The Hall of Sanctions within the Magus's Academy
Schala felt weightless. She continued walking, walking past anyone who spoke to her until she came to kneel in the middle of an impressive hall arranged like an old parliament debating chamber. It was a cold day in October, and all the clocks in the town struck the thirteenth hour.
Like vultures perched on branches, around the center of the hall were seats occupied by Magi from all parts of the world. Men and women were peering down on what was to proceed. Soft murmurs filled the hall; the sound grew so dense that it quaked the seats like a tremor.
Schala kept herself silent as she knelt across from another young woman.
In the middle of it all, seated on a throne of blessed cedar was the Lord Regent, a vision of locked hair that veiled his shoulders, dark-skinned with a beard of silver that covered the front of his tunic like an eating bib.
Schala remained motionless. Her breathing was deep, deep enough to saturate her eardrums like a tidal wave that beat against a shore house. The breath drummed in tandem with her heart.
"Control it. You have done this before. You don't want to disappoint," Schala thought to herself. She kept her eyes closed, and her gloved hands laid open, one hand lying flat in the other's palm.
It was time for the exam, the one that would define her career. But it was against her of all people.
Schala exhaled and opened her eyes, her demeanor as calm as a monk.
A few paces away was a young woman who shared her face. The woman bore a smirk as smooth as porcelain, stroking away sapphire dreadlocks from in front of her eyes.
Schala rolled her eyes.
"Greetings, sister," Remilia Claymore said. "I hope you're not scared."
Schala shook her head. She saw Remilia rub her wrist, the location of a bracelet covering a thorny tattoo of a rose. "You wish, sister."
The twins stood up, followed by the Lord Regent, who raised his hand. Schala's heart raced as he opened his mouth to speak.
"Today," he began, "we will examine you two for the Arcana Mastery mark. Not one but two promising young Magi, both begat of the Claymore bloodline, stand here as candidates. But this is neither competition nor a battle of supremacy. We are all here today to see if you two have the capability of becoming Master Magi."
The Lord Regent approached them both. The twins took a glance at him, then focused back on each other. Schala ran her fingers idly along a braided section of her hair as if tucking a tuft behind her ear.
Remilia looked her twin up and down. Her smirk was still ever-present, but nothing alluded to any stress or lack of confidence.
Schala bit the side of her lip. She could see nothing. Her twin's poker face was without blemish.
Remilia saw her bite her lip. "You're nervous, sister," she thought, yet her smirk did not change. "No need to be nervous. This won't take long."
"Both of you may prevail, or neither," the Lord Regent informed. "It depends on your maturity. A Master Magus doesn't just hold power; they help guide the future of the world."
The twins turned to the Lord Regent. They held one hand against the other, pressed the back of their hands to their foreheads, and gave a gentle bow.
"For the will of Arcana," they said to each other.
"Now ready yourselves," the Lord Regent ordered. He stepped back until he reached his cedar throne.
Remilia brushed her hair from her face and snapped her fingers. A blade-length scepter twisted into view, and she took it into her grasp. "For the will of Arcana, my wand is Enkidu, the scepter of beasts!" She spun the wand like a top and brought it to bear like a spear.
Schala snapped her fingers as well, and her lavender hair suddenly felt tight on her head. Parchment pages gathered from all directions into her palms, binding itself with a covering etched in platinum. It formed into a grimoire with sheets lined with gold.
"For the will of Arcana, my wand is Gilgamesh, holding the knowledge of near and far!" Schala held the grimoire open in her palm, and a favorable light flowed from the pages.
"I trust you two are ready. The Claymore sisters should not fall short of the Mark. The examination will continue until a decision is reached," the Lord Regent declared as the Magi around them watched with curious eyes.
Schala drew in more breaths. Remilia kept up her slight smirk.
With a proud cry, the Lord Regent declared: "Now let the examination begin!"
Remilia swung Enkidu above her head and pointed at her sister. Schala countered with a cry, "Cicatrice Vent!"
There was a dazzling burst of emerald wind that swirled and snaked around, snapping at Remilia, who hopped around as light as a feather. The sapphire-haired twin misstepped, and the torrent of wind slapped her off her feet.
Remilia flew backward, flipped head over heel, and stopped her descent. She hovered a foot off the ground, thanks to a gust of wind keeping her aloft.
