties’ by the boys in general. She had been friends with Gwen during primary school, but their friendship drifted apart once puberty kicked in. In her old life, Debora was obsessed with Gwen because they were both as tall as one another, even more so than the late-blooming boys. When Gwen’s parents divorced, Debora had ceased to be a priority. "Debbie-" Gwen began, but Yue was way ahead of her. “I bet you’ll awaken in the school of the whore…” Yue remarked rudely. Her eyes scanned Debora's scandalous uniform. "Slut." Gwen stared at Yue with genuine shock. Only now was she recalling that Yue was a mad dog when it came to cat fights. The petite Asian girl had a temperament like forty-grit sandpaper. She wasn't one to mince words when insults were needed. Her fiery disposition and foul mouth were matched only by her bust. “My uncle and my father are both Transmuter Mages,” Debora retorted effortlessly. “What about yours? Conjuration specialising in boats? People like you should go back to where you come from.” “This stupid Gweilo…” Yue let loose a string of unwelcome syllables that was half Chinese and somewhat English, “I'll awaken as a fire Evoker and burn your whore (whole) house down.” She could probably do it. Gwen perspired nervously. Damn Yue, you scary! “You chicks gonna start pulling some hair, ripping some blouses?” came another voice from beside them. It was a boy with an utterly forgettable face, an acquaintance of Yue’s from the same primary school, one of those faces you never bothered to speak to on the bus. His eyes moved between the girls lasciviously. When he gawked at Gwen, her gaze made him choke on his next words. “Piss off you loser.” Debora scowled cattily. “Come on people, make or break moment here.” A Prefect stepped in between them. “You’re all nervous, I get it, but don't forget your humility and manners as students of Blackwattle.” Good luck with that, Gwen mused at the Prefect's words. Blackwattle was a Government run school. There were no distinguishing hallmarks other than a campus that overlooked the harbour of Sydney's industrial zone. Most of the time, the campus smelled faintly of fish. "Go fuck yourself," Yue added testily before turning away. The boy's eyes met the Prefect's, who shrugged. Gwen and Yue watched as students approached the dais, legs quivering and fingers shaking, placing their hands on the crystal. Flashes of indistinct colour indicated schools of magic and elemental affinities, following which the students had their I.D Cards registered after a brief vis-a-vis with the Instructors. Debora’s name came, and she stepped forward towards the crystal. One could see that despite all her bluster, her well-exposed stalks still shook from anxious anticipation. The surfer girl placed her hands on the crystal and waited. From Gwen's ignorant perspective, a glow entered into Debora's hand and permeated into her body. Then it recycled through the crystal, causing the stone to illuminate. After a few moments, the glass atop the device glowed with a glyph indicating the School of Transmutation, its soft brown halo indicating an Earthen affinity. Debora signed with relief, though she still felt a little disappointed that she was no more talented than her father predicted. She had wanted the School of the Evoker or Conjurer, to be a bright star upon the battlefield, a blazing tempest of power and fury. “Your turn, Shorty." Debora looked over at Yue before walking from the platform. “What an annoying bimbo,” Yue blustered, trying to mask the demons wreaking havoc in her chest. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. “Good luck.” Gwen’s own heart was pounding against her ribcage, quickening her breath and flushing her cheeks bright pink. From what she could gather so far, this Awakening ordeal was an extraordinary moment of exceeding importance. A few more students came and went. When it was Yue’s turn, she made her way to the top of the platform and placed her hand on the assigned crystal. The same glow enveloped her small frame; Yue squirmed as the mana completed its circuit. When the radiance returned, it became a blazing glow of ochre, so bright that it illuminated half the auditorium. A collective gasp emitted from the assembly. “Evocation with a high tier Fire talent!” an Instructor called out incredulously. “It's tier 4 affinity at least!” The news was both welcome and remarkable for the pedestrian populous of Blackwattle. Generally speaking, only bloodlines that had generations of Mages who practised the same style was more prone to producing high-affinity talents. Those with affinities often inter-married, generating greater chances of begetting offspring with ever more prominent sympathies for a school or element. As far as anyone knew, Yue was a regular migrant fleeing the Magical Beasts. For Gwen, the shock was doubly so, as she knew Yue's mother was a NoM. Her friend's common heritage was precisely why she was causing such a stir, could Yue's Awakening mean the rise of a future House? Observing Yue's serendipitous stardom seemed to trigger another bout of anxiety within Gwen. She was glad that a single piece of toast was all she had for breakfast. The room erupted into applause. Yue gave a smug look toward the red-faced Debora, who quickly left to speak to her coordinator. Yue’s fire affinity inferred that with sufficient training, her fire spells would be less costly and more powerful. Though not precisely stellar at lower tiers, should Yue make it to the rank of Magus or Magister, her spells would be stronger, more efficient, and manifest faster than her peers. As for her immediate future, her greatest advantage lied in the fact that Evocation Mages could hunt monsters from the get-go. For Yue, the future was flaming bright. “Congratulations Yue!” Gwen was happy for her friend but found herself thrust aside by the crowd of students and instructors who surrounded the newly crowned Queen of Flames. “Next!” “Evoker, tier 1 Water.” “Oh, God! Please give me another go! I don’t want to be a fireman…” “Remove him!” “Next!” “Abjuration, tier 1 Earth!” “Next!” “No reaction! I am sorry.” "NOOOOO!" “Next!” “Transmutation, tier 2 Air! An Air Mage!” “Yes! Just what I wanted!” “Congrats mate!” "Cheers!" “Evocation!” “Divination!” “Evocation!” “Conjuration! Tier 1 water!” “Oh, hell yeah!” The crowd murmured and congratulated the newly minted Conjurer. Conjuration Mages were extremely powerful once they found their Familiars. In a place with as much water as Coastal Sydney, a Water Conjurer could go far. Gwen felt another bout of irritation stripping her stomach-lining. According to her alter-ego, one's Primary school of magic determined the most synergetic school that would be available to a caster. To train one’s second school required painstaking repetition, and only those with the talent, experience, and luck of surviving mortal combat ever attained the rare opportunity to master a school beyond the first. Most Mages remained between tiers 1 to 5 in a single School, happy with the gainful employment offered by the state's many institutions. The risking of life and limb, after all, wasn't for everyone. The world outside the city might be full of monsters, but behind man's Barrier Shields, they could live in relative peace. “Gwen Song,” called out a voice that sounded to Gwen like a death knell. The moment of truth, Gwen muttered to herself. She made her way to the platform and placed her hand on the crystal. “Relax,” advised the Instructor. You RELAX, Gwen thought, I don't even know what the hell I am doing. Gwen's hand touched the cold stone. In an instant, she felt herself on the verge of collapse. Her clammy perspiration glued her blouse to her pallid skin. She had no idea what was going to happen, and her heart felt as though it was trying to shut itself down. Get a grip! Gwen willed herself, but her body was neglectful of her command; whatever mental synapses that were firing within her physical form was entirely outside of her mental domain. “Don't be so nervous, place your hand firmly on the crystal,” the instructor commanded. With vague and trembling fingers, Gwen gripped the crystal. The mana jolted her hand like a static shock, it travelled red hot up her arm and into her body, invading her spine and filling her veins with molten lead. Her world seemed to expand, her consciousness enveloping the room and extending beyond her physical self. She saw within her mind's eye arcane Sigils that represented the different schools, each cognitive illusions created by her Spellcraft-indoctrinated mind, fabricated by ingrained knowledge to make sense of the senseless, to visualise the incomprehensible. The mana coiled and flowed, connecting her Astral form to her physical body. Evocation! Evocation! Evocation! Come on! Gwen's dearest wish was to stick close to Yue until she could figure this world out for herself. Then a bright Sigil bloomed in her mind. A golden glow. But Gwen had no idea what the visions meant. Then another sigil flared. A bright and piercing beacon of light. What the hell does that even mean? Gwen hissed with frustration. Do I touch it? Or talk to it? Isn't there a supposed to be a voice asking me if I want power? What if she had to go to a different campus? Gryffindor! Not Slytherin! Then another shade, blue this time, and yet another, a bright orange, a purple mauve, a pale lilac- The Sigils were beyond comprehension now; they seemed to amalgamate into a quickened form of crystalline brightness, brighter than anything Gwen had seen. The colours blurred and became a nimbus, a twin world of light and darkness. Then as quickly as it began, light and darkness split. There was now two nebulous figures standing side by side. What the hell is happening? Gwen tried to orientate herself within the light fantastic. What the hell did I Awaken? Some strange new school? I better not have awoken something weird! An abduction by a government agency after less than twenty-four hours in this world would be the worst. Gwen opened her eyes and looked for her instructor. Maybe he could provide some guidance as to what her affinities are. “Oh My God!” “Eek! Aeeee!” “I can’ believe it!” “Why God? Why not me!!!” The room became wild with excitement. Though it wasn't for Gwen. Gwen’s instructor regarded her colourless crystal. “Er…” “We have a Biomancer!” someone positively shrieked. “Elvia can tap into the Plane of Positive Energy!” A green glow was fading from the other side of the auditorium, the student body crowding around a small girl even shorter than Yue. From her timid posture and gentle face, Gwen recognised the girl as Elvia Lindholm. The bookish blonde girl had been the invisible sort, though now her presence captivated the auditorium. A Biomancer. Clerics were a rare bird in any neck of the woods as it required simultaneous affinities for both Evocation and Conjuration Schools. The essential caveat though was possessing the Positive Elemental trait. Elvia - made special by a twist of fate, had become a cherished class of individuals existing beyond social strata, for the Frontier was always short on healers. “O happy day!” the Principal harkened loudly. "Congratulations! Miss Lindholm!" There had not been a natural healer in the school for almost a decade. Having a healer like Elvia meant Blackwattle would receive a funding boost. The administration would have to hire a specialist to teach her, and the Education Department would be obliged to provide the very best. A school with two healers, a master and student duo! They would be the envy of almost every other school in the district! Usually, only the Selective class of schools had trained arcane healers. The regular school nurse was just a quasi-Cleric trained in applying remedy gels and administering potion-injectors. Back in the real world, Gwen's instructor faced her with an awkward, apologetic expression. “I am sorry Gwen.” Her crystal possessed a transparent glow that was more daylight than any distinct colour. “You have very low affinity…” the man noted. "Furthermore, I don't see a Sigil or an element...” What? What do you mean you don't see a Sigil? I saw them! I saw all of them! Those squiggly worm-like arcane marks, right? The things that looked like hieroglyphics married into the Hebrew alphabet. “It's strange but not unheard of,” the Instructor continued. "We're all made differently." The instructor’s unwelcome decree was like a death sentence. Gwen felt a cold shiver of dreadful premonition hang over the nape of her neck like a raised guillotine. “Well, the transparent nimbus shows that you can tap into the Planes and channel mana,” the Instructor stated with a tone of surety. "But you don't have any affinity, it seems. I am afraid you have what we call a null-base." Not synergistic? Gwen searched through the brief impulse of her memory. In a moment the anxiety attack that had been kept at bay by her curiosity returned with a crippling force, striking her as though a concussive blow had been dealt. Gwen had to hold onto the pedestal to keep herself steady. Synergy was a matter that related to how fast a Mage was able to progress in their schools. It also determined the variability of hybrid magic that Mages mastered as they choose their second, and eventually third schools. A poor synergy meant poor mana conversion efficiency. No matter how hard Gwen trained, she would be far behind those with innate talent. "Careful now." The instructor arrested Gwen's shoulder. A flood of memories assaulted her conscious. Her family was still reeling from a messy separation; her father was a useless waste of space. Her mother had fully expected Gwen to awaken in something rare and precious. What was this absurd plot twist? What difficulty had her rebirth been cranked? Try as she might, the compelling force of conditioned biochemistry held fast her trembling body. Wasn’t she supposed to be overpowered? Why isn’t everyone shouting and screaming that she was the Girl who Lived? Gwen beheld at her instructor, dumbfounded. “I am sorry Gwen,” the man repeated with a sympathetic face. "But it looks like you’re just a common Mage.”

“So, what do I do?” Gwen's trembling lips begged for an answer. By now, her eyes were moist with the distress of her devastating evaluation. The pitiful look she projected gave the instructor such a pang of guilt that he felt his iron mien falter. After all, the girl's future was nothing if not bleak. But the crystal told no lies. Whatever it had presented at its conclusion, was whatever the poor sorceress drew for her lot in life. “You should be able to cast basic spells without issues,” the Instructor attempted to soothe her confusion with a delicate tone. "Having no affinity also means you have no real drawbacks for accessing different schools, so you could work on being a utility Mage, maybe a machine operator?" The look of chilling despair on the girl's frail, white face bespoke her desolation. “Look.” He glanced over at Yue and Elvia, still being congratulated by her fellow students. “You’re close friends with the Fire girl right?” “Yes Sir,” Gwen replied, still stunned by her commonness. What was the point of being taken from her perfectly fine life, only to be thrust into a mediocre role in the midst of a eugenic apartheid? Gwen couldn't help but be reminded of an old Bard's musing - that as flies to wanton boys are mortals to the Gods, they pull our wings for sport. Was it mere chance that she was plucked from the apex of her life in Sydney and deposited into this depressing canyon of despair? If there was 'sport' in it, it was certain at her expense. “I'll put you down as Evocation since you will have access to it. It's also the cheapest and most time efficient to train, but from here on out it's going to be just you. The school will provide what we can of course, but…” The look on the instructor’s told her more than she needed to know. It was no concern for the school to include her as a low-tier student. All low tier students received the same resources anyway until they could somehow distinguish themselves. She would be one more in a sea of nameless faces that dotted the place like the decor. “Thank you, Sir,” Gwen answered finally, unsure if her Instructor had helped her or prolonged her suffering. The Instructor nodded and jotted down in his scribe pad her new classification. Gwen Song - Tier 1 Evoker. “Good luck.” The rest of the grade soon passed their examination. The junior Mages were assigned to their respective Schools of Magic. Gwen was in Class II. As promised, she was in Yue's class. To their surprise, the new darling of the grade, Elvia Lindholm, was also included in class II. Thankfully, Debora was in Class III. Looking around, Gwen saw vaguely familiar faces who ignored her. The snub was unpleasant. Her unique family drama over the last two years meant that she seldom had time for friends. For now, however, she had bigger problems, like the fact that she was a wayward soul stolen from across space and time then untimely deposited in a delicate body. She was one amongst thirty students who were Evokers. It was, after all, the staple of Mages everywhere. Beside the group were the rarer Mages, an assortment of Abjurers, a few Transmuters, two low-affinity Diviners, one low-affinity Enchanter, and so on. The specialists who emerged were: Yue, tier 4 Fire Evoker Jasmine, tier 2 Ice Evoker Owen, tier 2 Earthen Enchanter Juergen, tier 2 Water Illusionist Patrick, tier 1 Water Conjurer And of course, the creme de crop, Elvia the Tier 2 Biomancer. The whole thing seemed absurd to Gwen, whose old world was driven by the basic tenet that everyone got a fair shake of the sauce bottle. It was all well and good if one won the genetic lottery, but what about the NoMs? What about people like her whose talent sucked? Were they doomed to be forever denied a spot in the sun? She wanted to say something snide, to express the displeasure and frustration that was ripping her chest apart - but she became struck by yet another epiphanic revelation. Humanity wasn't alone in this world. This world never had significant wars fought between humans. The Great War was against an Undead incursion that saw the loss of almost twenty per cent of Humanity's land mass to Necromantic Magical Beings. Conversely, the Second World War happened in the 70s, triggered by the awakening of an ancient dragon. In that bout, Humanity lost another swath of cities and fortresses, effectively cut them off from the Pacific Ocean and isolating man into City-states. In the three decades since a few fallen cities had been reclaimed and stabilised with barriers, but Man had never escaped the existential crisis of being wiped out by an attack from the great unknown. In fact, her current residence, the Frontier City of Sydney, was one such reclaimed port of call. Originally lost in 1940 to the Coral Sea War, the coastal areas of Brisbane, Sydney, and Melbourne were returned to human dominion by the might of the Commonwealth Mageocracy, lead by an English-Chinese-American expedition. The city became thus repopulated by refugees and volunteer forces from the Commonwealth and the diasporic Micronesian nations. As with all Frontiers, supplies were constrained. Maintaining the Shield Barriers served as the primary preoccupation of any city. What meagre resources remained were then channelled into the city's systems to be redistributed. When Gwen underwent her junior examination, she had shown no particular aptitude for Magic and had to attend a regular school that taught basic level theory and prep. That had proved a moment of significant disappointment for her mother, who'd expected her to be a prodigy. Her brother Percy, conversely, had the making of something special, registering a mana signature as young as 10. He was enrolled currently at The Sydney College of Magic for Boys, a 'Selective' government institution. All in all, what it meant was that she would be starved of resources, which made escaping mediocrity yet more difficult. In the old world, Gwen had been no stellar student either, but that never stopped her believing that she would do well in life. There was always merit in networking, taking risks, and catching the right business opportunities. In this world, however, Gwen felt her insides atrophy. What the hell was she supposed to do? Virtually everything in this world relied on some knowledge or affinity for magic. Even the wealthiest of the NoMs served a particular House, Clan or Faction. Self-sufficiency for one without immense talent was nigh-impossible. “Gwen!” A familiar voice shook her from her nightmarish introspection. It was Yue. “We’re both Evokers!!” The jubilant Asian girl hugged Gwen’s arm gleefully, sinking Gwen's bony elbow between pillowy mounds. With a tier 4 affinity, her friend's future was as bright as a fireball. