"Well, Your Honour," answered a voice that sent fear welling up in Marvel.
Caspian Griffith loomed large and blonde in the corner of Marvel's field of vision. His sleeves were rolled up to show off the green tallies he'd racked up so far in his career. There weren't many, despite all his years as a Novice. "If it's my dear friend Marvel Satis, I would be much obliged."
Of course, Marvel thought. He'll show me the many healing capacities of my head down a barrel of water.
The Apprentice looked like she was considering Caspian's offer though.
Marvel jumped in quickly. "I'm fine! Er, I don't require a Healer. Uh, Honoured One."
Probably a lie, considering he felt like his insides were swimming with jagged pieces of glass. But this was his first Novice class. He wouldn't miss it for anything. And he would rather die than go anywhere with Caspian.
She didn't seem to mind one way or another, because she got up immediately, looking almost thankful to not have to deal with him.
"Have it your way," she said. "Die from magical exhaustion and array shrivelling then. See if I care."
Marvel frowned. What sort of Apprentice must she be to be able to sense that? She looked nowhere near as old as Aisling and seemed about his age. Where had she come from, this girl who looked like Quinn but wasn't?
"Alright, children." She faced the rest of the class, clapping her hands together. "My master can't be arsed to show up to teach this class of millworms— which, let's be honest, who can blame him?"
There was a general murmur of assent.
A Magus had to have done something very awful to be relegated to training Novices. It was a job that lacked any prestige whatsoever.
"However," she continued. "He's sent me in his stead to whip your hopeless arses into shape. Again. Despite the fact that Ascension is coming up and I'm nowhere near—" She stopped herself, forcing a smile. "Anyway. Since I can't do anything to him, I feel like taking it out on you maggots today. Who's excited?"
There was no answer.
The woman blinked. Marvel felt a terrifying amount of kathar fill the room. How powerful was this woman? How could he not have known about someone like her? "Are you listening, class? Or shall I make you?"
"No, Apprentice Echo," came the half-frightened chorus, though nobody looked especially surprised. Apparently, the class was used to being casually threatened. Which was odd, because according to Marvel's friends, she had never taught this class before. He had never once seen her around the school.
"Just for that." Apprentice Echo gave the class a vicious smile. "We'll be running through cycling exercises today."
The entire class erupted in a collective groan, which petered off at the glare she swivelled around the room.
"Begin."
As the others moved into the position he'd taken last night, Marvel felt dread course through him. Trying to cycle his athar last night had been an awful experience. He felt sick at the thought of anyone who was wearing a detection spell seeing his— the shadows. Panic beat behind his ribs.
"Not you, maverick," Apprentice Echo said, sounding bored. "Letting a student die just to spite my Master would be a bit much, don't you think?"
"He's not a student," Caspian said, eyes glittering with joy at the opportunity to humiliate Marvel.
"Oh, he is," said Apprentice Echo flippantly. "Or so the missive from the Conclave last night would have my Master believe anyway."
The entire class abruptly fell silent, heads snapping around to look at him in utter confusion.
They knew him. Everyone at the Academy knew Baylin's errand boy who was hopelessly desperate to become a mage but couldn't accept that it was impossible for him.
He had made himself a special nuisance to the Novice class for the past eight years, watching them from afar and attempting to befriend some of their members to gain an advantage. He'd succeeded with Flynn, Pidge, and Adia. But they were… gone now. His chest ached under the new weight of grief. What would they have said if they had survived?
Many of his new classmates likely resented his presence at the Academy. Hearing that a common maverick like him had somehow become a part of their class had to anger these people who'd had to risk their lives slaying golems to get into the Academy.
"Are you a mage now then?" asked another Novice. Osbert, Marvel recalled.
Yes, Marvel wanted to say. He wanted to push back his sleeve and show them, I'm one of you now.
But he was sure the information would get back to the Conclave, and he would have some serious trouble explaining how he'd managed to kill two golems with a broken centre. That being said, hadn't any of the Grandmasters or Higher Mages sensed the energy he used last night? Why was he still alive?
Swallowing his pride, he lowered his eyes in front of his new classmates. He could feel their disgusted glares on him.
"In that case," Echo said, already sounding bored. "Go sit this one out. Caspian, help him to one of the seats."
Caspian grinned, only happy to oblige.
"Mind you, if I find a bruise on him that wasn't there before, you'll spend the rest of the day as a slimy, thick-tailed newt," she added sweetly.
Marvel made to give her a grateful glance, but she was already turning around to scold someone's technique.