Schala grew a light smirk. Remilia's grandstanding caused her to lose the first exchange. But she knew Remilia would not let it happen again.
She pointed with Enkidu and incanted: "Feu Spirale!" A plume of fire burst from the tip and raged towards her sister like a dragon's blazing sneeze.
"Mur D'eau!" A giant wall of water splashed from the ground in front of Schala; it collided with the fire and left behind a thick cloud of steam that clouded the twins' vision.
The observers' murmurs grew louder while the Lord Regent looked on with a raised eyebrow. He watched them both regain their bearings like the steam was clear water to him.
The cry of Remilia broke through the murmurs: "Tir Argente!" A thin vein of silver pierced through the steam and struck Schala in the stomach. Schala lurched and clutched her gut as another thread wrenched her off her feet.
A spout of water erupted underneath Schala and kept her from hitting the floor.
"Don't be afraid!" the Lord Regent called. "Fear is the enemy!"
Schala heard the words while Remilia disregarded them. Schala exhaled; she was in the exam, just as Remilia was. She knew her sister in and out. There was nothing Remilia could throw at her-—
"Legeres!" Remilia incanted.
--that she could not counter. Schala looked to her grimoire and said, "Gilgamesh, sword!" A rapier raised from the pages, and she took hold of it as spheres of pulsing light rocketed toward her.
Schala threaded the blade through several spheres and popped them like balloons. Remilia launched more orbs, and Schala moved with the grace of a fairy, destroying the spells as they floated about like angry bees. They converged to strike her all at once; Schala cartwheeled out of danger.
Schala went straight for her sister, her face full of rage laced with determination, which earned a look of genuine surprise from Remilia.
"Legeres!" Schala shouted. She created a sphere of light on the tip of her sword and flung it at Remilia, who countered with her own.
Remilia increased her light sphere; Schala gestured with her free hand, and a second sphere rose at her sister's back. She smirked.
The added sphere struck Remilia's back so hard she felt as though she had gotten hit in the spine with a saucepan. She stumbled forward and groaned like a wounded animal. The sphere struck her once more, and Remilia fell over, clutching at her back.
"The examination is over!" the Lord Regent declared as he stood and held his hand up. Schala stepped away from Remilia, and her sword faded away as she closed her grimoire.
"That was unexpected," the head witch commented as he stepped closer to the twins. "But one must keep a heart as still as a calm stream, even in the most trying of circumstances," he said through a small chuckle as Remilia pulled herself to stand upright.
"It was an excellent test, one I chose to let unfold," the Lord Regent continued. He approached the two as the light spheres dissipated. Remilia still struggled to stand, and Schala offered her no help. "I told you that there are no winners – only truths, for when equal powers clash, their natures come to light."
Remilia huffed in self-inflicted disappointment. Schala sighed and fought to calm her heart.
"Remilia, Schala, you both performed commendably. However, only Remilia has demonstrated a mastery of Arcana and her heart."
Remilia's eyes lit up like fireworks. Schala's heart sank like a stone in a river.
"I did it!" Remilia thought, clenching her fists with a wide smile. "I'm sure this is what Mom and Dad wanted! I'm in the Sanction! Everything came to this!"
"Schala, you failed to keep your aggression in check. You replicated your sister's spell to knock her down, and you grew vindictive. That is not a becoming trait of a Master Magus."
Schala lowered her head. She agreed, her voice coming out as low as a scolded child amid a reprimand.
"But there is always next time, Schala," the Lord Regent reminded.
Schala put on a false smile. His words grew muffled, and her eyes welled with tears, yet her face remained stern. She nodded and turned to leave as Remilia leaped in joy. She did not notice her sister depart the grand hall in silence.
The Lord Regent watched Schala. "Remilia, Master Magi of the Arcana Sanction are entitled to deeper knowledge, knowledge to which you now have unlimited access. Please wait right here for further instruction."
Remilia performed her salute with her smirk stretched across her face. "It is an honor, Lord Regent. I humbly await your teaching."
Schala slammed the doors of the atrium's entrance open with a loud WHAM. The tears flowed free, but she did not break down or weep. She clenched her fists so hard her nails pricked her palms, and droplets of crimson specked the ground beside her.