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Was it possible to eke out a living away from Spellcraft? As with all clickbait rhetoric, the answer was 'no'. If she gave up Spellcraft, she would be a woman of no importance, a worker ant in a hive of indifferent activity. Without background and lineage, she would be transparent. Her only worth would be as a pretty face in the crowd. When the creatures come for the cities, she would cower in the bunker with the other civilians, awaiting death or salvation. What kind of stupid life would that be? Who aspires to become cannon fodder, behaving as the wind behaves? Feeling Yue press against her icy body, Gwen stifled a sigh. She hugged her friend, stealing some of Yue's warmth. It was stupid to give up so soon, Gwen informed herself. Hadn't the years already taught her that? She wasn't a girl-child out of home for the first time. If she could strike out alone at sixteen and make it then, she could surely do it again. Isn't that what Ol' Blue Eyes said? If I can make it there. I'll make it anywhere? So what if life gave her lemons? She's going to make lemon sorbet and key lime pie! She's going to work it until she spewed blood. No one was born an Archmage. The Path, as they say, was three-quarters risk and reward and one-quarter talent. If she died, then hell, maybe she can wake up back home in her bayside bed! A plan began to form in her mind. “I agree, Yue, it's going to be great,” Gwen announced to her friend, who was already daydreaming about the academic term to come. “Yeah!” Yue grinned from ear to ear, caring not in the slightest the look of dour jealousy and calculated guilt staining Gwen’s brow. “We’re gonna be the dynamic duo! The Evoker sisters of Blackwattle!” Yue uttered jubilantly. "Dynamic Duo!" Gwen echoed, swallowing her pride. The newly formed classes slowly converged into their assigned groups. Now that aptitudes results were assigned and recorded, classes would resume in their new configurations within the week. For Spellcraft students, boarding on campus was compulsory. The weekend was so that they got to return home and sort out parental notifications. To Gwen, the ordeal reeked of overreach and authoritarianism. Should a parent deprive the State of a much-needed body, stiff penalties applied. With a feeling of ambivalence, Gwen said goodbye to an unwilling Yue and returned home to deliver; she supposed, the bad news. When she once again boarded the tram, Gwen realised the day was still young. As it was still mid-noon, she decided to take the opportunity to engage in some academic research on her current condition. She switched trams for the State Library, northward of Hyde Park. As a Spellcraft student, her new I.D card allowed her limited viewing of closed resources on magical lore. Not knowing where she must begin, Gwen withdrew several rudimentary tomes to dispel some of her ignorance. In the past, she had been a troubled high school student, though university quickly saw her talent for academia blossom. She quickly scanned through the necessary volumes and found that she was already familiar with the knowledge. It was more so that she couldn't coax her long-term memory to regurgitate the information she needed. The reading of basic lore, therefore, acted as a trigger to bring forward a decade of schooling. As knowledge new and old agonisingly conjoined, she came to realise that she was in one hell of a pickle. First of all, in this world, Spellcraft was kept behind closed doors. Beyond the first few tiers of magic, there existed little to no information on an efficient method of training. Knowledge beyond the high school syllabus was well restricted in a world without Wikipedia, or an Encyclopedia, for that matter. Here was a world where tertiary level knowledge was given exclusively to those who were meritocratically proven. In the old world, she could Google in five minutes the theory behind nuclear fission. In this world, she had better make it to university before learning anything beyond tier 3 magic. All in all, there were 9 tiers of Spellcraft, classified as spells, rites, and strategic-class rituals. Thanks to modernised Spellcraft theorems, elemental affinity directly impacted the effect of spells. Moreover, magical phenomena were transmogrified by Spirits and Meta-magic, creating a vast array of spells near-impossible to document. By the same measure, professional instruction came in the form of Master and Apprentice. For one in Gwen's present condition, the Instructions given to the masses served only to produce fodder Mages necessary for filling gaps in the battle lines. Even when one was lucky enough to employ a Master, few Magisters were willing to teach the secrets of their craft to anyone but a legitimate heir. Nonetheless, Gwen kept on reading. Spellcraft was the manifestation of magic. Casting a spell was achieved via incantations. Incantations, consisting of both oral and somatic components, served to trigger mnemonic procedures necessary for shaping arcane energies. The source of a Mage's power was their Astral Soul, perceived in deep meditation as one's Astral Body. An Astral Body's affinity for specific Schools of Magic manifests as Sigils. One's Sigil shaped the mana from the Elemental Gate. From Fire, Water, Earth, to more exotic powers such as Dust, Magma and even Radiance. Thus a Spell begins in the form of raw spiritual energy or Mana emitted by the Astral Body. The Mage's elemental affinity supplements this energy through one's Elemental Gate. Simultaneously, invocations shape the energy as it courses through a Mage's mana conduits, exiting the body as the desired phenomena. The process was simple enough in theory, but the problem lay with the exponential complexity of spells as they increased in tiers. A tier one spell was a little more than a single incantation. A tier two spell had three incantations. A tier three spell had nine, and tier four spell a whopping twenty-seven. Each existed as a highly complex pattern of thought that must be fluidly delivered through the correct pronounciation. If a spell failed, the Mage suffered mana burn. Usually, failure resulted in dizziness and nausea; with higher spells, the caster could be incapacitated. At its extremity, the invoker may be reduced to a blithering idiot. In this manner, complex phenomena were incredibly challenging to manifest, as the mana requirement was proportional to the risk of failure and self-harm. Gwen tried to imagine an Archmage casting a legendary tier nine spell, using old world algorithms to crunch the numbers. 6561 incantations, performed mentally without failure or pause. By Pythagoras! She sucked in a cold breath of air. No wonder there were only a handful of these individuals in the world. A dozen Mages out of five billion human beings were capable of becoming arcane Super Computers. Gwen read on. There was a section on affinity for Schools of Magic. It would appear that Mages were born with affinities for particular forms of magical phenomena. Evokers, the most common, were adept at releasing energy. Conjurers were best at coalescing and calling forth objects and creatures. Abjurers could create solid matter as barriers. Any attempt at using a School of Magic in which a Mage lacked affinity would require excessive concentration, risking mana burn. On the other hand - possessing a Sigil - a talent Mages tend to be born with, made invoking that School of Magic almost second nature. Gwen closed the book despairingly. So that was why her instructor had told her that she could only be a utility mage - a third-rate healer, a spotter for the Evoker battalion, a controller for the levitation transports, an operator in the Divination department. It was because she couldn't cast spells in the heat of combat. When she turned the page of another Primer, she saw that there was a cantrip on the page before her - something so simple it didn’t even require a Sigil. These simple spells were called Cantrips. She closed her eyes and began the chant. "Mage Hand!" In her mind's eye, she felt the flow of mana race through her body, tingling her skin as they passed through her body's conduits. She envisioned a hand, an invisible astral limb, holding up the book she was reading. "Mother! Look!" Gwen's moment of serenity was interrupted by the cry of a child. The hefty tome fell into her lap. She was still in the midst of the library and that the pale glow of mana emitted by her indiscretion had caused a stir. There was a child who stared at her wild-eyed, pointing a rudely erect finger toward her face. "Samuel!" The mother retracted the child's hand. "It's rude to point!" She turned to regard Gwen with a frightened, apologetic face. "I am sorry, Mistress Mage," she intoned with a voice that trembled. "It's fine," Gwen promptly responded, her face flushing a shade of scarlet. “Miss, no phenomena in the public space please.” Came a voice from behind them. It was a librarian whose face scrunched with displeasure. “I am sorry,” Gwen apologised. "It won't happen again." "Thank you, Ma'am!" The woman apologised again. To be so afraid of even a worthless Mage like me, Gwen thought sadly. This world was a two-tier dystopia. Here the Mages were nobles, and the nonmagical population the serfs. Such was the difference in their natural endowment. She wondered what compelled the Mages to live beside the NoMs? Noblesse oblige? Though Mages and citizens had agreed to abide by the metaphorical Magna Carta, it was self-evident that Mages occupied a position irreplaceable by the NoMs. A system of Nobility based upon genetic meritocracy? Gwen shuddered. A eugenicist's wet dream. Again, her alter-memories reminded her that when survival was at hand, the handing over of power to a small and elite group of individuals seemed natural and unquestionable. When the creatures of the Wildlands came, a party of combat Mages could defeat a hundred monsters. A single Magus could annihilate a hoard infestation in a single large-scale assault. A Magister could take on a General class magical beast. A Magi? They were more akin to nuclear deterrents in Gwen's old world. They kept the balance of the world and its fragile peace. We won't nuke your monster Necropolis if you leave our human Metropolis alone, Gwen mused acidulously. To be a Mage in a world where magic ruled. The aptitude test was a watershed moment; when the Schrödinger's cat was finally out of the box. Most of the time, the cat died. Sometimes, the cat lived. Once in a blue moon, what came out was a Displacer Beast. But until then, all children were Tabula Rasa. 'Ping!' An announcement echoed across the library. "We will be closing in ten minutes..." Gwen closed the books. It was time to face the music.

When she was eleven, Gwen's parents separated. Custody, alimony, property splits, embittered family taking sides and caustic dialogue all took their toll. It had been a terrible time for the teenage Gwen, who through it all, tried to take care of her brother Percy. In the end, she powered through and believed herself stronger for surviving the drama. She suffered a few psychological tics- but it was nothing a North Shore therapist couldn't resolve, especially aided by pharmacology, the 'magic' of her old world. She had believed her past behind her, yet here she was, ambushed by her second adolescence. The district they lived in, Forestville, was primarily for working class Mages and NoM civilians. The streets were narrow and cramped, and her area of the neighbourhood, lovingly designated Zone 11, was filled with stifling habitat blocks smothering one another’s access to sunlight, ensuring that the vast majority of residents lived in permanent shadow. "Oi, Lover!" "Give us a kiss sweetheart!" "I could play with those legs for days!" Catcalls from the locals were a common occurrence in Forestville. The district was, after all, filled with unemployed NoMs and luckless Mages half-hanging out of windows in their sweat-stained shirts. Gwen hastened her pace and made for the apartment. She paused in front of the gates, attempting to recollect herself. Now that her talent was set in stone, she had people to disappoint. At the thought of her mother, Gwen shuddered involuntarily. Her memory threw up the vision of a fierce, beautiful, vivacious existence offset by hare-brained schemes and bouts of irrational jealousy. Mid-life crisis combined with a bi-polar personality had ensured that the old Gwen lived in abject terror of her mother's slightest displeasure. Her alter-self couldn't understand why her father - Morye Song - a half Russian, half Chinese Abjurer, a ‘success story’ migrant, chose to remain in her mother's orbit. But Gwen did. The reason was simple. Economic reality was a bitch. The apartment under which she stood belonged not to their father but their mother, or more accurately, her Clan. It was only by their mother's charity that their unambitious, skirt-chasing father could afford a comfortable lifestyle for the kids. Simply put, the economic impetus of a roof over their heads bound Gwen and Percy to their mother, likewise serving as a Sword of Damocles held over the head of her ex-partner. She pushed through the gate and entered the complex. The six-storey building did not possess a Levitation platform. The physically demanding ascent gave her more time to catch up with memories of her alter ego. Her parents had met while studying, catching on like a house on fire. By Gwen's recollection, it should have ended there. Yet, something alike to opposite attract seemed to have found one another, and the easy-going Morye Song married the rebellious Helena Huang. Of course, the brightest candle burns only half as long, and her mother was gunpowder. By an age alter-Gwen was old enough to understand, their different upbringings had made them less in kin and more in malice. Helena was an ambitious princess, Morye was a laidback bloke. It was all very Edward Albee. When Gwen grew up a hale and mundane, tested to reveal precisely nothing by the divisive age of 10, the marriage had reached its limit. “Your blood is weak,” her mother had announced one day, long before her brother Percy displayed his potential. The argument escalated, and more than just dinner was destroyed that night. Then revelation came that her mother had found an old flame, a former admirer, an industrious tier 4 Earthen Enchanter-Magus who had a lingering crush on the vivacious girl of his dreams. Rationally, it was a reasonably prudent and pragmatic choice. For if and when the Shield Barrier failed, would one prioritise some no-name Barrier Abjurer, or would one preferably be escorted to the nearest Freight-Carrier as the partner of a vital Fabricator? She ascended the last flight of stairs, out of breath and feeling torn. How should she deal with her parents? Could she even see them as her own? Certainly, they were the biological parents of this body she now inhabited, but- Gwen turned the handle. Was her father home? She wondered. Discerning his work schedule at the Barrier Station was difficult. After the divorce, Morye had found rebirth in playing with younger women. Was a little payback for her mother's possessive ownership over his children? Then again, Gwen reminded herself, in this world or the last, Morye's priority had always been himself. She arrived at the door, turned the keys, and entered. Percy was chewing through Allenberg’s Primer for Astral Theory on a desk covered with notes. From the looks of his copy, her brother had sunk far more hours into it than she ever did. “I am back!” Gwen announced to the world. “Welcome back Sis,” Percy addressed her. Gwen dropped off the books in the cramped living room, then slumped into the decaying foam of their two-decade-old couch. “What you having for avo-tea?” She asked. “The usual, Sambal Eggs.” “I'll have it on bread.” “Do it yourself ya lazy bum!” her brother replied tartly. "Make it for me! Please?" "Arrrgh! Stop pinching me!" Percy made afternoon tea, and the two shared a meal of dubious eggs. “So…” Percy said finally, “how goes the aptitude test?” "Evoker, null element," Gwen admitted with a bittersweet tone. "Congrats!" Percy raised a fork to toast, then realised what his sister had said. "Oh." "It's fine." Gwen put on a wane smile. She supposed it was better than being a NoM. Percy went to a Selective High School, where the guy that no one wanted to pick for a ball game would be minimum tier 2 something. Percy himself was probably tier 3 at worst, higher if he got lucky. Telling him that she awakened as a no-element Evoker was akin to the old world version of informing a peer on the U Syd Med-track that you managed to get into an Arts degree at a vocation college. She felt embarrassed just saying it. The peppery-chilli eggs turned to ash in her mouth. "I am happy for you." Percy tried to say something comforting, but he was just a kid with an adolescent's emotional quotient. Percy's education placed exceptional emphasis on talent, privilege, and the promise of a holier-than-thou future. From the look of consternation on his face, Percy appeared abashed and confused. Gwen knew that Percy of all people would be aware that once they were on their career tracks, he would never see her again except for Christmas dinners. After all, the exact thing happened in their old life together; this world may be different from old Sydney, but many occurrences ran on parallel rails. "It's okay," Gwen said finally after a moment. "Thanks for caring." "I'll be in my room, got a lot of work to cover,” Percy replied in kind. He packed the paper plates and dropped them in the bin before returning to his room. "You do the pans." Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Gwen growled. This world or that one, she HATED doing the washing. Gwen pulled her face from the Primer manual spread out in front of her. After another more hours brushing up on theory, she once again felt the itch for some practicum. Their apartment was built on the top floor and had access to the rooftop, thanks to fire regulations. Gwen recalled the feeling of trying to summon the Mage Hand and found herself a comfortable spot in the sun. She opened the manuscript of Black’s Transmutation Cantrip for Beginners and turned the page. **Mage Hand** Conjuration, Cantrip Casting Time: 1 minor Incantation Range: Visual, up to ten metres Components: Somatic Duration: 1 minute + variable _The caster creates a hovering hand capable of manipulating small objects._ Gwen could see why the process was considered arcane. Beyond general advice, there was almost no indication on how to manifest the phenomenon; her manuscript was particular to the author. If she were to peruse different editions, they would possess different annotations. She calmed her mind and tried to think of nothing, banishing her anxieties and worries for the moment. Invoke the Sigil. Channel the mana. "Mage Hand!" And Release! In her mind's eye, she caught sight of a School-less Sigil, requiring no astral attunement. She felt something pour from her thoracic diaphragm and traverse under her skin. A tingling sensation exited her fingers with a lilac spark, then in front of her, a semi-transparent hand manifested. No, not a hand. It was more like a ‘presence’, a constrained force that was moulded and shaped by her will. She imagined it lifting up her manuscript, and felt the phantom feeling of weight upon her fingers. So that’s why it’s Phantom Hand, Gwen realised. It was much easier to replicate the arcane phenomenon by drawing upon physical synaesthesia. So that's somatic casting, Gwen mused to herself. Most spells required at least one free hand to indicate direction and expression. It took years of practice to forgo the somatic component, longer to forgo the verbal component. She played with the telekinetic hand for a minute, lifting and moving pots and plants that littered the rooftop, noting the diminishment of the spell’s effect over time. She wished that there was a numerical value to mana, but apparently, that was too difficult to apply systematically and universally. Additionally, as the spell drained mana from her Astral Body, she could feel the onset of a mental fatigue like the brain drain one felt when trying to solve a complicated equation for too long. Alright, she told herself. Not a bad start. Satisfied, she produced another textbook, Otsu's Primer for Evokers, and turned to the only level one Evoker spell without any elemental affinity - the ubiquitous Magic Missile. Magic Missile Evocation Casting Time: 1 Major Incantation Range: Visual, about 30 - 40 metres Components: Somatic Duration: Instantaneous. Launch three or more projectiles of force at a designated target. When used in its default capacity, this spell possesses line-of-sight target seeking. If she registered as a tier 1 Evoker, she would need to be sufficiently proficient in demonstrating an Evocation spell. Once again, Gwen uttered the invocation for the Evocation school. It felt stupid completing her invocation with a boisterous 'Magic Missile!', but she had no other instructions to follow. With measured confidence, her mind tapped into the celestial conduit of the Evocation Sigil. She tried to envision three objects of force, each shaped by a keen edge. Invoke the Sigil. Channel the mana. "Magic Missile!" And Release! The expectant thud of three projectiles chipping concrete did not manifest. Instead, a sudden, dizzying sickness overwhelmed her. With a violent start, she doubled over and retch up a serving of fried eggs, curling up upon the concrete pavement like a cooked prawn. Gwen groaned, keeping her head perpendicularly rested on the side as to avoid choking on her vomit. Insufficient ability to tap into the pathways of magical schools meant that unspent mana fed back into her body, the book had stated as much. After a quarter of an hour, she returned to the kitchen and washed out her mouth. No more chilli eggs before practising, Gwen reminded herself. She then returned to the rooftop and hosed down the area with the garden sprayer. The Primer inferred that the only way to overcome mana sickness was efficient activation of the Sigil, and that came with experience and talent - ideally a combination of the two. Gwen steeled her spine, settling again into her mind’s eye. Another episode of gut-wrenching nausea followed her second attempt. Right, no solid food before practice, Gwen cleaned up after herself. She felt the slow onset of despair as denial turned to anger. By her third attempt, Gwen failed to manifest the Sigil. She was mana drained, or as the popular parlance would have it- she was OoM, out of mana. No blue, no spell. An exacting law of Spellcraft. Three spells and I am out. Gwen thought to herself, feeling her mana recollect slowly. The more she failed, the more Gwen grew frightened of what her failure implied. Driven by tenacity as much as anxiety, she continued to experiment well into the evening, choosing to push past the toll it took on her physical body. When finally the last drop of stomach acid had been dry-heaved, she sat back in a daze and pondered the possibility of accepting her traumatising reality. She turned again to her books, trawling through every word and paragraph to find some clue. Had she been the scion of some great, influential house, they would have found Tutors, associates and allies to teach her, but Gwen was all on her own, and only she could be the instrument of her metamorphosis. 