The interior of the great hall was spacious, vaulted ceilings rising high overhead, supported by columns of obsidian that disappeared into the void above.

Wait, void? Blinking rapidly, Rowan peered upwards. Sure enough, the ceiling was comprised of an inky blackness, dark and stormy, that swirled around above the gathered applicants. Peering around the room, Rowan could see that several other applicants had also noticed the features of the room, their mouths agape as they took it all in.

In contrast with the ceiling, the rest of the room seemed downright mundane in comparison. Large tapestries hung from the walls, depicting scenes from sagas and myth. One depicted a horned stag bowing in front of a winged man, another a young girl pulling a sword from a tree, while others showed armies or castles, all embroidered with thread that seemed to glow in the light of the hall.

Wisps of blue and amber light hovered in sconces upon the walls, providing magical illumination for the student hopefuls. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Rowan spied a tapestry at the far end of the hall, larger than the others, with a four-winged dragon roaring triumphantly over a tree of violet and rose.

“Applicants.”

A voice rang out over the assembled throng, not loud, but commanding nonetheless. Going quiet, the crowd looked for the speaker, casting their gazes towards the end of the hall. There, below the four-winged dragon tapestry stood a woman, her robes a deep black, like that of the void above them. A lectern was placed in front of her, its shelf in the form of two draconic wings, each curling slightly as if ready to take off at any moment.

Seeing that she had the attention of the students, the woman began. “Welcome to Faebrook Academy. I am Lira Kess. For those of you who succeed in today’s entrance exam, I shall be your headmistress.”

A dull murmur greeted this announcement as the gathered teens craned their heads to get a better view of their future headmistress.

“Although I am sure you all have many questions, I plan to keep today’s greeting brief,” Lira Kess continued, heedless of the movement of the crowd. “There will be plenty of time for you to get to know Faebrook better once you pass the exam. As for the exam, Faebrook’s entrance exam has four parts. A test of knowledge, a test of skill, a test of combat, and a test of potential. You will need to pass three of them if you wish to gain entrance to Faebrook.”

Rowan grew nervous upon hearing this. Although he was confident in his smarts, those were bits of knowledge picked up from a lifetime of living on the streets. They couldn’t compare to years of studying under the watchful eye of noble tutors. No more than his month of combat experience would allow him to stand up to trained fighters who had been holding a sword since before they could walk as the confident stances of many of those standing around him seemed to indicate.

“However,” Lira Kess’ next words silenced the doubters, “that is only for the ordinary. Those who can perform extraordinarily in any category will be admitted regardless of their scores on the other tests. Faebrook is not a place that shies away from the talented, but welcomes them. For those who succeed, remember that there is always someone more talented than yourself. Many gathered here today are from noble lineages, or descended from powerful clans. Although you may be powerful in the outside world, in Faebrook, you are simply another student. Every battle has both a winner and a loser, and no one can win every battle. Study hard, practice harder, and strive for the top. Only then can you be worthy of entering Faebrook.”

With that, Lira Kess stepped back, her robe swishing slightly as it seemed to swallow her whole, enveloping her within its inky darkness. As Rowan watched, the robe shrank, folding in on itself like a flower returning to its bud. A moment later, it was gone, all traces of the headmistress having disappeared from the platform.

As the gathered applicants began to murmur, a short man with a large beard climbed atop the plinth, the lectern magically descending until the dragon wings framed his face.

“Now that the headmistress is done, the entrance exam can begin,” the bearded man said, his voice higher than Rowan had expected. “If you would all please follow me into the examination hall, we can begin with the Test of Knowledge.”

The examination hall was a large auditorium with tiers of desks arranged in semi-circles all facing the front of the hall. Spaced roughly three feet apart were chairs, in front of which inkpots and quills had been placed. Shuffling quickly into the hall, the applicants were directed to their seats by the bearded man, who took his place at the front of the hall as the last few stragglers were seated.

With a wave of his hand, the bearded man conjured several dozen stacks of paper that fluttered down neatly in front of each applicant. Looking at his papers, Rowan could see row upon row of questions, each with a small box beside it.

“The Test of Knowledge is fairly simple,” the bearded man said, his voice carrying through the auditorium. “Simply answer as many questions as you can in the time allotted. There are questions on all sorts of topics, from history to general magical theory, so make sure to skip past questions you aren’t sure about answering. The criteria for a pass is at least twenty correct answers. You have one hour, good luck.”

With that, the test began. Scanning the paper quickly, Rowan’s face paled. Although he understood the words, the sentences they formed were complete gibberish to him.

‘What were three of the primary factors behind the fall of the Terrmian Empire?’

There was a Terrmian Empire? Rowan blinked. Alright, let’s skip that one.

‘Name three of the five emperors.’

