Although Rowan claimed that he wanted to stay out of whatever it was that Reinne had planned for Morgana, he would be a liar if he said that he paid the matter no attention. The problem was that even three weeks later, there was absolutely no change in the attitudes of either girl.

Reinne was still the same cheerful, bubbly girl she always was around Droon, and treated Rowan civilly enough as the party leader. Her fights with Morgana were also the same as they had always been, with no hint of malice beyond that which she normally displayed.

Morgana was also the same as ever. If she had read the note Rowan had written her... Well, he called it a note, but it was closer to a scrap of paper, the words: “Watch out for Reinne,” scrawled on top and then slipped inconspicuously into her bag during practice. If she had read it then she gave no hint of being bothered by it, still operating in the same manner she always had and paying Reinne no more heed than she had before, at least while Rowan was present.

Soon, even he himself was unable to pay the matter much heed, as the final exams went from being weeks away to a week, then from a week to a few days, and finally, tomorrow.

Eyes wide open, Rowan stared at the ceiling over his bed, his mouth forming words as he muttered softly to himself.

“The flame rune’s history can be traced to ancient Valendia. Its predecessor was the spark rune which was used by early practitioners to light fires on the great Valendian plain…”

Magic was the first exam of five, each to be done on successive days. Fortunately, this was the exam Rowan had the most confidence going into, his scores on the previous semester’s exam having been fairly high, and his grasp of the material Professor Typhandrios had taught them this semester relatively strong.

Still, just because he was prepared did not mean that Rowan was not apprehensive about the exam that he had to write nine hours from now, and he continued to review everything they’d learned in his head, tracing runes behind his eyelids and espousing the rules and history of magic with his lips.

The next morning came as a surprise to Rowan, who could not remember falling asleep. The last thing he could recall was reviewing the flame rune that they would definitely be tested on today.

Around him, the other boys were all getting dressed, textbooks open on beds, and notes scattered everywhere as everyone got in a bit of last minute studying. Then they were off to the cafeteria, where a bland but hearty meal was served to provide them sustenance, before finally heading towards the classroom.

Three hours, two cramped, ink-stained hands, and one near nervous breakdown later, and Rowan left the classroom feeling simultaneously stressed and relieved. The exam had been long, and the questions far more in depth than he would have liked, but Rowan felt confident that he had answered them all correctly. Well, most of them anyways. Thankfully, he had aced the practical part, so there was nothing to worry about there, and all in all, he felt like he had done a good job of not bungling his first exam.

There was no time to celebrate, however, as the clock slowly ticked down. Tomorrow’s exam was history, and he would need all the studying time he could get if he wanted to get a good grade in this semester’s class.

History, Combat, Intro to Magical Theory II, the next three exams flew by in quick succession. For each, Rowan focused purely on the exam in front of him, doing his best not to worry about the ones to follow. He would need to pass them all to stay at Faebrook, but there was no point worrying about tests to come when there was already one in front of him.

After three grueling days, Rowan stumbled out of Kanna’s classroom with a weary look on his face. His right hand was ink-stained, and his left still curled in the half-crooked position it had been in for the last three hours as a rest for his cheek.

Seeing the rest of the class spill out behind him, Rowan allowed himself a moment to celebrate. He had done it, the last of the written exams was complete, and he had not bombed any of them. In fact, he felt that he done rather well, especially in the magic related ones. Now, only the final examination remained: the dungeoneering exam.

Rowan gulped as he imagined what lay in store for them tomorrow. Unlike the other classes outside of combat, the dungeoneering exam did not have a written final exam. Instead, they had taken tests throughout the year, and would now be undergoing a practical evaluation of the skills they had learned in these past five months with Professor Rockhammer. To put it more plainly, they would be entering a dungeon.

For Rowan, this should have been something to smile about. After all, he had spent the better part of the last year delving into dungeons every weekend. But this time was different. Unlike the dungeons he had entered up untl now, he was not entering as a porter, but as an actual party member, with all the responsibilities and pressure that came with the role.

Worse, he was the nominal leader of the party, and would have to somehow wrangle his team through whatever dungeon Rockhammer saw fit to throw at them. A prospect that had seemed much less terrifying four months ago when the party had named him leader.