'Clang!' The mesh door opened behind her. The baritone voice of her father pierced through the threshold. “Good Gods!” Her father's eyes widened at the terrifying state of the rooftop, filled with scrunched kitchen wipes and the contents of his daughter’s digestive tract. “Hey Dad,” Gwen replied weakly. “Gwen! What are you doing! You little Idiot! You can’t rush these things!” Her father’s voice unusually worried and tender. He extended a hand and Gwen took it, feeling her father's affirming grip retrieve her from the floor. “I know, Dad. I had a long day, that's all,” Gwen returned. She regarded her other-father in the light of the mauve, dying sun, and saw in his eyes genuine worry. The Morye of this world was ruggedly handsome, with a chiselled jawline and high cheekbones carried over from his Eastern European heritage. His eyes, two dark brown orbs, were soft and gentle. Curiously, he was a few centimetres shorter than his teenage daughter, although considering her six-foot height, his limited stature was barely noticeable until they stood side by side. An imperturbable man of carefree nature, there was a quiet masculinity in Morye that seemed to attract particular types of women. “Thanks for asking,” Gwen answered softly, struggling to erase the edge in her voice. “Don’t be so cold,” her father responded, sensing the distance in his daughter. “Come on. I bought some wonderful stuff for dinner.” She returned with him down into the apartment, where Percy was setting up the dinner table. “Roast wild quail,” her father stated. “From the Wildlands. It should help you replenish your mana.” Unlike domesticated beasts, many of the flora and fauna that lived beyond the human cities possessed qualities beneficial to Mages. The culinary fare was another point of disparity that made Gwen’s desire to equalise her position more difficult. The scion of a wealthy Magus family would have consumed nought but quasi-magical diets throughout his or her life, and in a world where every ounce of mana counted, it made a significant difference. “Let's eat,” Percy begged. “I am a growing kid!” “Alright, go ahead." Gwen chuckled, sliding into her seat as her family dug into the food. “I am happy that you made it as a Mage,” her father said when the quail had gone the way of the dodo. “I am glad too,” Gwen remarked, unconvinced. “So, an Evoker huh?” Her father grinned. "It’s a great school for progression, pretty good for getting out there into the Green and Orange Zones.” “Yeah.” Gwen nodded, wondering if she should confess to her father that she was not technically a true Evoker, merely registered as one. “If there’s anything you need…” her father began. As her memories continued to meld, Gwen felt torn by a dissonance of logic and emotion. Her unbidden memories threw up a brief vision of her father disinterestedly watching her mother dash their dinner to pieces, sardonically putting an apathetic cigarette to his lips as she screamed and raged. The whole while, Percy hid in her room while Gwen had peeked from a gap in between her bedroom door. “It's okay Dad." Gwen recovered from the disturbing recollection. “I’ll manage, and I’ll let you know if I need anything, I promise.” “Alright.” Her father smiled wearily, unsurprisingly breathing out with evident relief. "You’re a big girl. You let me know.” With dinner over, Gwen wanted to return to the rooftop, but her father disallowed it, citing the disturbance it would cause to neighbours if they saw disorganised, impulsive flashes of mana blasting from their building. “Hey, before you go…” the man continued. Gwen could see her father's Adam's apple bobbing back and forth. It was a tic, her father always did this when he was forcing himself to commit to something. “Your grandfather gave me this when I came into my talent.” Morye removed a jade pendant in the shape of a Kirin, a mythical chimaera. “I want to give it to you, now that you too have become a Mage.” Gwen took the pendant in her hand and felt the residual warmth remaining on the jade. “Thanks, Dad, I'll cherish it,” Gwen replied, feeling surprised at her father's offer. From the corner of her eye, she could see Morye staring at the jade longingly for a moment more. When she looped the pendant on her neck, he seemed to resign himself to his decision. “I am glad to give it,” he said finally, giving Gwen the expression of one releasing some great burden. “Is it special in any way?” Gwen asked gingerly, testing the waters. “It brings fertility and fortune.” Her father laughed to himself. “Please be serious,” Gwen asserted coldly. “I have no idea.” Her father shrugged. “It's a keepsake from the old country.” “From Grandfather?” Gwen pushed the question a little more. Her father had very few triggers - though questioning how their family had become lost in the Old Country was one of them. “Go get some rest.” As expected, her father 's answer became evasive. A look of weathered annoyance spread across his scowling face. “You have a big day ahead," he warned her. “You need to report to your mother.” Her supper immediately threatened rebellion. "I am going to sleep." With dinner concluded, Gwen retired to her room. She slipped into a hot shower, summoning the meditative Zen of shower thoughts. _What a day._ She woke up firmly wedged between a rock and a hard place. Despite her best and most ardent attempts, it was impossible to invoke that damn Evocation Sigil. She had spent so much of her time reeling from illness, that she could not successfully evoke a tier 1 spell. A tier 1 spell! Gwen baulked at the thought. What would happen when she had to practice spells with two-digit incantations? Would her head explode like a crushed melon? Little wonder, so few people make it past Magus, she thought to herself. The mental toll could crack one's brain like an egg. Exhausted, she returned to the same bed from which she awoke, its sheets still unmade. Hopefully, when she woke up again, it would be beside seaside Sydney.

Turbulent thoughts tormented Gwen through the night. Why was she here? What happened to the teenage Gwen of this world? In fact, now that she thought about it, what about her thirty-year-old body? Would her secretary, Becky, find her boss in a state of decomposition? Would the Sun Herald report on her mysterious demise with the headline, 'Woollahra Woman Mysteriously Dead: Face eaten by her two Cats! Pictures Inside!'? Hovering above and watching herself below, her body began to writhe on the bed, softly whimpering as if taken by a night terror. Within her mind, her twin animus folded upon themselves like origami. Collapsing, collating and condensing until her consciousness became obscure and ambiguous. The scene of her Awakening once again flashed upon her inward eye. Little squiggly Sigils crawled across her vision, manifestations from a feverish brain. In anger, she reached out and grasped at the illusive glyphs, tearing from the celestial nebulas handfuls of stardust. Once again, there were two of her: one crackling with energy, the other glowering with obsidian malevolence, consuming one another like dissolving twin-stars. Whenever a sliver of shadow broke from the confines of her body, a stab of lightning banished it below the surface. Where the light had filled her to the point of bursting, the shadow consumed it for fuel. Her existential struggle continued until it assumed the shape of a lithe female silhouette, an obsidian glass sculpture. Slowly, her consciousness settled back into her body, forever anchored to its host upon the Material Plane. Gwen felt as though she had witnessed the tapestry of the universe, an interplay of Eros and Thanatos. From one came two, from two came three, then from three, came the COSMOS. Gwen awoke in the late morning, exhausted by insomnia. Every bone in her body felt sundered as she lay in bed, paralysed within a pool of salty perspiration. Jesus. Gwen pressed her swollen eyes. Had she been crying? Her lips were parched, and her tongue was on fire; she needed a drink desperately. Painfully, like lifting a dumbbell, she moved an arm across her chest. With a grunt of wilful imposition, Gwen threw herself from the bed in a moment of dizzying weakness. She struck the carpet below, taking deep lungfuls of air, each gasp sending electric shocks through her torso. Was this the price of training foolishly and unwisely? Gwen tried to recall her actions from last night. Was it was impossible to overcome talent with effort? Leaning against her nightstand, Gwen stood; her trembling legs may as well be wet spaghetti. She checked her clock. 11:00. “Aw shit,” she cursed. She was going to be late for her mother; a direr prospect than trying to move her battered body. Forcing herself into the shower, Gwen leaned against the cold tile and let the warm water run over her. The steam soothed her bruised tendons and eased the dryness in her throat. When was the last time she cried? Gwen herself did not recall having such moments of emotional vulnerability, at least not since her old world family had gone their own way. But her youthful body was only fifteen, a vulnerable, hormonal flesh and blood biochemical construct undergoing puberty. She felt the dissonance between her helpless psyche and her temperamental physique distinctly, making her simultaneously young and old. Gwen turned off the tap. Now, she must meet her other-mother. Within a particular section of her wardrobe was kept all the presents gifted to her by her mother. By Helena's decree, whenever they met, Gwen should publically display her appreciation for her mother’s “tender loving care”. A dizzying array of dresses presented themselves. With a sharp eye, she picked out a blue Miu Miu one-piece pleated skirt with rounded French collars and a pair of Mary Janes which the old Gwen kept polished to a dazzling shine. From another draw, Gwen unfolded a velvet package and retrieved a leather handbag she couldn't possibly afford. The selection suited her skinny, adolescent body well. After brushing down her defiant hair and touching up her brows and lashes, she flew down six flights of stairs to the tune of clicking heels. As she staggered out the door, Gwen observed that her alter ego disliked the feeling of having her legs bared to the world, fearing that her long and shapely limbs drew unwanted attention. Presently, however, she cared little for such immature self-consciousness. A woman's beauty was her own; she could damn well do as she pleased. The station was only a few minutes away from her habitat-block. The Forestville to City-Circle was far more crowded than Gwen expected, and by the time the 'all stop to Central' pulled past Redfern, it was jam-packed. Lulled by the beat of the train's wheels against the tracks, she thought of her mother and how she would broach the subject of her lack-lustre, uncompetitive Awakening, hopefully not giving herself away in the process. In this world or the other, her relationship with her mother was tumultuous at best. Gwen knew from experience that behind the facade of their cordial monthly meetings and trendy, expensive dinners was the expectation that she would not fail her mother’s Great Expectations. "Erh..." A reflexive moan issuing forth from her lips took Gwen by surprise. She quickly turned her body against the crowd of impatient passengers to hide her flushing face. The mere thought of Helena's frigid face made her want to suck in her gut. Get a grip girl! Gwen commanded her unruly teenage body. Was she ever this emotionally unstable? “!” Her meditative introspection was rudely interrupted by a tactile invasion creeping up her thighs, sending goosebumps up the entirety of her torso. There was suddenly the horrid, slimy sensation of a foreign appendage pressing against her buttocks. Her immediate reaction was to freeze up like a deer caught in the path of a Fireball, her body turning rigid as paralytic shock overwhelmed all awareness. Gwen! GET A GRIP! Through sheer force of will, her all-consuming rage restored some of her mobility. This assault on her person was an outrage! She was being invaded and violated. She required the immediate expulsion of her offender from the world of the living! Slowly, she turned her face, bringing the full force of her heterochromatic hazel eyes to bear. 'CRACK!' An odour of ozone filled the air. Unbidden, the tension drained from her body. Gwen felt the snap of something unleashed, a violent flash of mana igniting the conduits of her body, accompanied by the dizzying sensation of mana drain. A Tyrian-purple shunt of electricity ran along the metallic door of the carriage, crawling across its surface as a fissure of lightning. Above, Lumen-bulbs grew several magnitudes brighter before bursting in a shower of sparks, sending its diffused mana all over the cabin. An alarm screamed through the carriage as the public display panel began to screech. “Spells are forbidden on public transports.” “Violation of the Transport Safety Act is a federal offence.” “Remain calm as officers will momentarily be onsite.” “Remain still. Scrying spells are in effect,” a chirpy female voice informed the passengers. A circumference of space cleared around Gwen. Murmurs of disbelief passed between passengers. It was evident who the miscreant had been. A young man with a terrified mien and Einstein-hair sat on his bottom, a wet patch on his pants where a single pulse of electricity had made him instantly incontinent. “Spare me please,” the offender moaned. “I didn't mean it, it… it was an accident.” “Holy crap did you see that?” “A Quasi-elemental Mage!” “What an unlucky bastard…” “That's like assaulting a Magical Beast in public…” someone joked. “God, I wish I awakened as a Quasi-elementalist.” A passenger sighed. “I hope there's not going to be a delay,” a more pragmatic voice joined the first. Below her, the young man whimpered. “I didn't know! I didn't…” her assailant grovelled. A feeling of disgust aside, Gwen was just as shocked as her offender. What the hell was that!? Gwen tried to recall the last ten seconds. The man's filthy paw and touched her buttocks, then sparks were flying every which way. Gwen quickly searched within herself and felt an absence of mana. She had invoked something, no doubt about that, but how had she done it?! The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. The far side of the carriage slid open, and a path was made by the crowd to admit the attending officers. Their uniforms revealed them to be RailCorp Mages, both conductor and guard. “Alright, clear out,” commanded the lead officer in his navy uniform. “Who cast the lightning spell?” When they saw that the crowd had made a circle around Gwen, their attitude became incredulous. “G’day.” One of them tipped his hat. “Can someone tell me what happened here?” A dozen voices spoke at once, with the two officers taking note of the consensus. “What do you have to say for yourself?” One of them questioned the offender, having already framed the occurrence within his mind. “It… it was an accident…” the young man maintained. “NoM.” The senior the Officers pinched the bridge of his nose. “You better be sure of what you’re saying, because of two reasons. One, you just assaulted a Mage, and Two…” He turned to Gwen. “Miss, we are going to need your student I.D.” “Yessir,” Gwen replied demurely and produced her I.D from her handbag. “… and TWO, you assault a minor.” The man’s face was ashen and dripping. “… which means, for either infringement, we’re authorised to use Mind-Magic on you.” The officer smirked smugly, “So, NoM, what'll it be?” “I tried to touch her inappropriately…” Her offender confessed, yielding like a bag of soaked ramen. “Now then.” The Officers noted each other's acknowledgement before turning to Gwen politely. “Your I.D please young lady… You’re not in too much trouble, but it is still a crime to use a spell on the public transit system.” Gwen recognised in the Officer's halting tone that there was wiggle room in the man's edict. In addition to the trouble that would come with being charged with a public offence, having a record would impress her academic record poorly. While pondering her next course of action, Gwen felt a breeze pass between her legs. Her alter ego would have burst into tears, but Gwen was no shrinking violet. Men, particularly men in positions of power, responded very well to vulnerability. “I am sorry.” Gwen made herself smaller, leaning a little against the pane of the door so that it accentuated her long white legs. She looked up at the officers with downcast eyes moist with distress. “I didn't know that someone would grab me by the… the…tooshie…” She opted for a more juvenile lexicon. She was just fifteen, after all. “I was so scared… I lost control; I am not very good at spells… I had Awoken yesterday…” The Officers' faces grew full of empathy and compassion. This poor girl! Such a sweet little thing! To give her a record would surely ruin her life - all because of this scum sucking NoM! Some human garbage no better than fodder for the Goblins! “We’ll just take a record, Miss.” The senior of the two seemed to have made up his mind. “There will be no charges. Anyone can see that it was a genuine accident.” When Gwen put her hand on her chest and felt her heart flutter, she was no longer acting. The mind was competent, but the body was inadequate. “Thank you,” she replied sweetly, her face glowing with happiness. Aww, the crowd cooed. The assembly within the carriage nodded in satisfaction. Justice had transpired. This incident would make a pleasant luncheon conversation, accompanied by smashed avocados. When the train pulled up to Central, the officers took down Gwen's details. Gwen bid them a G'day before realising with renewed dread that she was now indubitably late for her mother's appointment. Exiting Central, she began to sprint. Clicking, clacking and turning heads wherever she went. Gwen soon arrived at Sheraton by the Park, where undoubtedly her mother was on the verge of burning down the hotel. "Ma'am?" A footman gazed over's Gwen's panting form appreciatively. Gwen straightened her hair with her hands and followed the footman into the cafe. She didn't have to look far for her mother. Helena Huang always occupied the most conspicuous space. Helena sat at the bar with a too tight dress that hugged her curvaceous body ridiculously. Her mother was tall and voluptuous but had a way of carrying her sumptuous flesh sensually as some women can. Even indoors she wore the classic brown Gucci shades that covered her face, framed by a mass of cascading black ringlets. Her scissored legs revealed toned, tanned thighs still supple and tight, her bosoms pressed to create an intrusive cleavage that drew furtive glances from men and women across the room. “I am sorry I am late!” Gwen declared with a distinctively sweet voice that escaped her lips reflexively. Helena swivelled in a manner that made it seemed as though there was a camera somewhere. Her mother took off her sunglasses with a swish of her voluminous hair to reveal dark eyeliners and too-thick lashes framing a vivid pair of eyes. “My lovely Guinevere,” her mother intoned in that sickly-rich voice of hers, full of promise for exciting things. Gwen’s real name was the same, but her mother would have liked it be something with more, ‘culture,’ as she put it. Crossing the floor, the sensuous woman embraced her lithe daughter, forming an enviable arch of femininity. A blooming teenage, a loving mother, a backdrop of flowers and desserts at the high tea room of the Hyde Park Sheraton - that was Helena's perfect world. Despite being an hour late, the Maitre d’ micromanaged a free table for the two, at which point mother and daughter settled down to cakes, cups, and ices. Watching her mother leaving a perfect lip print on the china gave Gwen heartburn. The high tea was a rare treat, though right now, even Royal Earl Grey turned her stomach. After struggling to deliver a strawberry shortcake to her lips and failing to swallow the tarty dessert, Gwen opted to just come out with the truth. “So…” she coughed politely behind a serviette, “I got tested for aptitude yesterday, and I am an Evoker.” Her mother’s hazel eyes