This question was a little better as Rowan did at least know the name of the emperor that had ruled over Taureen: Emperor Baltaff. However, the names of the other four were completely foreign to him. Praying that other sections of the test would be easier, Rowan began to flip through the sheets in front of him, doing his best to answer as many questions as he could.

The other sections were not easier, and it was with difficulty that Rowan forced himself to write down answers. Although there were a few trivia questions, such as the two at the start, they were mostly things that would have been taught to nobles, not street rats such as himself, and thus could not be relied on for easy points. The rest were more abstract, such as the question asking him which out of several strangely marked cubes a length of oddly shaped paper would create, or the question about which number came next after four other seemingly random numbers.

An hour later, Rowan’s right wrist ached from the continuous usage of the quill, and his palm was covered in ink. Dipping his quill into the inkpot, he was just about to finish answering the question he was on when the sound of a bell rang out through the room.

“Alright, quills down,” the bearded man shouted. Hurriedly, Rowan jotted down two more words before dropping his quill and leaning back in his chair, relieved to finally be done with the test of knowledge.

Silently thanking the orc matron for teaching him how to read, not that it seemed to have helped much, Rowan watched as his test vanished, sucked back into whatever magical space the bearded examiner had released them from.

All things considered, Rowan felt that he had done fairly well for a man of his upbringing, which meant that he would be lucky to just barely squeak in over the line with a passing grade when the tests were marked, and that was being generous.

Although he knew that he had done absolutely terrible on the history and other specialized knowledge sections, he felt that he had done reasonably well on the more general questions about mathematics and logic. But that was just a guess, much like the vast majority of answers. It was equally likely that he had gotten everything wrong, a possibility Rowan did his best not to entertain.

Praying that he had not failed the exam already, Rowan did his best to remind himself that he merely needed to pass, not excel. Even if I did fail, there are still three more tests, I can’t panic here. Employing the breathing exercise that Darm had taught him, Rowan calmed his frayed nerves, watching the bearded man to see what they would be doing next. He did not have long to wait.

“The next test shall be the Test of Skill,” the bearded examiner announced, pointing to a door opposite the one they had entered from. “Form a line in front of the door. We’ll lead you to the testing ground once everyone is ready.”

Skill, eh? Hopefully a skill I know, or I might be screwed. Rowan thought darkly as he grabbed his things from beneath the desk. The first test had gone badly, he could not afford for the same to be true of the second.

With a scraping sound, a hundred chairs were pushed back as the applicants rose from their desks. Relieved to finally be free of the cramped pose he had been stuck in for the last hour, Rowan stretched broadly before following the other applicants down towards the already forming line at the door. Taking his place in the line, Rowan was mentally reviewing every skill he had ever learned when a small tap on his shoulder grabbed his attention.

“How do you think you did?”

Turning around, Rowan was confronted by a man of impressive stature, his skin the colour of wheat and his hair a sort of dirty blonde.

“Sorry?” Rowan asked.

“How do you think you did?” the man repeated. “I felt that I did fairly well on the history and geography parts. But I stumbled on the numbers a bit. Arithmetic’s never been my strong suit. I’m Dugan by the way.”

“Rowan,” said Rowan, shaking Dugan’s hand. “I feel I did okay?" he lied, "but as long as it was enough for a pass, I’m fine with it.”

Dugan laughed at this, a hearty chuckle that seemed to shake his entire frame. “Fair enough. Faebrook only has a twenty percent acceptance rate, and that’s not including the countless applicants who were already rejected before even making it to this stage. Aiming for a pass is the smart move.”

“Only twenty percent?” Rowan asked, his jaw dropping. “I knew Faebrook was tough to get into, but that tough?” All of a sudden, his nervousness intensified tenfold, as the fact that he almost definitely failed the first test weighed down heavily upon him. Doing his best not to show any sign of weakness to Dugan, Rowan felt a bead of sweat drip down his back.

Dugan regarded him strangely. “You didn’t know that? Faebrook’s entrance exam is one of the tougher ones among the top ten academies. It’s not uncommon for less than a tenth of all applicants to pass, and even failing the exam is nothing to sneeze at. Only ten percent of those that apply even make it to the examination stage, and that's not even counting all those who don't even bother applying because they know they won't make it. Unless you’re a standout student, or have a strong backer, it’s difficult to be accepted to Faebrook, let alone any of the other great academies.”

“Right,” Rowan nodded, secretly wondering to himself what he had gotten himself into. Living on the streets of Taureen, he had heard tell of the reputation of Faebrook as the ‘Adventurer Academy’, but he had not known that their requirements for admission were so high. Were Tethis and Darm really important enough to have secured him a spot in the exams of an academy with only a twenty percent acceptance rate? And more importantly, did they really think he had the capability to pass such a difficult exam that even nobles struggled with? Fortunately, Rowan was saved from his torturous thoughts by the bearded examiner, who ushered them from the auditorium into a large hallway.