Our planet is vastly overpopulated. And in an attempt for the Grand Council of Earth to restore balance, each first-born student at Feldspar Academy is now forced to undergo a gruelling trial of imagination on their final day.

Today marks my last day of school, sixteen years old, and it was now my turn to try and pass this mysterious exit exam or else face an eternal branding of failure. I was told this test would allow me the opportunity to develop a prosperous career and a long-lasting reputation. Though, I'd also been warned that the slightest mistake could ruin my life within the blink of an eye.

It wasn't just me, though. Another forty-nine of this year's graduating students were going to have only one hour to create a magical world. And while the time limit was critical, so too would be our ability to write well. We were going to have in our power the potential to shape our family's lives for the foreseeable future.

My trembling knees were already buckling under the pressure of carrying this hefty backpack. I must have brought every book from our home library in preparation for today; I was terrified of failing. Throwing my bag in the car before me, I sat down, slumping into my seat. This car journey was going to be a long one.

It didn't help that my parents drilled the importance of this test into me whenever they had the chance. They were strict like that, but they'd frequently remind me that their harshness was for the best of reasons, and we all knew what those reasons were.

It was no secret that this world was dying. It wasn't just a result of overpopulation either; years of pollution and famine had turned most of Earth's continents into barren wastelands. The place that I'd soon create would have to be better than that. It was to somehow become a reality within the span of a heartbeat, although the workings behind the magic were far beyond my grasp. I'd heard from friends that great portals would allow the mages to guide us all through afterwards, but no one knew for sure. I was still sceptical, of course, but at least I wasn't going to be experiencing it alone.

My father would always encourage me to see the story in everything, and today I would depend on that skill. I'd either make him proud or else see my whole family suffer.

Snapping out of a daze, I was stunned when the car ground to a halt. Beaming at me with a wolfish grin, my father dove out of the door first. The battering wind blew his brown fedora hat away, but that didn't phase him in the slightest. I was shocked; the man would never leave the house without that thing. I swear I'd never seen him so excited; after all, it was finally time for his firstborn son to become a 'world-builder.'

Sheepishly, I peered out from behind the black-tinted windows of the car, staring in awe at this wonder before me. Several rows of white-washed steps led up to a grand oak wood doorway; being large enough to allow giants to enter, I felt tiny.

According to my father, giants were also real; they'd just migrated to another realm long ago. A part of me still thought of this idea as being a piece of fiction, a story created to scare children, but that didn't stop me from gawking at the building's incredible architecture. Preparing to walk in, I watched my feet intently, hoping that I wouldn't tumble down every hard stone step like a rubber ball.

Just as I was about to knock on the door, I heard someone call out to me. It was Anya Ravenhill, my girlfriend. Damn, it still felt great to say that. With beautiful auburn hair dangling down past her shoulders and soft, perfect skin, creasing with her gentle smile, I got distracted and wandered face-first into the wall.

My nose was throbbing and threatening to explode with blood; I could no longer stand, and a second later, I dizzily fell to the floor. There was no possible way to play this off as being a deliberate stunt.

Seeing my reflection in the gleaming paintwork of the door, I grimaced; my long jet black hair was ruffled, with stray strands hanging irritatingly in front of my eyes. My nose was reddening like a tomato, with black bruising starting to appear on either side. Even my navy school blazer bore noticeable scuff marks. I knew that there was no point in trying to tidy up; I looked a mess, and she knew it too.

I could feel her gaze on the back of my neck as well; she wasn't missing a thing.

Crap.

Giggling under her breath, Anya darted over to my aid, and I felt sick to the stomach.

'Hey, it's good to you see.' I yell, already embarrassed.

I would always get this way around her. I'd known her for six years now, but I'd only been her boyfriend for four months. I guess the thought that she could do so much better had stuck with me.

She laughed again, biting her lip. Her every move was elegant, and she bore a kindness that only made me feel that much more in love. I couldn't help but gaze into her blue sapphire eyes, the light from the sun causing them to sparkle even more than usual. If given a chance, I would marry the woman in a heartbeat.