were two balls of amber-green ice. “That’s wonderful dear,” her mother spoke in a manner filled with indifference. They said that the worst form of neglect wasn't aversion, but the cessation of care. "And?" “Just… Evoker.” Gwen willed herself to look, but her body dared not meet her mother’s eyes. Helena's irises were even more striking than Gwen's, a rarified green with concentric yellow rings which delivered the terrifying impression of a tigress eyeballing its prey. “I … see.” Her mother smiled, but it was a smile with teeth. They drank the tea in silence. Gwen wondered what went through her other mother's head. She knew that her maternal Clan was very wealthy in Sydney. Helena's brother and his wife were mediocre Mages, but opportunistic real estate brokers. Their son, Richard, attended The Prince’s College, the premier private magical institution in Sydney as a Water Conjurer. Gwen's widowed grandfather was once a famed Enchanter, though now dangerously senile. Helena must have hoped against hope that Gwen would give her something to brag about to her brother, but that daydream had now died a dog’s death. “Mother, I was groped by a guy on the train,” Gwen said suddenly, the words blurting out of her mouth as though possessing a mind of their own. “I managed a spell discharge…” “It's getting late,” her mother interjected suddenly. "Mother..." “Gwen. It is rather late.” Helena repeated herself, her tone frosty with rime. When Gwen regained control of her body and attempted to salvage some dignity, her mother's expression soured. Did Helena think she was lying to diffuse her anger? Trying to score pity marks? Not even her original mother had been this bad! You selfish bitch! She wanted to shout. Her body responded by cramping up. “Next time?” Gwen heard herself bleat, her guts pantomiming a pretzel. Jesus, I am a grown woman… Her face flushed red with frustration and distress. What had Helena done to this poor girl? The Pavlovian response from her teenage body was beyond Gwen's mastery. “I’ll call.” Her mother replied, her eyes already in another place. "Goodbye." Gwen made it as far as Hyde Park before she felt the impulse to tear off her expensive dress and gift her Chanel bag to the nearest hobo. She wanted to cry; God knows she could use a good scream and howl. The soft fabrics of her expensive attire irritated her skin. She stood under the iconic cypresses that lined the World War I memorial and tried to recollect herself as logic and psychosis jostled for control. The struggle proved futile. Her whole body shook uncontrollably; she wanted to vomit. Something unspeakable bubbled forth from the dark recess of her tenebrous psyche. "Blurrgh!" Up came the high tea, together with a resonating eruption of mana from her Astral Form. A feeling of self-loathing overwhelmed her as an inexplicable hunger course through her body. A shunt of dark energy, visible only at the edge of vision, encompassed her immediate surroundings. The lush lawn beneath her feet began to tear and disintegrate as abrasions lashed the trunk of the giant cypress, gouging grooves across the blond flesh. The effect seemed to last only a second, but her vitality was drained beyond measure. Her world began to spin as she slumped against the cypress, collapsing in a heap against its withered roots. Gwen sat with a start, her body aflame with aching joints and tender flesh. She shivered in her sweat-soaked mini-dress. Did I lose conscious in the middle of the city, in a public space?! Gwen marvelled at her inopportune epilepsy. She’s damn lucky she didn't get assaulted or worse! Instinctively, she felt for her bag, the absurdly expensive, near one of a kind handbag from her mother. Naturally, it had found a better, more astute owner. Now she felt like crying, and not on behalf of her alter-ego either. This despair was her own, trying to come to terms with the succession of fucked up events that seem to pile on without end. First, she Awakened to become trash. Then, she gets molested on the train. Now she falls unconscious and gets robbed. Maybe she'll get groped on the way back too, completing the fucking quad-factor. Gwen felt that if she cried right here, right now, there would be no shame; she deserved a little emotional bloodletting, grown woman or otherwise. Not to mention she was indeed bleeding. Her Message Device, her 'phone' was gone as well, as was her cash. Thankfully, she still had an ID, a currency card, and a train ticket in her skirt-pocket. Gwen stared blankly at the battered tree in front of her, some asshole had vandalised the park. Nothing was sacred in this world. She looked about her dazedly. It was only her second day and already she could do with an overdose of Celexa and Buspar washed down with a double shot of Don Julio. Her dress was soiled, her shoes dusty and the leather scuffed. Her exposed thighs were covered in goosebumps, unprepared to face the cooling dusk. Her wounded knee stun. She just wanted to go home. She had her ticket, that was good enough, for now. She stumbled to her feet, her hands brushing down her dress. It would need to be dry cleaned. More money, more costs she couldn't afford. Like the blood, her mood consisted of a rusty, oozy melancholy. I guess this is how people get suicidal, Gwen thought to herself, watching the trains pull in. What a fucking day. She stopped by the police box in Central and made a report. She left the Officers her father’s Message Glyph, then stumbled her way toward the platform for South Sydney. On the train, she hugged herself tightly against the pane of the double doors, the very picture of pity. With her blemished dress and a freshly scabbed knee, she must have thoroughly kindled the imagination of her fellow travellers. By the time Forestville rolled around, she had politely explained to several Samaritans that she was alright and was now going home. At Redfern, she had threatened to call the Railcorp guards when a salacious salary man assumed she was homeless and wanted to know her nightly rate. When she finally opened the door to her apartment in what felt like a return trip to Mordor, sans Eagles, she was faced down by the surprised expression of her father. “I got a call from the police…” he began, but Morye's face wasn't one of worry. It instead carried a look of guilt, like a child who'd been caught red-handed. She was being rude, Gwen knew, but she was too mentally and physically drained to deal with her father right now. She pushed past Morye and made for the kitchen, where the family kept the medicine box. “Hey! Go to your room...” Gwen looked toward her father. A woman called out from the kitchen. “Morye, is everything alright?” It was a voice she had never heard before. Gwen was very good with voices. Fuck! Gwen heard herself scream internally. FUCK! She was moving out next week, but this fucking guy. This selfish piece of shit! Would it kill her Dad to wait five fucking days before fucking a woman in the living room? Where the fuck was Percy? Why isn't he saying anything? Unwashed and no longer giving a shit, Gwen stumbled into her room while her father commanded her angrily to stay. Slamming the door, she locked it behind her. What new fucking wonders would tomorrow bring? Gwen thought to herself bitterly. Her body struck the bed, and her mind became full of darkness.

There's blood on her sheets. That is, Gwen's scraped knee had bled over her sheets. Pulling the gauzy cotton painfully from her skin, she stripped the linen from her bed. The last thing Gwen wanted to hear was her father's new bimbo having a crack at her bloody sheets. Gwen took a moment to compose her thoughts. Yesterday was behind her, and today was a new day. Shit happens. At work, at home, at the bar. But life had a habit of going head regardless. While discretely dealing with the evidence, she mentally listed critical events moving forward: 1\. Register with the school's dorms. 2\. Sort out accommodation, hopefully with Yue. 3\. Move stuff to the dorms and leave Morye behind forever. 4\. Prepare for two years of Spellcraft boot camp. 5\. Attend University - AGAIN. Become the greatest Mage of her generation. 6\. Earn millions or billions, whose's counting? 7\. Buy a new bayside house and retire with two cats. MAGICAL ONES. 8\. Life, back on track! Well, she snorted. Maybe just the first four for now. That, and she needed a hot shower. The tap screeched; a torrent of lukewarm water brought back her motivation for living. Gwen washed off the grime and dirt, making sure to pick apart her wounds for whatever part of Hyde Park that came home with her. Her mangled dermis stung like a bitch. Knowing that her father and brother were out, she allowed herself the liberty of walking around the apartment in her towels, enjoying a glass of cold milk as her injury aired out. The cramped abode had no large windows and thus offered no risk of unwanted exposure. When she had sufficiently dried herself, Gwen folded away her Miu-Miu dress for dry cleaning, packed away her shoes after applying some fix-it polish, and dressed in a cheap linen skirt hanging droopily just above her wounded knee. I was a wizard once, but then I took a Magic Missile to the knee. She mused alone before becoming even more depressed. She rummaged through her closet and found the school diary, an old thing that they gave out every year. Gwen scanned the pages, found Yue’s number, then dialled it into the ancient corded phone that they kept near the kitchen. "Yue, it's me." “Hello? Who's this?” Yue’s voice sounded suspicious. "It's me, Gwen," Gwen appended just in case. "Bloody hell, Gwen," Yue groaned. "I've been trying to call your Message Device since yesterday! Did you hear about our dorm arrangement?!" "Dorm arrangement?" "YEAH!" Yue's voice blasted her over the speaker. "It's bullshit!" "Wha?" Gwen was now thoroughly confused. "Didn't you check your phone?" Yue asked, "They sent out a Message yesterday." "Ah...." Gwen knew then that she had to share. "My phone. Right. Well, I got a hell of a story to tell..." The Message had informed students that they had to find a roommate or be assigned one. Furthermore, registration was on a first-come, first-serve basis. Thus far, barring three misfits, all the students had already registered. Misfit One was Yue, who had been waiting on Gwen, who had been AWOL. Misfit Two was Gwen, who was having suicidal thoughts. Finally, there was misfit Three, the quiet Elvia, whom despite her sudden, unexpected fame, had no friends with whom to share a room. As such, the trio received the use of a staff room where all three would have to share a common area, with the advantage of having an ensuite to themselves. The news would have been a remarkable boon for Gwen and Yue, but now they had a tag-along - Elvia Lindholm. Yue continued to rant in that endearing but offensive vernacular of hers as Gwen searched her memory for information on their third wheel. Elvia was the kind of girl that was ever present but never seen or heard. She tried to recall the girl's face, but remembered only long, ash-blonde bangs that covered her eyes. She seldom spoke, and rarely interacted with others except when necessary, when she did, her soft voice that made one strain to hear. She was short for her age, maybe edging past a meter-fifty, skinny too, giving the impression of one much younger. That was it. That was all Gwen knew about this girl. A vague idea of what she looked like, and her unassuming hairstyle. "Right? RIGHT?" Yue demanded on the other end of the phone. "Yep, total bull," Gwen replied, having missed about half of what Yue had just splurted. "So how about you?" Yue asked, her voice becoming tender. "Shit's pretty shitty, but it doesn't stop us from having a nice meet up on the city right? Wanna talk?" "I think I had enough of the city," Gwen replied. "Love to meet up though, what you got in mind?" "Wanna check out the dorm then?" Yue replied. "You gonna bring any furniture? I think the mail said all the usual furnishings are standardised, but you get to bring some crap along anyway, I wanna see how much room we have." "Its close to the school, yeah?" "Pretty much, its the apartment block directly behind it." Gwen thought about it. She could walk to the station and catch a bus direct, as it was a weekday. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "Alright, see you there in an hour?" "Cool, I am shouting you lunch," Yue added. "No need." "Too bad," Yue insisted sweetly. "After what you went through, you could use some sweet, sweet calories." Gwen smiled. There was a reason she thought of Yue so often, even after they went their separate ways. “Cheers, luv. See ya." Gwen hung up and felt far less fatigued than before. She was ready for a bit of that soulful healing they sang about in songs. Unlike yesterday, it only took her a few minutes to get ready, no need for makeup or lashes, just a dab of lipgloss, a quick hammering of her unruly long hair, and she was out. Ignoring her smarting knee, Gwen pushed past the pain and made haste for the familiar comfort of her dear friend. When the bus pulled up to the school gate, Yue was already waiting for her. It was break time for the juniors, and the fire Evoker already had a dozen of them making moon-eyes at her. The ones closest to Yue and trying to strike up a conversation were all girls, adorable juniors who wanted to know the secret of her Awakening. The boys hung back more apprehensively - Yue's reputation for having a barbed tongue preceded her. "Gwen!" Yue breathed a sigh of relief. "Hey." Gwen waved back. "Who's that?" Someone asked. "Gwen Song." "A nobody..." "I heard she’s a NoM." "What a nuisance," a girl added unkindly. "Shut your pie holes!" Yue shouted at the juniors, silencing them at once. "Stupid fuckwits." Had Gwen done what Yue just did, some of the juniors would have demanded to duel her. Yue, however, possessed the countenance of a Conjurer barking orders at her summons. "Let's go." Yue urged Gwen to move. "Are they staying together?" a student demanded incredulously. "That's so unfair," a junior wailed. "I want to room with Yue..." Yue dragged Gwen along until they were out of sight. "You alright?" she asked, a little guilty for the display. "Yeah, I am fine," Gwen replied, glad to be out of the limelight. The duo made their way past the schoolhouse and into the residential zone that Blackwattle had prepared for its Spellcraft students. It was an old apartment, likely built in the first reclamation in the 80s, with a distinct Brutalist facade which said, come wind, rain, or Thunder Elemental, I am here to stay. The building's levitation platform was a freight-lift, rumbling unhappily up the shaft until it reached the top level. The staff room was no penthouse, but it offered a beautiful view of the city and the Barrier Shield that extended into the harbour. At the entrance of 1201, they were surprised to find that the door was unlocked. The girls exchanged a glance, then turned the handle. What greeted them was the small figure of a girl with ash blonde hair, holding a dress in one hand and a coat hanger in another. Their intruder stared back, eyes wide with shock, the very picture of a doe the moment before it was incinerated by a Scorching Ray. “… ...” there was a silent scream. The girl had made the right expression but what emerged instead was a kind of half choked, half muffled yelp. “Hello there…” Gwen said. “…” “I am Gwen Song." “…” We are going off to a good start. Gwen thought. “You a mute or something?” Yue asked suddenly. “…” Gwen pulled her friend's elbow. Elvia is a healer! She's a koala bear! You (Yue) can't go around bullying koalas. “…. No.” A soft voice whimpered, sharp and high pitched, like the trill of a nightingale. “You got like, a condition or something?” Yue kept on with her interrogation. “Don't you think it's good form to ask our permission before you start unpacking your things?” Elvia looked up; her eyes brimming with apprehension. To their surprise, their intruder had a small face that was alluring and white, pale like milk; possessing a button nose that gave her the impression of a pixie or a fairy. Her lips, pink and delicate, was also pale and bloodless. Combined with her luminous ocean-blue eyes, she reminded Gwen of those uncanny character-actors who played Disney princesses. Gwen's heart melt like Devondale butter under a December sun. The stunned expression, the soft eyes, the pale face - her maternal instincts were tripping every alarm in her body. Yue was an only child, and she couldn't possibly understand how Gwen felt. Gwen had raised Percy in her mother’s absence and desired more than anything to have a cute little sister she could hug and adore and cuddle. Without a word, Gwen reached out to Elvia and pulled her to her chest. “Yue, not another word.” Gwen made eyes at her friend that said she'd take care of it. Yue maintained her cynicism as Gwen felt Elvia’s rigid body stiffen. The petite girl only reached her shoulders; her head was just the right height for Gwen to rest her chin. There was a delicious scent of expensive shampoo. “There, there,” Gwen comforted the frightened little creature, gazing into Elvia’s eyes with her most sisterly expression. There was an attraction there, nothing unbecoming of course, but an attraction nonetheless. Gwen felt strangely drawn, as though something about Elvia completed her in an inexplicable way. “I am sorry,” Elvia stammered. “I didn't want to be a bother when you two are moving in.” “Is that right?” Yue demanded sceptically. “It's fine.” Gwen gave both of the girls a reassuring glance. “We’re here to have a look at the room. You’re no bother. I am Gwen Song, and this is Yue Bai, her name means white moon.” “The fire Mage?” Elvia asked, her eyes lighting up. “The one and only.” Gwen nodded. The girls measured one another with their eyes. “I am Elvia Lindholm,” Elvia answered after an eternity. “It's a pleasure to meet you both.” The diminutive girl looked up at Gwen. “Where are you from?” Elvia asked in that soft timbre of hers. It was not an unusual question. In an overtly multicultural city like Sydney, people were often inquisitive about where one was from, at least originally. “I was born here, but my family came from all over,” Gwen satiated Elvia's curiosity. Her eyes, her height, her hair, nothing seemed to come as a racial set. “My mother is mixed South East Asian, my father is Russian - Chinese, from near the Sino Fault.” Elvia’s mouth formed an ‘o’ of wonderment. “You're so pretty.” Elvia blushed adorably, then noted that Gwen held her shoulders protectively. “So tall,” the girl added enviously. Yue coughed, thrusting out her best features. “You’re … very pretty too,” Elvia added, her eyes becoming as large as ping pong balls. “I love your… erm…blouse.” “I think we'll get along fine,” Gwen concluded with confidence. “Like a house on fire,” Yue added with a grin that showed her pearly whites. Elvia glanced at Yue shudderingly before being assuaged by Gwen that all evidence aside, Yue was not a deranged pyro. Greetings accomplished, the girls went on to conduct the business of sharing a room. The spacious common area was divided into three sections, with each side having a bed, wardrobe, wall mounted cabinet and a study desk. The foot of the bed had an enchanted storage chest linked to their mana signature. The third wall contained the shared bathroom. The room furthermore possessed a small kitchenette, the kind one found in served apartments. The girls soon agreed on their respective areas of privacy. "Oh!" Elvia interjected. "Gwen! You're bleeding!" Gwen looked down. "Ah bugger," she cursed. Her wound was indeed weeping. "Don't touch it." Elvia stopped her before Gwen could dab her knee with a tissue. "I can help." Kneeling in front of Gwen, she placed her hands just above Gwen's wound. "Healing Touch!" A ticklish, tingling sensation crawled up Gwen's leg. "Oh!" Gwen fought an impulse to kick out. The itching grew unbearable. "All done!" Elvia stood back proudly. Gwen looked down. The scab fell away, revealing pink flesh. HOLY SHIT! Her mind rioted. REAL LIFE HEALING MAGIC? "What do you like to eat?" Gwen asked the girls, flexing her knee. "My shout!" After some deliberation, the trio made for Market City, where cheap, greasy food was sold daily by the ton. "I don't usually eat out..." Elvia confessed, expecting mockery and displeasure. "Yeah, I usually just eat home too," Gwen confessed in turn, somewhat misreading the sentiment. “It's much cheaper just to have toast." "Oh, Gods," Yue, who was a foodie, rolled her eyes, "This one time, Gwen placed a piece of soft bread between two toasted multigrain bread, and called it a sandwich..." "That sounds... delicious?" Elvia envisioned the spectacle in her head. "But can't you put something else in the middle?" "This one time I put leftover stir-fry, it was awesome." Gwen’s morale had now recovered enough to revealing her culinary secrets. Her knee was 100% recovered. "Its even better if you can cram some SPAM in there." Yue made a gagging motion, which made Elvia laugh. Her new roommates were far too comfortable with one another. The pacing of their interactions threw off her mental metronome immensely. The girls made their way around town and were on their third serve of sweet nothings when Elvia announced that any more food and she would burst at the seams. Beside her, Gwen and Yue continued to eat. Elvia shuddered. The appetite of her new friends was a terrifying thing!