Next to him, the only member of his party not responsible for that unfortunate turn of events swept by, her back perfectly straight despite the stress of the exam. Rather than call out to her, Rowan watched Morgana go, not willing to endure a conversation with her right now.

He had spent enough time over the past few weeks worrying over the effect Reinne and Tianna’s plan would have on their party cohesion if she chose to execute it before the dungeoneering exam. Now that the moment was finally upon them and nothing had happened, he simply felt apathetic.

Whatever Reinne had planned, whether she had decided to go through with it or not, Rowan no longer cared. He just wanted them all to work as a functioning party for long enough to clear the exam. Then they could disband and he would never have to deal with Reinne Westmarch or Morgana Lunythe as party members ever again.

After a party training session that they purposefully kept short so as not to tire themselves out prior to the real thing, Rowan went to bed early. The last four nights had seen him get about as much sleep as he would normally get in two, and he hoped to remedy the exhaustion that had resulted with a good long rest.

Morning, a quick shower, a tasteless breakfast, a short return to the dormitory to retrieve his gear, and Rowan was off. The location of the dungeoneering exam was a group of dungeons below the academy that were curated for the purpose of testing. Similar to the dungeoneering finals, these dungeons were managed by the academy, though they lacked the colosseum built over them that the dungeoneering teams got to enjoy.

Although the exam was to be held below the academy, the meeting point for the first years was the great hall, where they convened with their parties and were sorted into groups, each group corresponding to one of the five dungeons to be used for the exam.

With over a hundred students and just over twenty parties to manage, each group had between four and five parties, overseen by a professor who would watch and grade them using the magical scrying devide that had been employed for the dungeoneering finals.

Once the students had been divided into groups, Professor Rockhammer took the stage and began laying out the rules of the exam, what they could expect, and how they would be graded. She had already done so the week before in class, but Rowan still paid rapt attention, not wanting to fail because of some arbitrary little rule that he had misheard one week and four other exams worth of cramming for later.

The explanation done, Rockhammer led group one out of the hall. As she did, four other professors took charge of the remaining groups, each following Rockhammer as they descended into the depths of the academy.

From the people Rowan could see standing around as they arrived at the group four waiting area, it appeared that the other three parties included one from each of Hafgufa, Turul, and Jangar. Thankfully, there were no parties from Lykia or Draigwyn, which meant that neither Tianna nor Klou’s buddies would have access to them prior to the final exam. He wouldn’t put it past Klou to try and get him injured right before the exam, by ‘accident’ of course.

The waiting area itself was a stone room, roughly a hundred feet wide and about the same in length. Along the walls, training dummies could be seen, as well as a few chairs and couches, arranged far enough away from each other that no parties who chose to take advantage of the seating would be forced to sit together.

At the far end of the room, a large door stood barring the way to the dungeon where they would be tested. In front of it sat a small podium, which Professor Dahlren had just ascended, and from which she now looked down upon the gathered students with a calm expression.

“We will be starting the exam in five minutes. Could the leaders of each party come to the stage?”

Wearing a nonplussed look, Rowan broke free from his party, walking towards the stage as three other students, two boys and a girl, mirrored him. Arriving at the stage, they waited for further orders. Dahlren did not make them wait long, and she produced a small bag which she held forth.

“Each of you pick a scrap of paper from the bag. The number on it is the order in which you’ll enter the dungeon.” She said this loudly, for the benefit of not just the leaders, but the rest of the waiting parties as well. Having said her piece, she shook the bag and motioned for them each to reach in.

The girl from Turul was first, reaching into the bag and withdrawing a small slip of paper bearing the number one on both sides in bold font. Professor Dahlren smiled at her.

“Cassia Laudus, your party will enter the dungeon first.”

With a nod, Cassia turned away and headed back to her party, apparently unfazed by the knowledge that her’s would be the first to test what the dungeon had in store.

The next two to pick were the party leaders from Jangar and Hafgufa, both burly looking boys with large weapons slung over their backs. The one from Hafgufa drew the number three paper, while the boy from Jangar seemed content enough to draw the second entry.

Rowan was last, but there was no suspense in the drawing. There was only one piece of paper left in the bag, and everyone knew what was on it. Retrieving it from the sack, he showed Professor Dahlren the number four and received a short nod in return. As he made his way back to the party, the professor looked out over the gathered students.

