Mom hired a carriage for the day of my exam. I'm not entirely sure about the content of the exam, but I know for a fact that Greendale is a magical academy. For my week of preparation I rumaged through Dad's old things and eventually found some books on magic theory. Althought I don't fully understand all of it, I'm sure I'll at least get a passing grade.
However, there are usually two exams, written and physical. The physical exam, I assume, will most likely be testing my body's compatiablity for magic. From what I've gathered from my brief time studying, magic is very similar to muscles. Some people can be born with bodies that easily gain muscle, but not all will hone that talent. Some people might not be physically bulky, but they can still be much stronger overall than someone who is.
In the same sense, both muscles and magic can be seen as a very vain or out of reach concept, and both need paitence and consistently to develop adeptly.
Mom sits across from me, looking out the window. She tries to hide it, but I can tell she's visibly nervous. She helped me tie up my hair and picked out my clothing. Which took longer than you'd think. I have fairly heavy hair, so I usually would wear it down. And my clothes are all simple, but Mom made me wear some higher quality things from when we were a pretty esteemed family.
When the carriage comes to a halt, I look back at Mom. "Bye." I say simply, and see myself out of the carriage.
I find a tall, black haired man waiting for me. He looks to be in his mid-forties. His face is cold, almost angry. I approach him. "Greetings. Dara, is it? Well hurry, you're almost late. I'll escort to the testing rooms." He says, and starts walking to a building.
I pause for a moment, exasperated at his rudeness. Oh, well I should get used to people being obnoxious, nobles tend to have their heads up their asses. I quickly follow behind though, no matter how annoyed I might be.
As we walk through a garden, I feel lightheaded, the flowers let off a sickly sweet scent that made me want to vomit. The man notices and pauses for a second. "Are you alright?"
I nod my head, and the man looks a bit angry. "Yes of course you'd be fine, I doubt people like you would be affected." He scoffs and hurries his pace.
We pause at the entrance of an initmidating building, he opens the door and leads me throught the halls. The place is errily empty, and I feel a chill down my spine when we enter a grand arena.
It's completely bare, except for the three people seated down below. If this was a yearly exam, I bet the arena would've been filled with supportive family and curious onlookers. The resonance of that 'what-if' made the place feel dreary, with my head spinning from the lingering flowery scent and the weird atmosphere, it was incredibly overwhelming.
"Step up please." An old woman said. She sat along the other two, who also looked quiet old. There was a small stage infront of the three, I assumed that's what she meant and I headed over.
There was a small, simple desk on the stage, on top of which had a glass ball, a feather and a fancy-looking box.
The three seated had quills in their hands and parchment in front of them, on a similarly styled desk. The woman from before speaks up again. "Please pick up the glass ball on the desk next to you."
I comply immedieatly. They all scriblle something down. What on earth is this test? This doesn't seem like a physical or written one, just weird objects. Did they change the test to be more simple because it was only for one person?
"Now, listen carefully. Close your eyes," I close them. "Imagine the glass ball in your hands becoming water, now project that thought into it. But do not move. To project your thought, slow down your breathing, see if you can replicate to sound of waves in your mind, or the feeling of water on your skin."
I have my eyes closed, but feel incredibly annoyed. Is she looking down on me? Is this not very basic magic? And from the way she's describing this, does she want me to do a chantless spell?
From the second I held the glass ball, I could tell that it was a magic item, meant to enhance the user's magical ability. But, not matter how annoyed I might be, Mom said to do my best.
I clear my mind, and see myself falling through an abyss before abruptly crashing into a sea of water. I panic and try to open my eyes, but I can't. Suddenly seaweed wraps around my ankles and I can't breath, disorted shapes, vaguely looking of fish, surround me.The water slowly becomes darker and darker.
I hear someone gasp and I manage to open my eyes. In front of me, the glass ball is shattered, and the shattered remains are hovering just above the ground. The testers watching me viciously scribble something down. The old lady speaks once more.
"Very good, now, place your hand above the feather." She says, I do just that. "This time, without closing your eyes, do whatever you can to move the feather without touching it."
So a spell? Easy enough. I open my mouth, but then close it. For some reason, it feels off to so openly do a spell, maybe I should challenge myself? Chantless magic is incredibly difficult- but for something like moving a feather? It should be easy enough. I channel my intent to the palm of my hand, and push it outwards. Nothing happens at first, but the feather is suddenly pushed away, as if there was a strong wind coming from my hand, but htere was nothing.
The testers took note of this, but I heard someone's audible outrage. The black-haired man from before looked furious