The week came and went, then it was time for Gwen to go. With her father's latest lover still lounging in the living room, Gwen felt no obligation for an amicable departure as the last of her boxes were packed. Her only regret was leaving Percy. Her brother seemed precociously aware that in a few years, the distance between himself and his sister would only continue to grow. As such, their parting the night before had been bittersweet. The guilt of having left her little brother in her past life, combined with the sentimentality of her usurped experiences, made the moment melancholic. They would always be siblings, of course, but this was a world far more meritocratic than her old one. Already, even at the tender age of thirteen, she could sense the wane kindness in his face. He possessed a natural arrogance born out of necessity and circumstance. Percy attended a Selective High School. Their Aunty once said that if he awakened 'properly', she would move him to Prince's with a paid-tuition. When Gwen tried to impart her worldly wisdom for the last time; Percy had the glazed look of someone who thought very little of her advice. No heartfelt hugs, no thunderous dramatics. Just a wry smile. "That all Miss?" The Removalist topped up his three-wheeled trolley and asked for final confirmation. Gwen looked back at the Forestville apartment and saw her father still fuming in the kitchen, her brother's door slightly ajar. "Yeah." She shut the front door. "That's it." The last of the boxes were pressed and packed for recycling as Gwen sat on the single bed of her new home for the next two years. Yue wouldn't be here for another day. Elvia said she would be moving in on the first day of the new term, the following Monday. For the moment then, Gwen had the place to herself. She resented these moments, for idle minds grew anxious. I was one traveller, long I stood... looked down one as far as I could... Brambles permeated her path, and she had no idea where the road bent in the undergrowth. A week into her new life, the wisdom of her old world was all the evidence she had of her former self. If she were to re-live her teenagehood, how was her old world knowledge going to help her Spellcraft? Magic ignored every rule of natural philosophy she knew; she couldn't just pull a wonderful Wizard of Oz, could she? Would scientific charlatanism be enough to walk the path of Spellcraft? On that note, Gwen sighed. The more she learned about the road ahead, the less confident she grew. She had a year and a half of senior education which she had to complete. Within that time, the Mages who were talented and those who were mediocre were divided again into separate vocations. Those with talent sought higher education, entering Mandatory Military Service as junior officers. Those without the talent joined foundational training in industries beginning their military service as grunts. Mandatory Military Service. She had baulked when Yue began to boast about how much she looked forward to her rite of passage. Actual combat? Against Monsters? Gwen struggled to visualise the event. She's going to be Spellfodder, Gwen moped. Think positive, think positive! She reversed gears, chanting to herself like a mantra. There was nothing to be done now, nothing but the coming on of human sleep. Yue arrived in a day later, accompanied by her father who acted as her manual labourer. Mr Bai had known Gwen since they were young and so had asked her to look after his hot-headed daughter. Together they unpacked and waited for their third member. "Where's your Mum?" Gwen asked. "She doesn't like to be in a place full of Mages; you know that, right?" Yue pushed a box under her bed. "My mom's pretty sensitive about her NoM status. My talent has got her in a good mood though. She's been bragging to her family for the last week. I think the whole neighbourhood knows." "Hahaha," Gwen chuckled. Even in this world, Yue's boisterous mother was the same. 'Ding!' A Message spell bloomed beside Gwen's ear. "Looks like Elvia's here early," Gwen remarked. "She's down below." A gargantuan Mercedes S-Class pulled up at the front of the apartment. A manservant opened the door for Elvia as another, the driver, took out her luggage. The vehicle would not have caused such a stir if they were in Pineford’s Ladies College up the Shore, but here was Blackwattle! It was a government-sanctioned Spellcraft school with blue-collar kids. Even the staff were a humbled bunch, been retired Mages from different government industries, as well as the Military. To the dismay of the academy cohort, Elvia exchanged cheeks with Gwen and Yue, then together, the trio made for the ‘penthouse’ suite. Chinese whispers ran rampant within the hour. Tales told of Gwen worming her deceptive way into the friendship of her better peers. Others declared that Gwen was a rebellious gal who ran a gang and imperilled the two into accepting her. Another contested that Gwen was, in fact, the bastard daughter of a politician who used his influence to set her up with illicit means of success. The truth behind the schoolyard jealousy was of course, merely one of pragmatism. During the summer semester, the school held a government-sanctioned live-combat examination, known euphemistically as the Field Trip. For this field assignment, Mages were set up in 'Parties' of five. Naturally, everyone wanted to be on the team with a Healer and the top damage dealing acolyte of the academy. All the A-team needed to add was an Abjurer, and they were good to go. How had Gwen Song ingratiated herself into the A-Team effortlessly? Who does she think she is? The academic term plodded along, bulldozing forward without a care for the student's natural abilities. Blackwattle was, after all, a Public School with no time to spare for those who faltered. As for Gwen, her classes underscored current magical theory, progressing through a dozen topics interchangeably given by staff and guest speakers. Gwen marked off November with an impending sense of dread. Every waking hour had been spent studying by herself, or with Elvia and Yue, who supplemented her work. **Astral Theory** **Theory of Mana** **Senior Spellcraft 101** **Enchantments and Constructs** **Study of Magical Creatures** Amongst the all-important subjects were also the necessities of life in the modern world. Arts, Natural Philosophy, and Home Economics - a topic insultingly catered only for the girls. Furthermore, Spellcraft students received two vital but limited resources: Low-Density Mana Crystals identified as LDMs and an allocated time in the Cognisance Chamber. LDMs were used to replenish mana quickly, allowing students more practice with aligning their astral presence, drawing upon the elemental planes to manifest phenomena. Invocation practice was an all-important daily ritual for most students, as the constant process of draining, using, and channelling mana made one's capacity for Spells higher in both volume and flux. The instructors described the process as akin to physical training, wherein only by pushing oneself to exhaustion with constant strain and repetition can one's proficiency for affinity and Sigil increase. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Conversely, the Cognisance Chamber was a quasi-magical chamber constructed to allow Mages to see within themselves and visualise their links to the elemental planes to which they were interconnected. As it was impossible for the average Acylote to comprehend Astral Theory, the chamber cognitively generated Illusion, allowing the Acylote to 'interact' with their Astral Bodies. The education wasn't holistic, but the Frontier's purpose, after all, was to put bodies behind mana engines, barriers and factories, not produce scholars. Pushing herself to study, Gwen voraciously acquired an entire lexicon during her remedial, chief of which was an understanding of 'Affinity'. Talent Affinity signified the ease of manifesting phenomena from a particular School of Magic, as well as reducing spell fatigue. Elemental Affinity increased power and reduced cost. When queried, Yue anecdotally drew upon the ubiquitous Fireball, her most desired Evocation. "The higher my affinity, the hotter my flame, the more penetrative my strike, and the larger my area of effect. Concurrently, I got lower casting cost and therefore lesser risk of mana burn." Additionally, Mages could attune themselves with Elemental Spirits, further compounding the manifested phenomena. A low-tier Element Sprite could add a single tier of effectiveness to a Mage's spells. At higher tiers, sapient Sprites manipulated spells in unique and unimaginable ways. Element-shift was likewise a post-industrial Spellcraft staple. A neutral Shielding Abjurer generated an invisible magic barrier. An Earthen Mage, however, manifested a Stone Shield. A Fire Mage created a Fire Shield which burned melee assailants. A Water Mage produced a circulating cascade, a self-replenishing Shield capable of nullifying lesser elemental effects. The mechanical limitations of Spellcraft, therefore, was why Gwen's reputation as a null-Element preceded her. When her turn in the Cognisance Chamber came around, her peers jeered and joked as she made the inevitable walk of shame. It had only been two months into the academic term, and she was already infamous. Her intimacy with Yue and Elvia served only to add fuel to the fire. She was very much the tall poppy. As a semi-giantess at six feet, she was instantly recognisable a block away. Her only saving grace, Gwen noted bitterly, was the absence of a scarlet 'A' on her uniform. But her social suicide wasn't her only problem. Her most vexing irritation was that in two months, she had yet to cast a single spell successfully without feeling utterly sick with mana burn. Her incompetence made no sense, as many of the elementary spells were without an element. Meanwhile, Yue had already managed a flame channel. She showed off by playing around with a dab of flame that danced harmlessly around her hands. Elvia, apparently born ready, effortlessly managed Healing cantrips. Plagued by self-doubt and misery, Gwen made her way through to the Cognisance Chamber, jeered by cold glances and mocking faces. She was the last to visit the Chamber. The arrangement was that students with more 'potential' were allowed to used the chamber first. Tellingly, it took two fortnights of micro-management to affirm her appointment. "Don't worry Gwen," Her friend had comforted her. "Once you're in there, you'll know what's wrong." "I am hopelessly optimistic," Gwen replied with a wane smile. "You can do it!" Yue declared. "Try harder!" “You’re reading way too many propaganda pieces," Gwen observed wrily. If wanting something badly enough made it happen, Humanity wouldn't be half as desperate. "I have confidence in you!" Elvia added, straddling a pillow between her legs and her chest. "My dad says I have excellent magical senses, and you don't feel like a squib to me." Gwen winced. A 'squib' was a NoM born into a Mage bloodline. They were rare, but fate liked to play silly buggers. At the door, a staff member scanned her ID card. "You have an hour. Your student card should record any changes in your abilities," the middle-aged clerk, a NoM, informed her expressionlessly. "Thank you, Ma'am," Gwen replied politely nonetheless. Inside the chamber was a platform for her to stand. The whole set up reminded her of a 60's space module, but bigger. Gwen positioned herself, then waited for the Enchantment to activate. Slowly, the room dimmed, its dimensions transforming into a grey, edgeless space. A reflection expanded below Gwen's body, refracted by Illusory glyphs to appear above, beside, and around her. According to the student guide, each Sigil the Acolyte gained appeared as glowing nebulas. Gwen by now had two months of study under her belt. She was no longer blindly guessing at arcane phenomena. Floating through the darkness, she made sense of the pseudo-space before beginning her navigation. Not far, she spotted an illuminated space. Gwen willed her Astral Body toward what was hopefully her Evocation Sigil. Yue had tried and failed to describe to Gwen the indefinable phenomenon, but the sight now had Gwen's heart pounding. When she came closer to the nebula of starlight, she could see it pulsing with a familiar twinkle, blinking and winking as though signalling her. "Hello?" Gwen thought out loud, her pulse quickening. This better not be the precursor to something worse, she thought. That would be a bloody lark. She was a Generalist, possessing no talent and no affinity. Theoretically, seeing a Sigil with such distinct illumination was impossible. "Fuck it." Abandoning all care, she thrust herself violently into the stardust. "!" Her Astral Body grew incandescent. Inexplicably, she understood Evocation. It was as though she had always known how to use Evocation, as profoundly as one dextrously employed a limb, balanced on a wall, or caught a ball. The knowledge was instinctual and habitual, it was thinking in abstraction. "Magic Missile!" The mana conducted splendidly through her body. There was no puzzle, no mystery. Where she had blindly groped for guidance on the open planes of potential, there were now distinct paths she could take, solutions that were self-evident. Breathless with excitement, she yelped. As her Magic Missile faded into the distance, a fissure of light swept through her Sigil. Her newly visualised Evocation Sigil tapped into its elementally aligned gate. 'Crack!' A flash of lightning danced through the illusory star-field, filling the uncertain space with cobalt-blue and Tyrian-purple. "Oh my God!" Gwen wailed with affirmation, overcome with relief and joy. The folks on the train were right! She was a Quasi-Elementalist! A Lightning Mage! She was a sorceress who tapped into the Quasi-elemental Plane between the Plane of Air and Positive Energy. Why hadn't she awaken earlier? Why was she denied? Was it her ignorance? She had stared at the Sigil dumbfounded, not knowing that she had to reach out. But enough of that. Gwen wanted to laugh, to scream, to cry out in triumph. Within the Chamber, Gwen punched the air. Had she finally managed to supersede her predecessor's curse of mediocrity? As the electricity encircling her body simmered, Gwen knew that the portal to the Quasi-Elemental Plane of Lightning had stabilised. She willed mana into the Sigil, drawing upon a mental image of Yue playing with her Dancing Light, and felt a numbing sensation travelling across her forearm as a sliver of blue light twirled around her finger into a small phantom creature. Her creation hummed and purred at her, making Gwen question if the thing was sentient or merely a manifestation of her animus. 'Spak!' "Woa!" Suddenly, abruptly, her abstract elemental zapped out angrily at something hidden just out of sight. Gwen focused her mind's eye, concentrating on the space beyond the glowing stardust. Something was there, hidden in an obscured section darker than black. She moved past the glimmering, static-charged mass of the Evocation sigil, then reached out for the slivers of something that seemed to fade in and out of her vision. A sudden shudder engendered within her Astral Body. She felt a sharp, biting pain. Flinching, Gwen withdrew her phantom hand. She saw that there were tenebrous incisions all over her illusory skin. At the edge of her vision, slivers of black continued to twist and turn, appearing both closer and further away, taunting her. Gwen thought back to the dream she had before. There was light, and there was dark. If the light was Lightning, then what was the dark? Yin and Yang, light and dark, milk and coffee? She willed her electrical creature to investigate. The sliver of lightning coiled upon itself, then with a mighty leap, launched itself towards the shadows. "Dancing Light!" Gwen attempted a second Evocation spell, achieving resounding success. A white radiance dispelled all shadow. Gwen could see the slivers now, like small dark fish, swimming and fleeing as the ball lightning grew in intensity and rolled towards them. They cowered in the presence of her electricity, nestling and writhing like slippery eels. The aura given off by the creatures was both alien and foreign, uncomfortable to the extreme, inducing inexplicable vertigo. But if this mysterious thing existed in the Cognisance projection, Gwen thought to herself. Then it must also exist within herself. Besides her, the lightning spark returned from its show of force, resting on her shoulder as it sizzled. Gwen reached out as she had done so before, snatching one of the creatures with her hand. There was that sensation again, that strange shuddering that felt as if space itself had distorted- Gwen found herself in the real world. She was no longer in the sensory illusion created by the Cognisance Chamber. Gwen flexed her fingers, disorientated to the extreme. She still had no idea what she had discovered. The door to the chamber opened with a distinct displacement of air. "That's time," The admin asked Gwen for her card. When she noted the changes inscribed by the Chamber’s magically driven recording scripts, her eyes widened. "Congratulations," the woman spoke with a tone of awe, "I shall inform the Principal." When Gwen received her I.D card, she took a moment to be equally astounded. **Gwen Song** **S.I.D** :: 0043598 **Evoker Tier** :: 1 **Elemental Affinity** :: Quasi Elemental - Lightning (3) The rest of the card was blank, its space reserved for other achievements. Holy shit. Gwen's fingers trembled. I made it. Here was the watershed moment, the moment the life of the old Gwen ceased to be, the moment fate caught the cliff's edge and pulled her up by the fingernails. Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I— I took the Magic Carpet through— Thank GOD she didn't have to trudge through the Wildland woods. Lord knew what lurked in the dark; knowing this cursed world, it was probably Shub-Niggurath. In her moment of private reverie, Gwen hadn't noticed some sticky-beaked students sneaking up behind her to read her card, to announce it to the world and viciously mock the object of their ire. "Gwen Song," someone read out aloud before Gwen could stow her card, but it was too late. "Tier 1 Evoker..." Then the reader's voice croaked. "Well?" "Come on?" "What does it say?" "It says nothing after that, duh..." "..." The student respectfully took a step back and gave Gwen a look of no hard feelings. He possessed the greatest respect for his schoolmate. "Tier 3... Quasi Lightning!" he announced, biting every syllable. A few of the students anticipating sweet nothings from the public announcement was already laughing. A split-second later, their mockery changed to grave concern. A dangerous silence reigned. Gwen slipped the card into her skirt-pocket, then fled the scene.

