Today was a terrible day.
The marshy ground squished under his brown boots as Trygg pushed forward along what could barely be called a path, so muddied and worn away it was. He slapped his arms as yet more of the winged pests that had plagued him since he arrived landed for a quick bite of him. Despite the illusory nature of this gods-forsaken swamp, the bites and the miseries inflicted felt and mattered no less. The Mage Academy of Kyrgard preferred a more...realistic...testing of its possible students, so be it if it inflicted lots of wounds or other irritants. But then again, it could be worse he thought.
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Earlier in the day, Trygg arrived alongside several hundred hopefuls at the Mage Academy's testing grounds, a broad parade ground in front of the Academy, bare except for the raised stone circle in the center. As the runed clock tower of the Academy struck the first watch of the day, and the Sun spread its rays fully across the field, the gates opened and three of the Mage Deans emerged, the examiners. The middle examiner stepped onto the stone circle and with a wave of his staff, leaving a fiery trail of runes in its wake which floated around his head, he silenced the murmurings of the assembled multitude.
"The annual evaluation has no major revisions this year," he said as his voice easily carried across the field with the amplification of the fiery runes.
"Each of you will be subjected to the Eye of Kyros, we will examine your progress to assess your potential, both magical and physical. Be wary, though this is an illusory test, its dangers are no less real, and we will not move to save you until your life would be forfeit. Such a result is a failure. The Eye tests each of you by the base potential it senses and such a failing is of your own making. Proceed through the illusion until you find once more the archway, it will appear once the Eye judges the test finished."
With that he struck the center of the stone circle, speaking an incantation to waken the ancient artifact and stepped back as it stirred into life. The great runes carved into the stone began to glow in a multitude of colors as the rings of stone began to spin. Slowly, an arch emerged from the center, its center a pure black as the energies of the circle focused upon it.
As this happened, Trygg listened as the second dean, an elderly man with a long grey beard, unfurled a long scroll and said, "As I call your name, step through the Eye and prepare to be tested!"
"Anar Fior. Nen Tjofgar...."
After a quarter of the examinees had disappeared into the black depths of the Eye, the dean finally announced, "Trygg Jorgsson!" With that, Trygg clutched his father's spear and strode towards the glowing archway. As he stepped onto the circle, it felt as if the runes focused upon him, shifting in their positions and colors. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the veil into the unknown, feeling an odd jerk as the Eye took him.
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Trygg found himself in the middle of a warm, humid swamp, a glance around showed no sign of the arch that brought him here, and the thick boughs of the trees blocked any direct light from falling on the gloomy, stagnant waters that surrounded that path he stood on. He let out his breath and breathed in, instantly regretting it as he smelled all manner of decay and scum.
He stepped forward and felt his boots sinking slightly into the wet ground. Around him the swamp life stirred, most noticeably an irritating buzz of hundreds of flying insects. As they approached this newcomer, Trygg channeled his energy into several of the runes engraved on his spear, preparing a basic warding, both for the pests and an alert for anything bigger that might try him. The two runes he used glowed green from the wooden shaft and copies of them formed and separated, hanging in the air, pulsing a vibrant green amongst the heat. As he focused his mind and worked to manipulate them into the barrier he intended, he felt an unwelcome twitch in his mind.
With a bright flash one of the runes cracked and exploded in a small explosion of green and red. Alongside, the other rune seemed to crumble inwards and vanished from sight. For a moment, the buzzing stopped, startled by the sudden light and sound, but soon resumed and approached him.
A slight headache forming, Trygg swatted the most adventurous bug and with a sigh, he said, "It's now or never, what a terrible day," and began to trudge forward along the path the meandered through the swampy lands.