“Each party will have two hours to clear the dungeon behind me, though for the sake of your grade I urge you to try and complete it in one. Within the dungeon are monsters, traps, and five different hidden treasures. Your performance and the manner in which you deal with each of them will be assessed, and a grade assigned based on that performance and the time it takes you to complete the dungeon,” Dahlren told them. Pausing for a moment, she appeared to consider her next words before speaking.

“I’m sure that Professor Rockriver already covered this with you, but just to make sure. Half your grade will be derived from the speed at which you clear the dungeon, another thirty percent from the formations, tactics, and general manner in which you clear it, and the final twenty percent will be allocated based on how many of the five treasures hidden within the dungeon that you manage to find.” Professor Dahlren paused at this, her sharp eyes scanning the room as she met the eyes of of the gathered students. “Do be careful. I will be watching your progress from this room, which means that if you find yourselves in a dangerous situation, I will be unable to assist. Many students have overstretched themselves in the past with the mistaken belief that a good grade is worth risking their life for. Let me be the first to tell you that that is false. The gods of death care little for the grades you earned here at Faebrook, and death is an automatic failure anyways. With that said, I will be very disappointed if any of you were to fall in today’s exam. Is that clear?”

A muttered affirmative rang out through the room. Not loud, but it was enough for the professor and she flashed them a grim smile. “Good. Miss Laudus’ party will be the first to enter. In the time that they are challenging the dungeon, the rest of you are free to train, hang around, or even return to your beds and sleep.” Professor Dahlren wore an unimpressed look at this, clearly remembering similar situations from the past. “Just be mindful that if you fail to be present when the team before you exits the dungeon, then you will be judged to have missed the exam and your score for the final will be zero. Are there any questions?”

No one raised their hand, and Professor Dahlren continued. “Then I will ask Miss Laudus’ party to come and get ready. You will enter the dungeon as soon as the clock strikes nine.”

There was a small commotion at these words, as the party from Turul moved forward and the other parties began to discuss their plans. For their part, none of Nightshade seemed eager to leave, even if their beds did call longingly to them this early in the morning. Instead, they agreed to lightly train with the dummies off to the side, and revise what they had learned about dungeons one last time before entering. As they made to head for the training dummies, Rowan’s ears couldn’t help but overhear something.

“Why do we have to have this exam last?” Someone off to the side groused. “Should’ve been first, I tell ya…”

Rowan did not respond, but he found himself in total agreement with the person who had made the complaint. Why did they have to do the combat archaeology exam last? They were tired, worn out, and exhausted from a full week of anxiously studying for and writing final exams. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to have it be done before?

Unexpectedly, his question was immediately answered by Professor Dahlren herself. Swooping in, she confronted the original speaker, apparently having overheard what was said from her position on the podium.

“Originally,” Dahlren began, in the same dry manner that she had used to explain slave uprisings in ancient Windia during the semester. “It was the first exam we had students take, because the other professors didn’t want to grade the exams of students who subsequently died in the combat archaeology exam. But we changed that a few decades ago because parents were complaining about how hard it was for their children to write exams with missing limbs. Does that answer your question, young man?”

A muttered affirmation was heard from someone on the other side of the throng of students, and professor Dahlren smiled as she motioned for Cassia’s team to step forward and enter the dungeon.

As the enormous pair of doors opened to admit the Turul party, Rowan along with practically every other student present, strained his neck to get a good look inside. Unfortunately, there was not much to see.

The interior of the dungeon was well lit, with crystal torches embedded in the walls on either side of the entrance. However, all that was illuminated was a passage forward, disappearing into the depths of the subterranean testing zone.

For their part, Cassia’s party did not react much. Unshouldering her weapon, Cassia took the point as they arranged themselves into a swallow’s tail formation, disappearing through the doors which rumbled shut behind them. The exam had begun.

There was not much to do down below the academy, and Nightshade quickly exhausted what little there was. A bit of training helped take the edge off, but no one wanted to tire themselves out before entering the dungeon itself, and Rowan was forced to drag Droon away when he would not stop doggedly practicing his shield bash against the dummies, the first sign of stress that Droon had displayed.