The terrible news of Gwen's 'true' talent spread like the thirteenth-century quasi-magical bubonic plague. She quickly left the main building before a mob could pick up enough momentum to start throwing textbooks. When Gwen finally got to the dorm apartments, Yue and Elvia were already giddy with the good news. "See? Told you so." Yue beamed with optimism; an infectious grin split from ear to ear. "Congratulations, Gwen on discovering your talent!" Elvia ran into Gwen's arms, her small frame twirling about Gwen's neck. Feeling overwhelmed by fortune's favour, Gwen embraced her two besties, feeling grateful for having made such dependable friends. "You'll probably have to see Old Bartlett soon,” Yue advised. "Man, just thinking about your Quasi-Lightning gets my blood boiling - you and me, two powerhouse duos, Elvia at the back healing ... we are going to rock that Field Trip." "Don't count your cockatrices before they hatch. We still need to find a Tank," Elvia lectured them. Unlike Yue, she was not looking forward to facing live combat. "There's no one good in our year. We ask the Seniors." "Abjurers are a dime a dozen." Yue shrugged. "Although we could put you up as a prize and hold a school-wide competition to find the BEST Abjurer! A day with Elvia, a date with the Golden Princess!" "Please don’t," Elvia rebuked Yue sternly; Yue had on an evil expression. “Hoho, I can see it now! The three of us, piling up that mountain of beast carcasses. Maybe we’ll even find a Creature Core or two if we kill enough of them.” “You mean the five of us?” Gwen interjected sceptically. “Pufft… its just going to be us pulling the weight anyway.” Yue snickered arrogantly. "You know, finding a Core on our first adventure would be awesome. We can exchange it. We'll have LDMs for days!" All Mages dreamt of finding a Creature Core. The Core of Magical Beasts formed the basic ingredient for Magical Items. The stronger the beast, the denser the Core, the higher the danger involved. A few Earthen Goblins was merely fodder, but a Coastal Basilisk could wipe out an entire mining outpost. "Alright, clear out, don’t stand in the doorway for Magus’ sake!” The gruff voice of a man announced behind them; it was the caretaker of the Dorm. Iron-Faced Rawson, Yue nicknamed him for his stern and stoic nature, but Gwen rather liked the man. Rawson was the sort of person who was the opposite of her father - focused, laconic, and useful. "Got a call from Admin." He turned to the trio. "Gwen Song, the old man wants to see you." "Thanks, Mr Rawson.” Rawson nodded back. "Congratulations,” the caretaker intoned expressionlessly before returning to the interior of the apartment. "You like that sort of man huh, Gwen?" Yue's brows wiggled. "Mr Rawson?" Elvia looked at Gwen with shock. "He's like a Dad!" "That's the point... hee hee hee," Yue persisted in her dirty hypothesis. “We all know Gwen’s got Daddy issues…” "Good God, you two..." Gwen rolled her eyes. Bloody immature teenage hormonal meat bags. BUT, she was a teen herself, there was no help discounting that. Her body had a mind of its own, even now. Somewhere inside her flesh and blood, the old ghost of the erstwhile Gwen haunted its halls. At anyway rate, Gwen was not attracted to Rawson, no. She was merely admiring the rare bird known as competence. The Principal's Office was on the ground floor of the main building. Blackwattle was a simple school with a simple pedigree, and so a simple oaken door opened up to a spacious interior adorned with awards and accolades. Magus Jules Bartlett had served as the Principal of Blackwattle for two decades. He was a well-known figure both within the school itself and in the neighbourhood. Generations of Acolytes came and went, but all recognised the ever-present personage that was Principal Bartlett at the gates, 0700 sharp, dutifully greeting each student. Amiable and approachable, the Principal was a man fond of conversation. When Gwen entered, she was met with a reassuring smile. My God, his beard is impeccable. Gwen thought. Not a hair out of place. "Miss Song, please take a seat and make yourself comfortable, have a cuppa if you like." The Magus motioned to the table, adorned with a steaming pot of stoutly brewed English Breakfast. "Thank you, Sir." Gwen sat, tilting her long legs to one side and crossing her ankles behind chair's lip. “Your progress comes as a great blessing, Ms Song.” Bartlett began. “Barely two month ago, you Awakened only as a Generalist!” “I wasn't feeling my best sir,” Gwen replied sheepishly. Principal Bartlett laughed. “If only matters of Awakening were accountable by moods!” He exclaimed. “I called you here to congratulate you, Miss Song. And to offer an apology.” The Principal's eyes observed the young woman in front of him before continuing. “Instructor Thomas informed me of your happy accident. That despite NOT Awakening in Evocation, he had placed you out of pity." Gwen felt a little stunned at the news. “I am sure Instructor Thomas was correct though…” Gwen answered, wondering if she could salvage the situation. She was to blame, after all, both her confused incompetence and her enticement of the Instructor to pity her. “When I got home, I tried to do all sorts of experiments. Nothing succeeded, I was truly a Generalist.” “That may be,” Bartlett intercepted on her behalf. “But to think that but for a moment of pity, he would have recommended you for the Non Magical stream…” Yeah, that would have been catastrophic, Gwen concurred. “I understand,” she replied carefully. “I still don’t blame Instructor Thomas though.” “A warning then. You are too kind.” Bartlett waved a hand through the air. “If we had a Diviner, perhaps this could have been averted, but alas.” Gwen nodded demurely, playing the unworldly school girl. “How is your training fairing?” The Principal pivoted toward a more discerning topic. “I’ve only really awakened to the Sigil this morning,” Gwen answered honestly. “I don't think I have had an opportunity to test the extent of my abilities…” “Are you able to manifest?” “Yes, Sir.” Gwen hoped that she wasn't overextending her luck, a performance failure now of all times would be catastrophic. “Would you mind a demonstration?” Bartlett asked. Gwen swallowed discretely. “I’ll try my best sir.” The two of then left their seats and stood in the middle of the spacious office. Gwen turned her mind inwards and invoked the Evocation sigil. Having experienced its invocation in the Cognisance Chamber, she could envision it now perfectly, feeling the mana flow through her Astral Form, shift into Lightning, then flood her conduits. "Lightning Grasp!" she incanted, a spell that was a cousin to Flaming Hands, Yue’s favourite. She felt a jolt of electricity travel across her forearm, then the collated energy of her arcane phenomena manifested. With a muffled crash, a coil of blue-white lightning crackled around her hand, creating the element’s distinct chitter. Ozone filled the air, and static electricity flooded the surrounding space, sending up strands of Gwen’s hair and Principal Bartlett’s beard. “Beautiful,” the old Magus exclaimed. “It’s hard to control sir,” Gwen confessed, her face beginning to sweat. It was her first time, and her spell furiously sought to discharge. The sensation was akin to wrangling a thrashing weasel, any more and it was going to take off her fingers. “!” Magus Bartlett drew an Abjuration Sigil in the air. A Shield shimmered around the Magus silently. Transmuters and Abjurers could shape their Shields, but other Schools of Mages tended to favour semi-circle domes. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. “Strike my Shield,” Bartlett invited Gwen. “Let us see the efficacy of your affinity.” Gwen did not doubt for a second that the Magus thought little of her mere tier 1 spell. She extended her hand and touched the shimmering, near opaque Shield. With a resounding 'Crack!' the electricity dissipated, deforming it for a fraction of a second before the membrane returned to its original shape. “Impressive. Truly wonderful!” Magus Bartlett exclaimed happily. “Lightning is the lovechild of Evocation; its penetrative impact power is far stronger than that of Fire, Earth, or Water!” With the spell fizzling after its expenditure, Gwen regained control of her hand. Her head felt a little woozy for the effort. “Your affinity is exceptional,” Bartlett announced after a moment of thought. “I could feel the free nature of the Lightning element flowing strongly in your spell. Well done, Miss Song!" Gwen noted a strange discolouration in the Principal’s eyes. She recognised the phenomenon as Detect Magic; there was a picture of it in her textbooks. The Divination staple was useful for detecting magical events. At very high tiers, it could act as a portable version of Cognisance. Watching the Principal flit between schools and spells, Gwen realised just how far she had to go. Principal Bartlett meanwhile, was lost in the thought of what he should do with the newly minted sorceress, having now two capable Evokers on his hands. He felt that perhaps, it was best to report to the Tower and make a request for them to send an external instructor. “That was your first time?” He turned to Gwen. If true, then he should be doubly impressed. Gwen felt her face aglow with embarrassment, unsure whether she performed well or poorly. Was her manifestation unclean or crudely managed? A clumsy spell was as dangerous to herself as it was to others. “Yessir," she confessed. “I must then acknowledge your talent, then admonish your rashness,” the Principal intoned with sagacity. “It is good to be ambitious, Gwen, but know your limits.” Gwen bowed her head, staying in character. “I will have your LDM allowance upgraded to the same level as Miss Bai and Miss Lindholm,” The Magus added kindly. “I anticipate great things from you at the next examination.” “I won't disappoint you, Sir,” Gwen replied, her eyes sparkling as she met the Principal's demanding gaze head-on, switching from humility to braggadocio. "Very good. Dismissed." Gwen closed the door behind her. Yue and Elvia met her outside the administration building. “How did it go?” Gwen gave her companion a 'V' for victory. “On par with Yue (you).” She laughed. The girls uttered a unified hip-hip, hurray, drawing curious glances from juniors and seniors alike. Things were finally looking up! Gwen mused happily. To think that only two months ago, she was molested and robbed and was about to live a life of unfulfilled mediocrity! In two days, she would receive a new tithe of LDMs, and then her training could begin in earnest! The girls' practice settled into a routine. Gathered on the lower oval's practice range, she and Yue lit up the field with their Evocation incantations. Grudgingly, the school's cohort came to accept Gwen's new found powers. Albeit many refuted their budding admiration, the crowds that gathered whenever Yue and Gwen practised suggested otherwise. Once she was OoM, Gwen meditated, cradling an LDM shard. Within a quarter of an hour, she was topped up and ready for another round. With a growing stockpile of crystals at their disposal, their training was going swimmingly. Each day, when others had gone back to their dorms to study theory, Gwen, Yue, along with a talented few, could remain until sundown. The repetition meant that they built up a tolerance to mana drain, increasing both mana pool and mental stamina. Gwen's meals were also significantly improved, consisting mainly of Quasi-magical Beasts harvested and delivered to the school's cafeteria. As classes came and went, Gwen's night and days were beginning to blend. Her practice often became so exhaustive that she lost track of time. She called this 'the zone', feeling a curious Zen as the condensed mana stowed within her LDMs permeated her body. Blasts of flame roared across the field, creating pockmarks of craters across the asphalt practice zone. Beside the torrents of arcane fire, flashes of cobalt lightning tore at the ground, materialising from the aether. The gathered crowd was here to observe the ‘Dynamic Duo,’ as Yue had come to call herself and Gwen. Yue possessed affinity 4 for Fire and Gwen 3 for Lightning. Compared to their tier 1 peers, they could fire off four spells to the other's three. The passing grade for participation in the field trial was the demonstration of the ability to produce ten consecutive phenomena and a Shield, graded for damage, speed, variation, and defence. The micro-management of mana was drilled daily into the students by stern instructors. With each bout of exhaustion, the students alternated between rest and casting, optimising spell cycling. The crowd cheered. Yue was radiant as always, perspiring with youthful exuberance. As a Fire Mage, her body would slowly attune to the element, becoming resistant to heat and cold. By the same measure, her constitution would become increasingly hostile to water-based Enchantments and body-buffs. "Fire Missiles!" The crowd roared as darts of fire leapt from Yue's finger to envelop a conjured practice dummy, turning the effigy into smouldering chunks. Such grace! Such smooth and fluid somatic casting! The crowd applauded. Satisfied, Yue turned to observe Gwen, only to see her friend gesticulate wildly at the field like a madwoman flinging invisible cats. "Hahaha!" Yue couldn't help but burst into laughter. Hilarity aside, Gwen's bolts were making quick work of the dummies as well. For the audience, the difference between Fire and Lightning was instructive in themselves. Yue's AoE was far more impressive but had travel time, and was subject to line-of-sight. Gwen’s Lightning spells appeared from thin air, materialising from above the target, striking almost instantaneously. This difference in manifestation was why Lightning was so dominant in both duels and Monster hunting. However, as a trade-off, Gwen's spells were localised and exceedingly difficult to aim. “Spatial casting is much harder than it looks,” Gwen complained cattily to Yue, wiping herself down with a towel. “How do you find your projectile magic?” “Line barrages are fine,” Yue admitted. “But the whole parabola thing is pretty abstract; I still need to get through the physics of it in class.” After practice, the two became immediately surrounded by juniors, more so favouring Yue than Gwen, who had a reputation as the illegitimate daughter of an underworld mob boss. “Can I get you a bottle of water?” someone asked eagerly. “Two.” Yue was shameless. “Alright!” A boy ran off happily. “…” Gwen blinked at Yue with judgemental eyes. “Hey,” Yue sniggered. “I only exploit those who are willing.” Gwen shook her head. “When's Elvia finishing?” Elvia wasn't with the girls. The healer undertook specialised training in mundane Medical Triage as well as magical healing. The School couldn't find an Instructor willing to teach just one student, so Elvia's family provided their own. As it were, she was now presided over by her uncle, a senior Cleric. When the two returned to the dorms, each holding a gift of chilled mineral water, they were greeted by a jubilant Elvia. "Hey." Yue glanced at the clock. "Elvia, you had dinner yet?" The blonde girl shook her head. "That's what I like to hear." Yue grinned expansively. "We're heading to my place. My mum's made dumplings!" Elvia blinked. "You know." Yue made a shape with her hand. "Wontons? Jiaozi?" Elvia shook her little blonde head. Yue took the tiny girl by the shoulder, feeling her nervous bones creak. "Alright, mate." she grinned. "You're in for a treat!" Yue had her house in the suburban sector of Forrestville, roughly thirty minutes away from Blackwattle via public transport. Where Gwen's apartment was nestled in a forest of concrete habitat blocks, Yue's two-bedroom abode was caught between two six-storey flats, reminding Gwen of the house from UP. "Here we are!" Yue opened the groaning gate. Her father had done his best, but there was so much one could do for corrugated iron. Elvia stood on the dying grass of Yue's front lawn and took in the distended scent of heavy industry that permeated the suburb. Only two streets away, the housing gave way to an industrial zone filled with warehouses. Before the flats went up, Yue's house had enjoyed the sun. Now, it rested permanently in shadow. Even here, developers were a plague, Gwen observed. It must be a universal constant. "Bai Yue, welcome home!" "Good evening, Mrs Bai." Gwen bowed. Flustered, Elvia quickly bowed as well, sending a cascade of flaxen strands flowing over her shoulders. "Oh..." Yue's mother made an 'O' with her lips. "Who is this?" "I am Elvia Lindholm." Elvia curtseyed. Yue's mother audibly gulped. "She's the healer friend," Yue interjected helpfully. "The one I've been telling you all about." Elvia looked up with her big blue eyes. "HOW WONDERFUL!" Yue's mother gushed, drunk on Elvia's adorable presence. "COME IN! COME IN!" The girls entered. Gwen had always envied Yue's home, this world or the last. Though cramped and narrow, it was lived-in and homely. The corridor leading to the living room was filled with Lumen-pics, decorating the walls eclectically. The living room itself was plushly carpeted, possessing an old fireplace in front of which Mr Bai had read picture books to a young Gwen and Yue. Besides the modest living space was a cramped kitchen-dining combo: a domain entirely strange to Gwen, whose father rarely if ever cooked, and whose personal culinary expertise consisted only of instant ramen and Spam. Had Forrestville not been such a Mecca for street food, Gwen and Percy would have grown into the teenagehood knowing just toast and Vegemite, a cheap but potent form of quasi-magical compost. Mrs Bai settled the girls around the dining table; a beaten old thing accompanied only three seats. "Food's almost ready. You girls must be hungry!" Gwen and Elvia watched marvelled as Yue's NoM mother suddenly appeared as if she possessed multiple sets of limbs, chopping, frying, stirring, mixing and plating all at once while multiple pots bubbled on the stove. She returned a few minutes later with a steaming heap of pork and cabbage Jaozi. "I made it with Wildland pork," Yue's mother stated proudly. "It's a rare treat! Eat up!" Yue mixed the dipping sauces for her two friends while Elvia struggled with her chopsticks. "Like this-" Gwen demonstrated with one hand. "The index finger and the middle finger should be pressing against the moving stick, while the stationary stick rests against the phalanx." Elvia was quick on the uptake. "Mum, are you eating?" Yue asked her mother. "Go ahead," Yue's mother smiled sweetly. "I'll wait for your father. He likes em fresh." Eager and curious, Elvia gingerly picked up a dumpling, dipped it into the sauce Yue had prepared, then placed it into her mouth. "!!!" Her ocean-blue orbs grew large. Pain, pleasure, scalding meat-soup, spicy and savouriness struck her tongue at once. "Evee!" Gwen gasped. "It's HOT! There's soup inside! Oh my God, Yue, you didn't tell her?" Yue popped a boiling dumpling into her mouth. "Its fine to me." "You're a tier 4 Fire Mage!" Gwen chided her friend. "We don't have heat resistance!" "Oh?" Yue touched her lips. Looking at Elvia, she realised her friend was in genuine pain. "Shit, sorry Evee. I'll get you some water." Having caught the commotion, Yue's mother returned with a glass of cold water. Elvia waved the cup away. "Hwealing Tooch!" she announced, wincing as she incanted the Clerical cantrip. "Oh Lord... my goodness." "Are you alright?" Gwen asked worriedly. Yue's mother trembled by the bench, not knowing if she should apologise or disappear. "Delicious!" Elvia beamed, surprising all of them. "Thank you, Ma'am." "Oh... I am no Ma'am... haha..." Yue's mother squirmed. Yue's cloudly mien lightened. She had thought Elvia would have left, or at least berated her. Gwen caught the sparkle in Elvia's eyes and marvelled at the girl's emotional intelligence. It wasn't often that someone could overcome their agony, especially when it was dealt by the ignorance of another. Gwen felt happy to be right, Elvia was beyond precious! She was an angel inside and out. "It IS delicious, isn't it?!" Gwen joined in. "Break it apart first and let the steam and the soup out." "It's SO GOOD," Elvia beamed at Yue's mother. The poor woman had been sweating buckets when the healer held her mouth. As a NoM, she had an innate fear of Mages that was difficult to dispel even after a decade in Sydney. "I've got other flavours too!" Mrs Bai uttered jubilantly. "Just you wait, I've got prawn dumplings made with Wildland chives!" "My favourite!" Gwen hailed the prospect of chive-dumplings, though not its room-clearing farts. Yue raised a glass of water. Gwen met her half-way. Elvia fumbled for a cup. "To dumplings!" "To Mrs Bai!" "To us!" "Cheers!" The asymmetrical collection of glasses clinked; joining the sound of clattering chopsticks, hissing steam, and the trilling laughter of women.