"Next time," Schala uttered as she walked down the pathway to the exit. "Always next time. I'm not gonna needle at your faults, Schala," she said to herself. "You did good, but..."
"You got vindictive toward the end." The voice of the Lord Regent startled Schala. She turned and resumed her false smile.
The Lord Regent looked at her open palm. There were pricks in her flesh and spots of blood on the ground. He put on a calm smile. "Don't dwell in your failures, Schala. Learn from everything and reject nothing."
Schala kept up her fake smile. "Yes, Uncle Ogoke. I'll do my best next time. I just need a different opponent." She turned and fought more tears. Remilia – no, instead, her parents would not let her hear the end of this.
"Actually," Schala spoke up, "I just need some time to myself."
The Lord Regent placed a hand on her own. "If I could have my way, I'd name you a Master in a heartbeat, Schala. But how can I when you're so obsessed with proving yourself? You don't need to, not to anyone."
Schala kept up her smile. The tears streamed down her face, even with her smile and willpower.
"Schala, you mustn't be afraid of losing. Fear is a witch's worst enemy; it leads to an obsession with power, which beckons darkness we can't hope to defeat. You must never forget - you're not alone."
"I'm not afraid, uncle," Schala responded. She took a cloth from her dress and wiped her face, her voice cracking from the pressure. "I'm not afraid of losing. I'm afraid of being inadequate, of always being in her shadow. I've worked my ass off to get here, even while taking care of Casella and cleaning up after Remilia!"
"Schala, you don't have to--"
"No, Master, you don't understand. If it's not clean and pristine, my parents won't care. They won't give a damn that I came close to winning; they only care that Remilia, the Claymore bloodline star, won. At least if I won, they'd have no other choice but to acknowledge I'm just as good."
Schala straightened up, sniffled to clear her nose, and sighed deeply.
"I swear I won't fail the exam again. I just need to keep my emotions in check," Schala announced with a smile.
The Lord Regent kept up his smile. She turned and departed the grounds without another word while the Lord Regent went inside, where Remilia awaited.
Remilia had calmed herself; she was all business now, standing firm and focused. She needed to absorb everything that the Lord Regent was going to tell her. The other Magi and spectators had come to congratulate her; they, of course, weren't missing an opportunity to shake hands with the premier daughter of the Claymore family.
Remilia was used to it. The Hall of Sanctions was full of people now. The floor reflected bronze-violet flames that had burst into light in all the narrow corners along one wall, and a stream of Magi emerged from them. The Lord Regent waded through the sea of congratulating sycophants and laid hands on Remilia, who greeted him with eagerness.
Rapid-fire questions and well-wishing pervaded the young woman's hearing. She knew it was coming; mom had coached her many times on how to deal. She just had to keep breathing. Breathing was everything to a witch.
A few of the Master Magi raised their varied wands in silent salute, while others simply looked astounded; Remilia was the youngest witch to achieve the rank of Master in decades. It's even more notable that she was a Claymore, who was a significant contributor to Rothgal for many generations.
"Silence!" the Lord Regent called.
No one uttered a word in the atrium.
"I have important business to discuss with Ms. Claymore here, for her ears only, and I will not speak another word until this atrium is clear of souls." The Lord Regent turned to the amassed crowd and folded his arms behind his back. In clumps, the visiting Magi disappeared in whirlwinds of color and sound.
Only two remained whom Remilia recognized on the spot. An olive-skinned woman clad in well-stitched robes tapped her heeled boots in a somewhat impatient manner. She stood next to a similar-hued man who was a full head taller than her. He stood proud as his emerald robes flowed behind him, and he ran a thumb across the ceremonial beads around his neck. The woman crossed her arms as they approached their daughter.
Marius and Juliana Claymore remained behind. They weren't going to miss this for anyone.
"My daughter," Juliana squealed as she approached Remilia, earning a raised eyebrow from the Lord Regent. "You've made us the proudest parents in Augurey."
"Prodigious, to say the least," Marius added. He laid his hand on Remilia's shoulder, a proud smile wide across his lips. "We've expected nothing less from you, love."
Remilia performed her salute but was interrupted by the Lord Regent. "Marius, Juliana, I must share with your daughter privileged information about the situation at hand, and I will not have you influencing her decision. She needs to come to her own decision on her own accord."
