The woman busied herself by roaming the room for various objects, settling down with a metal square frame in hand, the center hollow. "First, we need to make sure you truly are Valory Efron."
Val raised an eyebrow. "I thought you guys already identified me back when I first entered."
"For the most part," she concurred, prying her desk drawer open. "Any experienced illusion or mind mage could do the same, however."
She grabbed a metallic pad and slid it over to Val, the sheen blinding her as it passed under the light sphere above. "They cannot fake the distinct nature of the aether within you, thankfully. Touch the device, please."
Val did as told. "Isn't all aether the same?"
"Look at it this way. If letters came across as identical, the stamp in the corners tells the receiver where it's from. We imprint all the aether that lives and passes through us by virtue of our soul signature. That stamp is what I'm looking for and… great! Glad to be talking to the real Efron."
"I'm glad too?"
"Yes, you are. Any indication otherwise and you incur the wrath of some of the most powerful mages."
Val gulped. That was a fate she wanted to stray far away from.
"Let's move on." The woman held the square frame she seized earlier up to the left of her face. "Once I activate it, tell me exactly what you see—or in a more accurate term—sense."
At Val's go-ahead, a pale blue filled the square's hollow core, tinting the woman's face a sickly colour. The gel-like material fluctuated and bubbled.
A cityscape came into view. Wheeless cars zoomed about in the still depiction of a metropolis. Quite peculiarly, the city had no occupants besides one lone lady holding an umbrella. 'Why the random umbrella?'
Val squinted and the little speckles decorating the piece sharpened, as if clearer. Was that rain?
"Where are you?" The woman asked.
She tried to pinpoint an object able to distinguish the surroundings—banners, signs, anything. Plenty hung over various shops and centers, but she found it difficult to discern. "In a city of sorts. Probably in the First Halo."
"Could you specify? A name of the city, for example?"
Val shook her head. Though visible, the text appeared faint and blurry, like it was covered by a hazy pane.
Retrieving a notepad out of her white coat, she scribbled down on it. "Why in the First Halo?"
"The cars," Val said. "Practically everyone is using anti-gravity enchantments, more than midborn like us can afford. Those living within the city must be well-off and, as they say, the First Halo is the richest of the three."
"Indeed." She jotted her findings, whatever they were. "And the weather? Is it nice out?"
"I thought it was at first…" Val bit the bottom of her lip. Should she continue? Maybe the rain was her imagination. It could be her eyes too. Caro always complained she needed glasses whenever she squinted at her homework. 'The lady did say sense though.'
"And?" the woman prodded.
"But it's raining out. Even weirder, there's only one person in the whole city."
The woman whistled and continued to write on her notepad. "Last question. Is it night or day?"
'Night or day?' Val hadn't thought of that. Looking at the blue, wavy picture, she couldn't tell. There wasn't a sun in the sky, nor a moon or any stars. "I don't know."
"Honesty is a good trait to have, young lady." The woman typed on the keyboard. "It was a trick question. It makes your other answers have more weight, even if lying rarely goes in the favour of those tested."
Typing one last word, she whirled around. "Want to see?"
At Val's nod, the lady rotated the screen of the desktop her way.
'Valory Efron'
'Aether Strand Count: 11'
'Aetherial Vessel: Raw'
'Identification Strain: Unbound'
'Element(s): N/A'
'Rank: N/A'
'Position on the Aether Spectrum of Talent: Silver (High)'
'Age: 16'
'Height: 5'6'
'Past/Current Institutes: Vexal Preparatory School, Vexal Elementary School'
'Guild Affiliation: None'
'Crafting Hall Affiliation: None'
'Status: Citizen'
"Silver…" Val muttered, breath hitching.
The assessment knocked around Val's head a few times, each instance making it harder to assimilate.
Silver.
Her eyes alive with enthusiasm, the woman adjusted her glasses once more. "Silver is spectacular! And you're on the higher end, almost a gold!"
The woman's energy was infectious, and Val found herself chuckling. "Almost gold!"
"Hold your spell, though." The lady crouched low. "While this is good news, I need to inform you of the rest. Your ASC of eleven barely marks you as unbound and most in the elemental world will still see you as a typic regardless. Many view even thirty aether strands to be peasant-like. "
'Of course they would.' The edges of Val's lips curled downwards. "That seems unfair."
"Life hardly ever is." The woman pointed to the unopened, red tabs staining her screen. "Forty participants were sent home today, who's to say it was their fault?"
Val winced at the retort.
"Fate has its reasons and mine, currently, is to explain your situation, as per my job," the woman said. "There's a reason both ASCs and PASTs are held on equal levels and the best way to explain without breaking the Laws is through a painting analogy."
Val leaned forward in her plush chair. "I'm listening."
"We treat aether strand counts as the amount of paint an artist has and the depiction they desire to draw, cultivation," the woman explained. "As such, the more paint you have, the easier it is to create and build, which is why high ASCs are desirable.
"On the other hand, PASTs determine how well a painter can wield a paintbrush, and therefore the paint they possess." She tapped the mug parked beside her keyboard, focusing on its curve and volume. "Painting speed, elegance, and the ability to add depth are all determined by this aptitude."
"Unfortunately, if you only have a droplet of paint like me, you can't build much," Val muttered.
"That's where being a silver comes in." The woman cracked a slight smile. "Cultivation is a marathon, not a sprint and you won endurance instead of speed. It'll be slow and definitely tedious, but if you keep at it, eventually, you'll reach a point where a higher PAST is more favourable than a high ASC. "
The door swung open, revealing a frowning corporal. "I said it'd take ten minutes for group eight and Efron used half of that time alone. Miss Rox, mind explaining yourself?"
"Her PAST was left blank. It's a quick and easy fix, though it takes some time," Miss Rox replied.
"Odd," Corporal Wren murmured. "That should've been done four years ago."
"Exactly. This is as weird as that other case. What was her name again?"
The Corporal leaned against the wall, her arms folded. "Hayes, I believe."
Val sprung from her seat. "Caro—I mean—Carielle Hayes?"
Corporal Wren nodded apprehensively. "You can ask her for the details yourself." She glanced at Miss Rox. "Anything else?"
After a few more clicks of the mouse, Miss Rox shook her head. "She's good to go."
Corporal Wren slinked out the door. "With me, Efron."
Val lingered in the room, the news about her friend delaying her actions, before following the corporal's heels. The next youth slipped past her, glaring daggers at her. Used to the rumours whispered about her father alongside the onslaught of unkind name-callings over the years, the hostile behaviour was almost unnoticeable.
Almost.
She couldn't control the way her head ducked and the fact turned her stomach.
Val spotted the corporal's turning figure down the hall and chased after it. Corporal Wren seemed like the kind of lady to leave her behind, not caring whatsoever if it resulted in her disqualification. They twisted and turned for the umpteenth time, soon standing in front of a familiar pair of oversized, grand doors. Back to the stadium?
The Corporal tapped her I.D. on a black box affixed to the side and the doors slid open, an abyss-like tunnel on the other end. "We're running a bit late on time and group seventeen hasn't started their second test. Since your case took as long as it did, you can join them."