Spring ended with November; then summer came on with its stifling heat. Fair-skinned and petite, Elvia wilted like a rare white flower. Gwen likewise melted in a most un-ladylike manner, legs akimbo, a spaghetti-string singlet loosely hung over one shoulder, its sheer cotton stuck to her stomach like wet rice paper. She must have died, and this is hell, Gwen moped. What kind of magical world lacked air conditioning? She hadn't experienced an Aussie summer without air-conditioning since she left home at sixteen. Even the youth hostel had air-con. Beside the sweltering Gwen, Yue was as cool as a cucumber; her affinity for Fire meant she naturally regulated heat in her body. Gwen's bodacious companion wore a comfortable singlet that barely hung on for dear life. “How come.” Yue looked at her friend. “How come we both bought small, and your one fits?” “Humblebrag?” Gwen moaned, too tired to return a volley. “Funbags,” Elvia added an acute observation. “What have you being teaching her?” Gwen wailed. “My innocent Evee is despoiled!” “They grow up so fast.” Yue sobbed. “Just the other day she was making eyes at a boy.” “I was not!” Elvia protested. “No no!” Gwen wailed, "Evee is mine! For now and forever!" The girls fell about in laughter, making the room hotter. 'Knock! Knock!' “Ahem!” A cough came from the doorway; the door opened just a peep. "I er... knocked, but you all appeared to be pre-occupied," mumbled a voice from the hallway. Gwen grabbed the closest linen, though her modesty proved was a futile effort; she was too tall for the meagre fabric. Besides her, Elvia dived for her bed, throwing a silken shaw over her cut-off shorts. "Oh yeah..." Yue seemed to recall something. "I invited a cooling glyph." The door opened. A young man about the girls' age entered nervously. "I am not er... interrupting anything am I?" asked the young man apprehensively. "Thank the Magus you are here." Yue bounced up to greet the young man. Their guest averted his eyes. On his right, Gwen was looking defensive and hostile, to his left, Elvia hissed like a cat. Trapped, their intruder found great interest in the old art-deco lighting fixtures. "Ladies..." Yue placed her hands together. "This is Jun, a wonderful young man whom I have recruited to our cause." She nodded at Jun, who was still reeling at the girl's attire. "Jun, do the thing." The girls turned to look at Jun, who was now the colour of beetroot. "Excuse me," Jun muttered, making the circular Sigil of the school of Abjuration. A sound of crinkling filled the air, then the temperature plummeted. A thin sheet of ice seemed to form in the air around Jun, before finally coalescing into a semi-dome ball of frost that radiated cold. Yue flourish with a bow, twirling her off-hand floridly. "Ta da~ " The heat in the room dissipated and a cool breeze began to circulate. Gwen felt as though she was in one of those improbable air conditioning commercials where hot and bothered women became emancipated by Mitsubishi split-air systems. Yue patted the cushion of the two-seat couch in a come-hither manner. "Sit." Hawkishly, the trio watched as Jun sat on the edge of the couch, scratching his nose nervously. "This is Jun Murrow." Yue paused for dramatic effect. "Abjurer, affinity 2, Ice." Elvia's blue eyes peeked out from behind her pillow. Gwen straightened her singlet before shaking Jun's hand. "Jun." "Gwen." "Elvia," Elvia called out from afar. "Hi." Silence reigned. “So, as you know,” Yue broke the ice. “We have our Field Trip soon. I figured we should pick the good fruit before they’re gone, that sort of thing.” She motioned to Jun. “I asked around for the best Abjurer in our curriculum, and now we have him. Applause, ladies!” The girls golf-clapped. “Ahem, thank you. It's good to be here.” Jun’s eyes scanned the room, falling toward his enviable audience. “As Yue stated… I am a Quasi-Elemental Mage like you Gwen,” Jun began. “We Ice Mages tap into the space between the Air and Water elements.” Gwen nodded. “Few elements are as stable as Ice,” Jun continued with a hint of pride. “Especially with Abjuration, we can create Shields and walls that are both transparent and hardy.” “Whereas Lightning…” Jun's stated with admiration. “Lighting is the most volatile, but a real showstopper. Perfect for Evocation.” “Does us sharing the Air element do anything?” Gwen enquired. "Synergy, for example." “Unfortunately no,” Jun replied with a wave of his hand. “At least, not that I know of. Lightning doesn't interact well with anything. A water Mage and I could synergise something impregnable, but I doubt Fire, Air, or Water could do anything for you. In fact, I am fairly sure Earthen Mages counter Lightning.” I bet water could conduct Lightning, Gwen mused. Some of the potential energy may be lost, but it should be feasible. Watching Jun and Gwen converse, Yue nudged Elvia. Gwen turned to see Yue wiggling her brows at her. Rolling her eyes, she threw a towel at her overimaginative friend. “Sorry, they're just kids," Gwen apologised. "Look, Jun, I think its pretty obvious that we're all inexperienced. It's going to be our first time. Can you lend us a hand?" Stolen novel; please report. "..." Yue's expressive brows once again came to life. Elvia's face glowed a hot-pink. Admirably, Gwen's inopportune expressions flew over Jun's head. "What do you want to know?" "What's our role in an Adventuring Party?" Gwen inquired. "I mean, how does it work? We've never Adventured before." "Okay." Jun took a moment to begin. "Essentially, a perfect Party has FIVE members, each with unique roles. The Scout is typically an Air Mage with Transmutation or Divination. The Tank is an Abjurer, typically Earth attuned. The Damage Dealers are usually Conjurers, Evokers, or Transmuters. And Utility is taken up by Diviners, an Enchanters, or an Illusionists. In the best case scenario, the Utility is a Healer who can Buff, Heal and Dispel." “How would the setup work with us four?” “Good question." Jun scratched his nose again. "I believe we have excellent synergy.” “Fire Evokers have widespread damage over a huge area. Lightning Evokers have instant pin-point damage. Both are extremely accomplished between tier 1 and 3, with the firepower of say, multiple Air or Earthen Acolytes.” “I am pretty confident myself as a Tank, and with my affinity, I could stand in for two basic level Abjurers at the very least. As an Abjurer, I can instantly create hard Shields mid-air, good for blocking both physical and elemental attacks. If we have access to a water source, I can even manage Shield walls." "For our team, I'd say the game-changer is Elvia. With a healer, we can ramp up our hunting speed immensely, even if we are a little reckless. Having a Cleric makes the 'survival' aspect of the Field Trip rather trivial." Ah~, Gwen nodded affirmatively. Elvia, of course. Theirs would be the only team with a Healer in the entire school. How could they lose a survival competition if they could negate the inconvenience of inevitable injury? "That's all fine and dandy, but Yue did advise you that we're just a few months into our training, right?” Gwen confessed dubiously. "I doubt we can chain more than a dozen spells at the moment. Not to mention that Elvia isn't yet certified - are you Evee?" "I need to pass the medical tier 1 examination first.” Elvia shook her head. “There's still two months until the Field Trip,” Jun proclaimed confidently. “Not a problem with your affinity and resources.” "What can you tell us about the Field Trip itself, Jun?" Gwen continued. "Well, it takes place near the Royal National Park, deep down the coastal area. The area south of it was never really reclaimed, just kind of 'cleansed' a few times- it's now infested with low-level creepers." "Horned-Rabbits and angry Wombats?" Gwen thought about her Magical Creatures classes with its absurdly thick Monster manual. "A little more advanced than that I hope!" Jun jovially quipped, "We're talking more the garden variety of sentient magical beings, like Goblins." "Goblins..." Gwen still couldn't believe there were Goblins in this world. The critters were not the green-skins of yore though, but humanoid creatures gifted animation by the magical residue of the Wildlands. The Bestiary stated that when enough elemental essence coalescence in an area, it attracted spirits sensitive to that element and gave them material form. Within the bestiary, Goblins referred explicitly to the malignant little creatures that formed where Earth and Fire elements were particularly strong. Lesser Goblins, or Snotlings, were little more than mindless animals that scavenged for food, while an adult Goblin could take down a grown man with its claws and teeth, ultimately becoming a Hob, a human-sized, flesh-eating creature of immense cunning. "Have you ever seen a Goblin before?" Gwen asked. “Seen 'em and killed dozens." Jun's eyes clouded over with remembrance, "It was when we got to one of the outposts down near Wollongong. The little buggers had overrun a mining camp, and were busy trying to get to the workers in their Construction-Golems." "What happened?" "Well, the workers were there to dig up crystals. Unfortunately, they struck a warren. When the golems came through, they broke into the tribe's main chamber, and the Gobs came flooding out like hornets." "When my Party finally got there, the critters had already murdered a few of the workers. The rest locked themselves up in their construction golems, waiting for rescue. If you want to know what they look like, the ones we saw were different. They had these little horns they used for head-butting and carried these nasty obsidian clubs, They could even walk on walls, like spiders." "That's disgusting..." Elvia gasped. The trio sat around the Abjurer, hugging their knees to their chests, hanging onto every word. "So..." Gwen wanted to hear the important parts. "How did you... kill them?" "We had a fire Evoker with us, but the Gobs were resistant to fire, so our Air Mage and I had to double duty. He used Gust spells to slam them onto the walls, and I froze them in place with Creeping Frost and my Shields. The Water Transmuter ended up performing most of the defence because the Goblins had a tough time getting their small bodies through the Water Barrier." Gwen leaned in closer, a dozen questions dancing on the tip of her tongue. “… so finally, we popped the warren, and there were hundreds of the little buggers running around trying to get through the Shield. The fire Mage ended up throwing half a dozen Fire Balls at the cavern until it collapsed on the whole chamber, sealing the shaft.” Gwen considered the information she had just received and knew that there was something she had to ask, something she had never done. "How does it feel to kill something." She inquired carefully. Jun visibly struggled to describe the strange, sickening feeling of taking life. Should he explain the sounds the Goblins made as the ice crawled up their spine? The crunch as their scaly-skin broke? The screaming and the yelping as they burned? The yellow ichor that oozed from their orifices? "It will be hard at first," Jun replied finally. "The 'being' you're attacking had been alive, and now it's dead. I could describe the ichor and the smell, but it's something you have to experience yourself." "The animals are not so bad..." Jun paused. “But Demi-humanoid Magical Creatures will test you. Some of them get pretty lifelike. The biggest thing I saw was a Hob, watching it get cut down by a barrage of Magic Missiles was no different to seeing a man die.” Jun's voice trailed off. Only the sound of soft breathing and perspiration transpired through the dorm room. 'Snap!' With a pop, Jun's ball of frost collapsed. The room once again felt stifling. “I hope we can work well together,” Jun announced seriously. “Yeah,” Gwen agreed. “Thanks for the heads up.” “Thank you,” added Elvia, her complexion paler for the wisdom. “Well, there's still the summer break, then a couple of weeks until your exams." Jun pushed up his spectacles and grinned at the girls. "I haven't agreed to anything other than I'll wait. You need to show me that my trust is well-founded." "Alright," Yue announced excitedly. "I am pumped! We're gonna rock that test!" Yue leaned in aggressively. "Jun, you're not going to join another team, right?” Yue watched as Jun's eyes pivoted to and fro. The crude manner of Yue's strategic presentation made Gwen vomit a little in her mouth. "Promise?" "Of.. of course." Jun stammered. Gwen wondered if his glasses would fog up, but then again, an ice Mage naturally had a lowered body temperature. Jun escaped before Yue could push him to make another promise. Yue had an extroverted, forceful personality; Jun was passive and humble. Fire and ice, Gwen mused, was there a correlation there? Gwen consulted a mental Astral-chart to recall what her oppositional element was and find it to be Dust. The Quasi-elemental Plane of Dust, consisting of nothing but death and the erosion of time and space. What kind of Mage would that be? Who could even awaken to such a thing? Gwen shuddered, imagining a grey old man with a constant air of apathy, dandruff falling like fallout about his head. When the door finally closed, Yue turned to her companions. "That was embarrassing," Yue confessed. So you do feel embarrassment. Gwen patted her friend on the head. "Well done!" "Would you expect anything less?" Yue raised a mischievous brow, assuming a hands-on-hip power pose, expecting praise for her negotiators. "Arrr I am so jealous!" Elvia blurted. "What are you eating! " "Well, there is a secret..." Yue sauntered closer to the unsuspecting Elvia before hugging her tightly. "Hot! Hot! Hot! It's TOO HOT Yue!" Elvia moaned. "How can your body temp be so high? I am dying!" "Feels alright to me." Yue giggled mischievously. Gwen felt the ambient temperature soar. The air-conditioned hour they shared with Jun felt so far away. "You sure that your family can't just install air or water-based conditioning Glyphs here?" "Nup." Elvia moped sadly, feeling sweat pouring from her ivory skin after Yue's heated assault. "Rawson said that the building is Warded. We're not allowed to install foreign Enchantments." "Gar~ Get away from me woman!" Gwen yelped as Yue snuck towards her, hoping to spread some more misery. In the end, it was too hot even to move. Gwen sat on the wooden desk, sweating into the grain. Elvia laid on her bed like a corpse. "I touched a dead body the other day." Elvia declared suddenly. Both Yue and Gwen froze. "At the clinic!" Elvia corrected herself just in case the girls thought she was responsible for the cadaver. "A worker was attacked. He succumbed to his injuries. My uncle got me to sit in on the autopsy." The other two girls listened quietly, the subject efficiently chilling the room. "I watched Uncle go through the... organs, and he took them out and showed them to me one by one. There was so much it, the heart, the lungs, the liver..." "The man had been alive only hours before, but now he was dead and being taken apart for studies. I wanted to vomit, but Uncle said that I had to see this sooner or later because no matter how good a Mage can be, there will come a day..." The song of cicadas filled the humid air. "I want to be the one to heal you if that ever happens." Elvia intoned solemnly, "I'll never let either of you die!" Gwen's throat became swollen as her eyes welled with moisture; her heart throbbed with maternal love and boundless affection. "... and we'll protect you too, always," Yue solemnly declared. "Aye," Gwen concurred, her hazel eyes full of conviction. There was nothing else to be said. The girls smiled as one, happy in their naive promise.