Juliana immediately took a defensive gait, furrowing her brow and stepping forward to meet the Lord Regent's line of sight. "Now see here, Ogoke! She's my daughter, and we have a right to know--"
Her voice faltered as Ogoke surveyed the parents with a narrowed brow. They forgot their place, even if it was just for a moment. Ogoke, the Lord Regent, pulled a pocket watch with twenty-four hands from his cloak and glanced at it.
"Remilia will receive half an hour of my time, in which I think we shall be more than able to discuss important matters of what's to come. After that, she shall return home. If your needs for doting are unbearable to keep contained, your daughter Schala needs comfort."
Juliana's voice caught in her throat. Marius lowered his head and cut his eyes away. Remilia had a similar reaction to her father; she looked around for Schala but didn't spot her.
"I--you--" Juliana fought to protest.
The Lord Regent turned his back on them. There was a long silence before Marius cut through it with a simple sentence:
"We will find your sister. We'll be expecting you at home, love."
The two sharply turned in the opposite direction, shimmering out of sight like wraiths. Ogoke lowered his head slightly and sighed.
"Remilia, I want you to consider this an opportunity to prove your worth as a Master Magus. It's a second chance for your sister to change my mind," he declared, and the same soft smile he showed to Schala eased on his face.
"What is it?"
"I care for you two like my daughters, but alas, I'm only your uncle. It pains me to bring this situation to you, to even consider you for it."
"Uncle Ogoke, be straight with me," Remilia said, hiding the fear in her voice. She fought not to clench her fists in anxiety; she had a rough idea of what he was talking about, yet she wanted him to be sure. "Is it about--"
"Noct Vein. It creeps across the world like a monster, devouring everything in its path. Advantageously, you've dedicated yourself to the progress of Arcana, but this is something we weren't prepared for."
Remilia gulped. Her palms felt clammy and heavy.
The Noct Vein did indeed sweep over Rothegal. The Magocracy of Augurey was relatively unaffected by the virus; she knew she heard her parents speaking about the other countries closing their borders, people being forced into quarantines to contain the spread.
The Lord Regent hadn't spoken of it until this moment, at least not where she could hear it. She guessed that Ogoke didn't permit her to know of it then. Now, becoming a Master Magus, Remilia was conscripted into a secret war.
"Remilia Claymore, you as a Master Magus now hold a responsibility to the Magocracy of Augurey to uphold its safety and ideals. I swear you into the Sanction, by the might of the Lord Regent, by the will of Arcana."
Ogoke snapped his fingers, and a sword appeared in his grasp. Remilia saw it, closed her eyes, and knelt to one knee.
"Normally, the Council of Given Magi would join and assist me in welcoming you into our midst, but Noct Vein has begun to ravage our numbers. We fear that they've taken ill, that the ailment is more serious than we've expected."
He laid the blade of the sword on her shoulder and tapped her twice. Remilia shivered; she could feel the chilling aura of the sword as he moved it close to her face.
"We are all Children of the Earth, begat by Mother Gaia. The breath of Ahshae speaks through us. Through our actions, Mother Gaia declares what is and isn't real. Today, I'm here acknowledging what our mother has decided."
Lord Regent raised his sword. Remilia drew in a sharp breath and stood up, looking the Master in the face. Ogoke smiled at her and nodded.
"By the might of the Lord Regent," he repeated, "by the will of Arcana, I swear you into the Sanction. You are marked, Remilia Claymore, Master Magus."
Ogoke's words bounced off empty seats and marble walls, and the Hall of Sanctions felt hollower than ever.
Remilia felt a heated sensation surge through her body. She looked at her tattoo; it gave off a sapphire glow, the rose blooming, the thorns snaking around the flower's stem. She bowed and waved her hand in front of her face. A blue conical hat appeared on top of her head, and she smiled.
"Thank you, uncle." Remilia put on a genuine smile. She pushed away from the thoughts of her parents and basked at the moment. It was her victory, after all.
Elsewhere, Schala looked at her bare wrist, now free of her gloves; she shared the same tattoo as Remilia's, yet hers was on the opposite arm. The rose bloomed, the thorns lengthened and wrapped around the stem. The only difference was that the thorns were jagged like glass.
"Congrats, sister," Schala uttered to herself. "I hope you enjoy it. I know Mom and Dad certainly will."