Caspian glowered unhappily at Marvel, the veins in his thick neck standing out. "Looks like you got your wish, Marverick."
The nickname was as uncreative as ever.
Marvel said nothing to his new classmate— oh, it still felt so good to think that, even with the increased danger. Caspian hauled him to his feet and dragged him to the seats. Too weak to do much of anything, Marvel could only let his feet scrape the arena floor. The differences in their heights didn't help.
Marvel never bothered comparing himself to the idiot Caspian Griffith. The man was over a decade older than Marvel, from a noble family, albeit one that didn't have the Draconian King's ear. His claim of superiority over Marvel was the advantage of having a centre that worked. None of those things were something Caspian had to work for. Yet he made sure to make Marvel's life as miserable as he could because those were things Marvel lacked.
Right now, as they made their way through the ludus, with people either staring at Caspian with admiration or glaring at Marvel in shock, it was difficult not to compare them.
How must the Novices see Marvel? He was average-looking, plain, with muddy skin and muddy eyes and even muddier hair announcing his mixed parentage. He considered himself athletic, though Caspian's bulging biceps put him to shame. Marvel was more wiry than broad-shouldered, with a forgettable face and his cheap worn tunic.
Combine his lack of any sort of charm or influence with his apparent magiclessness and you had a recipe for general dislike. He was off to a great start, getting all of his classmates to hate him on the first day.
Caspian deposited him on one of the seats and left him with an unwarranted blow to the gut that had him doubling over.
"Don't worry," Caspian said. "It won't bruise."
He left Marvel clutching his stomach, smiling smugly as he joined the rest of the class in cycling their kathar.
Feeling sorry for himself, Marvel watched them move their athar off their centres, through their arrays, and into their hands. Then back the same way. He felt a blistering envy at the blue orbs that formed above their hands, and then a thick shadow of dread.
Eventually, he would have to cycle his athar in front of them. And they would see the shadows, learn how dangerous he was. Then, it would be all over. Once again, he would lose everything.
"I think this is yours," Apprentice Echo suddenly said from beside him, giving Marvel a scare. How had she moved so quietly? She handed him his stolen spellbook.
"Uh, yeah." Warily, he took the offered book. "Thank you, Honoured Apprentice."
"Forget about that etiquette shit," she said, waving away the honorific. Her dark eyes were serious as she studied him, reminding him of Quinn's intensity. He fought not to squirm beneath her gaze. "Word of advice?"
"What?"
"Quit." Echo stopped him before he could protest. "I'm not saying it to be mean. I don't know you, and frankly, I don't care what you do, but if a simple detection spell is going to knock you out, you really shouldn't be here."
Marvel's chest tightened. Well-meaning people telling him to quit was par for the course by now. He didn't mean to, but found himself snorting a laugh.
Echo's brow knitted. "What?"
"What would you do if you were me?" he asked her. "Would you listen to you?"
She arched a single eyebrow.
Marvel knew he really shouldn't, but his frustration made him abandon good sense. "The truth is maybe you mages are just terrified that there are so many people who could turn out to be stronger than you, you just can't let one more person become someone who could beat you someday. Why not discourage anyone else from becoming a threat to you, right?"
Echo stared at him, stunned.
Marvel knew he'd messed up, but he was too high on finally releasing a drop of the frustration he'd carried for the past decade to care.
He did care when she finally smiled, toothy and cruel, like a wolf.
"Is that what you think this is?" she asked in disbelief. "Me lashing out in fear that you'll surpass me someday?"
Marvel held her gaze, refusing to back down. A voice in his head screamed at him that he was being a fool. The Novices already hated him; what was he doing making his teacher despise him too?
"Fine. Perhaps you require a practical demonstration of how out of depth you are." She touched her throat with her finger, amplifying her voice across the room. "Attention, Novices!"
Marvel's classmates stopped what they were doing to listen.
"Your newest member has decided to do the unexpected today and has challenged one of you to a duel!"
Heart sinking, Marvel turned to the crowd, watching their dubious faces. Oh, he was going to die. Completely his fault this time.
"Marvel Satis has volunteered to fight Caspian Griffith," she said, sealing his fate. All he could do was watch. "Griffith, do you accept?"
"Hell yeah," Caspian said, then cleared his throat. "Honoured One."
Echo turned back to Marvel, her eyes the only indication of her simmering rage. "Go on, Marvel Satis. Get out there and prove me wrong."
Clenching his jaw, Marvel stood. There was nothing for it. The nightmare seemed like it wouldn't ever stop.