'Jake? Jake?'

She must have been calling my name for ages.

After helping me up to my feet, Anya passed me one of my many discarded books: 'Creating The Perfect World' By Magus Hathor Stormbringer.

'They always have the most heroic sounding names don't they?' She asked, admiring the front cover.

'Who?'

She smiled again. 'The authors. I always find that their names alone boast of great accomplished deeds.'

'They do, and this is one of his better works!' I reply, babbling. 'Want to come to my place and check out my collection?' Anya still hadn't met my parents yet, so this would be a massive step for us.

I wiped the sweat from my brow, both eagerly awaiting and dreading what her answer might be.

Surprisingly, she smiled back. 'Any other day, and I'd take you up on that offer, Jake; we've got our exam in a few minutes, though.'

I'd forgotten all about it. I wanted to say more to Anya, but I could make out a strange chanting in the back of my mind, building up like the roaring of a crowd in a packed stadium.

Anya was massaging her ears; it seemed as though she could hear it too. 'What is that?'

I shrugged. 'Perhaps it's the examiner giving us our five-minute warning?'

The more we thought about it, the more we realised how much sense this made. I walked through first, noticing strange writing above the grand doorway. Illuminating brilliantly against the flat coloured stone of the rounded arch beneath it, fiery orange words of a mysterious language were searing into my brain. I would have to study them later.

As we both entered, we glimpsed fifty large wooden desks aligned in neat rows, and at the front of the room sat the most peculiar-looking man that I'd ever seen.

Standing up to greet us as we walked in, he bore a wicked grin. The man was less than half my height, and I was only five foot seven inches. He was also wearing shoes made from tattered cheap leather, with ridiculous conical ends. How anybody could walk in them was a miracle.

He had on baggy red trousers which seemed to sag at the hips, and draping over them was a golden tunic, with the crest of a dragon emblazoned across the front. The man's white plaited beard drooped down to his waist, making him look even older than he probably was. His skin was rather weather-beaten as well; if I had to guess, I'd have said that he was fond of braving the outdoor elements.

Pointed ears were poking out from either side of his feather cap; the thing was too small for him, and it was failing to cover up a balding head. Even his bizarre purple eye makeup was something to admire; I was already considering writing his character into my world. This addition would be fine, so long as I remembered to include those who were dearest to me.

Ushering us to our seats, the creature, man, whatever he was, paced back and forth with growing impatience. I could understand his frustration; after all, we were only allowed to take one hour to design an entire world.

Only forty-five seconds were remaining before we would embark upon the challenge of our lives, and many seats were still empty.

In the final ten seconds, the old doors groaned in protest as a dozen students dashed in, red-faced and racing to find their places. It was chaotic, and I couldn't help but notice that there were still some absentees as the bell rang one last time. How any parent would allow their child to miss such an important ritual was beyond me. Glancing around sneakily, I was comforted by the stolid presence of my friends. They must have rushed in at the last moment with the others.

The door burst open again, and the remaining students began darting around, searching for their name cards. The short examiner stamped his feet once, and the tardy scholars were forced to sit on the floor as the examination commenced.

I tore my eyes away from the commotion with great difficulty, mentally lashing myself. Come on, Jake. There's a lot at stake here.

Hopefully, Asher and Violet would remember what we'd been discussing every day for the past several months; the thought of them forgetting had been causing me a lot of anxiety lately. They'd have to recall that if we were to ever see each other again after this exam, we'd have to include each other within the narratives of our created worlds. Many of the books that I'd read recently said as much. Supposedly, the mere mention of another person would interconnect their realms for all eternity. This eventuality could be a wonderful thing or a terrible thing if we weren't careful.

Spartanly decorated halls began vanishing in an instant, with tables, chairs and even people popping out of existence like soapy water bubbles. Eventually, everyone was gone, and I realised straight away that it was finally time after so many years of preparation.