Had they been a more functional party with a normal atmosphere, it was possible that they would have spent the hours talking. But after from a short review of their tactics and formations, that too was exhausted. And so they laid around on the couches and waited, Reinne and Droon on one couch, while Rowan and Morgana both took the opposite ends of another. Morgana would have usually taken a chair, but they ahd all been claimed by the Hafgufa party, who were in the middle of a lively discussion about… something. Rowan could not quite tell what, nor did he care enough to find out.

Up on the podium, Professor Dahlren sat in a chair that she had conjured up, watching a projection of the goings on in the dungeon behind her. Occasionally, she would stop to write notes as Cassia’s party performed some task or another, the sounds of fighting just barely drifting over to where Rowan was seated.

As much as he would have loved to get a look at what was going on on the professor’s projection, Rowan knew better than to risk it. At a minimum, he would likely be kicked out of the exam for doing so, while at worst he might just be expelled outright. He had entered plenty of dungeons this year, there was no need to worry too much about what this one contained.

That worry was tested, however, when after just over an hour of intense boredom and fighting the urge to drift off, Rowan was awakened by the sound of rumbling as the doors at the end of the room began to open. Immediately, all heads turned to watch, curiosity taking over as they waited for the party from Turul to emerge.

And emerge they did. Cassia was first, her armour and hair no longer immaculate. Her left leg dragged behind her, limping slightly as she led the way out of the dungeon. Her lieutenant was next to appear, cradling her right arm as she attempted to keep her back straight in the way noble’s were trained to do.

Behind her, two of her party members supported the third and final member, his face drawn and pale from the loss of the blood which now covered his right side. A large chunk of his right torso was missing, the bandages they had wrapped around it not enough to prevent his clothes and armour from being stained crimson.

The moment they came into view, a golden light washed over them, settling into their wounds. It was particularly concentrated around Cassia’s leg, her lieutenant’s arm, and the injured boy’s torso, and all of their faces regained a bit of colour as the spell took effect.

On the podium, Professor Dahlren cast another spell, this one aimed specifically at the injured boy, before jumping down and directing the party towards the side where two of Faebrook’s healing staff had stood unnoticed until now.

As the party from Turul were whisked away by the healers, Professor Dahlren turned to the leader of the Jangar party. “Mister Khulan, your party may step up to the doors now.”

To their credit, the Jangar fellows did their best to appear unaffected by what they had just seen. Their act was not perfect though, and Rowan could see the fingers of one boy shivering slightly, while their lone girl took three attempts to tug the drawstring of her bag closed.

After a mere five minute delay, the doors reopened, the dungeon ready to accept its next victims. With slightly apprehensive looks, the party from Jangar passed through, intent on defeating the dungeon in a faster time than Cassia’s party had done.

One hour and twenty minutes later, the doors opened once more, spitting out a bloodied and weary group. Gone was the pride of the eastern nobles, replaced only by exhaustion and wounds just starting to fester.

Quick on their feet, the healers whisked them away, and after five minutes, Hafgufa’s party were called to enter the dungeon. As the doors closed behind them, Rowan and the others shared a look, all keenly aware that once the Hafgufans emerged, it would be their turn to enter.

With their turn drawing near, the members of Nightshade busied themselves ensuring that everything was in order for their imminent dungeon run. To one side, Reinne checked her sword, carefully applying oil and wiping it off with a cloth as she ensured that the edge was keen and the blade sharp.

On the other side, Droon’s shield was similarly inspected, while Morgana and Rowan ruffled through their bags, double checking that everything they might need was there. Even after closing the silver clasps, Rowan would reopen them a few minutes later, wanting to ensure that he had not missed something important. He had not. But that did not stop him from checking every few minutes, and nor did it stop Morgana from doing the same thing, the first sign of nerves she had displayed today.

Fifty-three minutes later, the northerners exited the dungeon with their heads held high. Although they were bloodied, their condition was better than either of the two parties before them, and they wore exhausted smiles at the knowledge of a job well done.

Five minutes later, Professor Dahlren looked towards Rowan’s position. “Mister Rowan, please prepare your party to enter the dungeon.”

At those words, Rowan looked to Droon and the girls. None of them were sitting, having stood up the moment the doors had reopened. With a nod to Professor Dahlren, Rowan walked forward, leading the way into the dungeon as the doors slowly ground shut behind them.