_Putt! Putt! Putt!_ The training dummy split in twain with a resounding 'crack!' as several stone-tipped Magic Missiles cracked its wooden surface, sending up a cloud of fragments. The area around the dummy next shimmered; a mana Shield made opaque by dust, rock, and assorted sediments materialised. Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! The mana shield remained immovable as the missile shattered against it, but a section of it became chipped where a projectile had struck, penetrating some of its exterior and sending spiralling shards to bounce off its interior. "B" "C" "B" The instructors announced. "Would you like another attempt?" "No sir, I believe this is my current limit," the earthen Abjurer announced sadly. He had already surpassed the expectant ten consecutive incantations but could do nothing more about the lacklustre power. That was a problem of both School and affinity. "Very well, you may go." The exam took place, much to Gwen's dismay, in public and before the assembly of Spellcraft students deemed eligible for the Field Trip. There was at least a hundred of the gathered cohort. Gwen sighed. It wasn't so much that she resented presentations or speeches - she loved those - she disliked being judged for the sake of being judged. Half the day had passed, and half the students remained, waiting the drawing of their lots. So far, neither Gwen or Yue had been chosen. Yue suspected with a confident smirk that the other students were just the opening act and that the inspectors were saving the best for last. Though Gwen was sceptical, she could see that Yue's hypothesis had some merit. None of the other students with highly attuned affinity had presented themselves yet. They watched as an Air Mage cut down half a dozen dummies, marvelling at the speed of her smooth, acrobatic movements through the obstacle course. Each element had their distinct advantages; the Air Mage's defence proved woeful, her mana Shield barely holding against two of the instructor's missiles. Then a familiar face appeared: Debora, Gwen's old childhood friend who had bickered with them on the day of the Awakening, took to the stage. Since their spiteful rendezvous, Gwen had kept herself from Debora's presence. Debora had grown taller somehow, more alluring; her signature long legs appeared more muscular and sculpted than before. Gwen knew that Earthen Mages all possessed exceptional stamina, constitution and strength- that those with high affinity eventually possessed rock solid, chiselled bodies akin to marble statues. The once-heavy mass of Debora's auburn hair had been bundled up into a knotted ponytail, giving her the air of a track athlete. Cries of audacious exhalation went up from the crowd as Debora entered. Though Debora had always been a queen-bee type as a junior, she worked hard as well. During their training, Gwen and Yue had heard nothing but praise for the 'genius' of Class 3 from the Instructors. "Catapult!" Debora began with a classic, offensive Transmutation spell, launching a fifty-odd kilogram projectile in the shape of a spiked ball towards the target. 'Catapult' was the Transmuter's version of Magic Missile. There was no auto-guidance, but the spell packed a far stronger wallop. Debora's wrecking ball arched gracefully through the air, meeting the wooden dummy in violent matrimony. The mannequin shattered spectacularly, sending up a spray of splinters. The stone rolled on for another dozen metres, taking out several back-up dummies. "Catapult!... Catapult!... Catapult!..." She incanted in quick succession, and a barrage of boulders devastated the field. The crowd cheered and clapped, Debora wasn't even breaking a sweat. "I think she's at least tier 3 affinity now." An instructor observed. "Wonderfully smooth mana conversion, almost no lag or wasted potential." "I concur." Gwen heard another Instructor speak before feeling an acidic twang. Debora then walked into the field. As she sauntered, her skin turned a deep bronze, becoming coarse and rigid. Bronze Skin? Bark Skin? That was a tier 2 Transmutation spell! Gwen blinked. Were they doing Tier 2 spells already? "Are you certain about this?" An instructor asked. "Yessir, you have my consent," Debora replied, smiling bravely. “Though not my hair, Sir. I will have it styled more appropriately for the Field Trip." The instructors nodded as one, then began. A barrage of three missiles flew towards Debora and struck her on the chest, the arm and the leg. She barely flinched as a few motes of stones fell. Her Earthen armour remained impenetrable. "Very good!" one of the Instructors announced. More barrages followed; it was only on the tenth strike that finally a chunk of the armour chipped off, and Debora fell to one knee. She walked back towards the demonstration platform, dramatically turning to unleash one more spell. "Stone Blast!" A simmering glow appeared beneath a dummy before the pavement suddenly sprouted half a dozen spikes, piercing blonde wood and sending the torso flying a good ten meters. Another Tier 2 Transmutation spell! Gwen's delicate brows knitted apprehensively. Debora was kicking ass. "Debora sure is special!" Someone behind Gwen remarked appreciatively. "A" "A" "S" The grading was unanimous. "Geez, first High Distinction and we're sixty people down already!" Gwen saw Debora turn to look through the crowd. She felt Yue tensing beside her. From across the assembly, their eyes locked. You think you have talent? What I have is what hard work gets you, Debora's eyes seemed to taunt them. I am every bit as good as you think you are. "I am going to enjoy this." Yue spat beside Gwen. "Looks like Debby need a good spanking." Gwen felt caught between two colliding forces. She felt respect for Debora. After all, had Debora being a company colleague, Gwen herself would have felt nothing but praise for someone so driven and dedicated to their craft. But Yue was never one to leave a slight unmolested. A few more students came and went. “You’re going to show them ‘that’ already?” Gwen whispered, watching Yue rubbing her hands together. "Her holier than thou purist attitude pisses me off," Yue snarled, baring her teeth. “Watch me rock her world. I wonder what she'll think after she gets her ass ripped by an Asian half-NoM." "Yue Bai. No. 14002. Yue Bai." "I am up!" Yue's presence drew envious glances and wanton stares. "See you on the other side!" "Miss Bai." The Instructor nodded when Yue made her way up the platform to the sound of applause. Gwen could swear that the crowd was chanting 'Yue! Yue! Yue!' "I am ready." Yue turned to the field and watched the Dummies conjured into place. "I shall begin." "Firebolt!" A dazzling arc of fire flew through the air like a falling star and struck the dummy. The force of it splintered the wood cinematically, before engulfing the target in an explosion that left nothing but a smoking stump. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. The crowd collectively took in a breath. That was a Tier 1 spell?! How did she make Magic Missile explode? Were there two stages to the Evocation spell? "Astounding display Miss Bai," the Instructor's praise was full of approval. "To think you could place an unstable mote within the frame of the missile particle.” "Yessir, but the missile is no longer self-guiding," Yue answered honestly. That was beyond the girls' knowledge of rudimentary Spellcraft. "A distance to go before you perfect it then, do you intend to craft a Signature spell?" A Signature Spell was a spell that solely belonged to a single Mage, not taught in the general curriculum. It was the hallmark of a skilled mage to create unique incantations, and almost all the noted Magus had their unique incantations. "Yessir." "I would advise patience then." The instructor advised warmly, "There are far more resources when you arrive at university and have access to senior instructors who are more attuned to elemental Fire." "Thank you, Sir." “You may continue.” Yue gathered her wits once again, and the air around her became scorchingly hot. “Barrage!” With a burst of fiery mana, Yue conjured a dozen fire bolts and fired them off at different angles in a vertical line. A line of explosions shook the field, sending dummies flying every way, cutting a deep channel in the splintered bedrock. The pyrotechnic fireworks shook the ground and forced students to conjure Mana Shields to intercept the flying debris. “By the Magus!” “Holy hell!” someone screamed over the cacophony. “Are we really in a high school division?” “Nothing's surviving that…” The air cleared. All the dummies were gone. “Incredible,” an instructor marvelled. “Indeed, marvellous,” another concurred. Despite their high praise, the Instructors still offered essential criticisms. Her incomplete-signature spell took too much mana; it lacked focus each explosion was inconsistent, and so on. “Are you able to continue?” The third inquired. “Yes,” Yue's chest rose and fell. “One last spell.” Yue invoked her Mana Shield. “Blast Shield!” Fire Mages had offensive shields that worked wonders on melee opponents but had severe limitations against ranged attacks. As Yue manifested, a shimmering, glowing Shield surrounded her in a half-dome. “Another Signature Spell!” Three missiles shrieked towards Yue. As the projectiles struck the Fire Mage's Shield, a volatile reaction spat forth gouts of orange flame. The first missile exploded. The second skimmed the Shield. The third, however, penetrated her shield and struck Yue on the shoulder. The force of the impact drove her toward the ground. “Yue!” Gwen cried out. “I am fine.” Yue waved back, nursing her collarbone. “Looks like that modified spell still needs work,” one of the Instructors commented. “Yessir,” Yue admitted. “It's far from ready.” “Good concept though, if you can somehow accelerate your reaction…” “Indeed…” “I believe there's a Magus at the Sydney Tower who has designed a similar spell. Perhaps, if you are interested, I can ask the faculty to put you in contact with the Magus.” “Thank you, Sir.” “I'll be honest with you.” Another instructor's criticism was sterner. “You are wasting too much time on creating these spells, Yue. The basics are the foundation of Spellcrafting, and you need to have a solid foundation before venturing into new things. These spells are as dangerous for your enemies as your allies if you cannot control them well. My recommendation is to forgo these fancies, at least for now.” Yue nodded solemnly. “After the Field Test,” The instructor added. “You will have team and survival training; please focus on that to the best of your abilities. No distractions.” “Yessir, I'll try my best,” Yue answered seriously, “S” “S” “B” S stood for supersede. An achievement beyond what could be measured by the Senior performance metric. The first mark was for effective damage. The second was for speed and or stamina. The third was for defence and utility. The Fire element was a naturally offensive element, though Yue’s attempt at innovation by using offence to offset defence was commendable. Yue returned to Gwen surrounded by the cheers of their peers. Not, however, before she found Debora in the crowd and gave her the bird. “You had me worried when that missile went through.” Gwen took her friend by the shoulder and gave her arm a soft prod. "Eee Yarh!” Yue hissed. “Yep, it's gonna swell for sure.” "If only Elvia were here..." Gwen lamented. "She's got a whole other thing going. Much more difficult than us grunts, ha!" A dozen more students had their turns, some failing, some succeeding, but none matched the rating given to Debora and Yue. Gwen awaited her turn with bated breath. Eventually, it came. "Gwen Song. No. 14026." The gathered assembly had no cheers nor applause for Gwen. Gwen reached the platform and met the benevolent gaze of three Instructors. "We have heard good things from Principle Bartlett," one of them spoke benevolently. "It is rare to see a Quasi-elementalist in action, and an offensive caster at that." An array of target dummies moved into position. Deep breath! Focus. Do it like you always do, Gwen assured herself. She turned to face her wooden opponents and tapped into the Sigil, sensing it burst into brilliance within her mind. She pointed rather flamboyantly towards one of the wooden figures and spoke the incantation that she had practised a thousand times before. “Blast Bolt!" The smell of hot ozone filled the air, mixing with the unstable Positive Energy. A shunt of electricity split the air. 'Crack!' A flash, followed by a thunderous 'crack' filled the field with light and sound. Lightning! The crowd gasped. The power of the Gods themselves! The purest form of absolute destruction. A cloud of dust rose into the air, obscuring all sight. WHO COULD SURVIVE THE FIST OF HEAVEN ITSELF? The crowd cooed. SUCH POWER. The moment of awe passed. The dust settled. The assembly stared dumbfounded at an intact dummy. The faceless Dummy stared at Gwen, dumbfounded. She missed. Gwen Song missed the target. Oh. My. God. Gwen's mind turned as brilliantly white as her bolt of plasma. I MISSED THE FUCKING TARGET! She screamed internally. "Did she miss?" Someone asked. People began to laugh out loud. "She missed the dummy!" "Oh my God, this is too good!" "What the hell!" "Ha! What an idiot!" "I knew she was just a vase!" The laughter spread like the tide, some of the students were so overcome that they doubled over trying to breathe. "SILENCE!" An enhanced auditory spell blasted across the assembly. "Continue," said one of the instructors. "Don't be so nervous. That was a wonderful manifest." Gwen nodded, trying to block out the stifled mockery filling the space between her ears. Show them what you can do. Gwen thought to herself. Show the world what you can do. Her Evocation Sigil flared, sending a torrent of lightning-charged mana into her conduits. Gwen raised her hand, a finger extended towards the heavens, then swiftly pointed downwards. "Blast Bolt!" The roar of her incantation rang out through the field. Those close to her instantaneously felt their hair rose to a stand-still. A vacuum formed above the dummies. A blue-purple shriek of lightning cut through the air and struck the closest scarecrow. The wood grew bright before exploding into ten-thousand pieces, sundered into motes of ash and dust. The obliteration was so complete that not even the stump remained, leaving only a half metre crate. Before the first arc faded, another arc cut through the air, obliterating another dummy. Then another, and another. Shards of lightning filled the air, indiscriminately ravaging the world within the radius of the spell, increasing in frequency. Gwen felt her mana pool drain like snowmelt at springtime, pouring into the white-hot Sigil. More! The exhilaration thrilled her to the core. I can do more! A final bolt of lightning struck the ground, a beam of solid light, blinding all within sight. A shockwave expanded from the epicentre, send out a concentric ring of dust. As the particles settled, there remained only decimated stumps amidst a criss-cross of molten sand-turned-glass. Gwen felt her knees give out as mana drain came on. Pulling herself up by the hair, she stood through force of will. "Magnificent." "Can we even do that as a Senior Mage?” One of the instructors quipped. "Sure, but I am fifty, and she's fifteen..." The instructors observed the devastation. That was the same chained signature spell that Yue was using but elementally charged with lightning; a multi-cast of Fire Bolt given a new form. Though it was not well known, it was an observed phenomenon that an area charged with positive energy gave rise to greater lightning manifests. It meant that for each subsequent bolt striking the same location, the following strike was substantially stronger. The question, of course, was how was Gwen controlling the direction of the blasts so accurately as to converge? The assembly of students picked their jaws off the floor. "Are we still at a high school level?" "Surely military mages are only about this powerful?" The crowd went wild with speculation. Gwen regarded her handiwork with a feeling of satisfaction. For someone schooled in the scientific method, it wasn’ that difficult. One time, she fumbled a spell and left excessive motes of positive energy at the location. She subsequently found that all her other strikes kept becoming redirected to this particular spot. Testing and experimentation ensured, and she found herself a little knack for directing lightning bolts. Since then, she had named her first attack as the 'Guiding Bolt'. "Can you continue?" Gwen nodded, summoning a second wind. She made the gesture of the circle, forming within her mind the Shield spell, and channelled into it whatever mana she had remaining. "Please, I can't hold this for much longer. Sir," Gwen replied between clenched teeth. The choice was as much tactical as it was necessary. Only Abjurers could hold Shields indefinitely, and only Abjurers could generate a shield for others. For all other schools of Mages, a Shield was the last resort of self-preservation. During duels or in competitions, getting past the enemy Abjurer to force enemy Mages into 'Shield-Break' was the victory condition. Once a Mage lost their Shield, they were just flesh and blood humans. Gwen's mana shield was pale blue, with the occasional spark leaping off its sides. Like all Lightning shields, it was an offensive barrier. "Ready yourself," the Instructors forewarned. Three missiles shrieked through the air and struck Gwen's Shield. The first missile burst into a brilliant ball of light upon contact, consumed by the triggering of the Shield's capacitative energy. The second cut through the electrical barrier, missing her torso. The third pierced the Shield with a sound of breaking glass and struck Gwen squarely in the chest, sending her stumbling backwards and onto her buttocks. "Gwen!" Now it was Yue's turn to worry. The instructors breathed out. Much of Spellcraft operated on a balance of power. Abjuration was tough and impenetrable but weak in the offence department. Transmutation was versatile but unexceptional in defence or offence. Evocation Mages had incredible aggression, but tend to be glass cannons. "S" "A" "B" The verdict was out - Gwen passed with flying colours. All the tension drained from her body. She had not disappointed Yue, and she had not disappointed herself. Half a year of nothing but hard work, working through Christmas, Boxing Day and New Year, had paid off. The instructors then offered advice on tuning Gwen's spells for stamina and endurance, discussing possible scenarios and weaknesses. Gwen listened attentively and noted each of their concerns for the future. "Congratulations Gwen!" "Good work!" "Nice!" The crowd was finally warming up to her. Gwen wanted to hail back, but she was dizzy with exhaustion. Her whole body felt drained of energy, wanting collapse somewhere and rest. I need to work on this mana conservation business, Gwen cautioned herself. The last thing Gwen recalled was getting back to Yue before falling into her friend. "Woa there, hold it steady!" Gwen heard Yue cry out. "Miss! I am taking Gwen to the infirmary!"