After meeting up for lunch, Veil and Melik headed out to attend Ithalaan Academy’s student orientation. Hoards of people were funneling onto the narrow sidewalks from the six story dormitories set on either side of the road and from the branching avenues leading into the campus. Unlike the previous day, the walkways were filled with students, their family members, and professors, all making their way toward Eimen Hall, the location of the first set of talks.

Veil tensed slightly as he and Melik had to slow their pace to avoid running into a group of teenagers in front of them. He glanced in each direction, but a family hemmed them in on one side. Two young blond boys were running circles around their beleaguered parents and sister and screaming at the top of their lungs. Looking to the other side, what looked like a flock of tweed clad professors was shooting annoyed glances toward the children.

Resigned to being hemmed in, Veil examined the cornucopia of humanity and nonhumanity as well. Pale skinned Northerners rubbed shoulders with the somewhat shorter, darker complected Southerners. Like his mother’s people, who emigrated from the continent of Onkara centuries ago, the Southerners tended to have deep brown skin and shiny, black hair. Intermixed with the two kinds of continentals were tall black skinned Islanders.

Veil looked around. There were over a dozen attractive girls in sight, ranging in color, height, and ethnicity. Medina had so much more variety than boring old Cordin.

Veil breathed a sigh of relief as they walked onto a broader avenue, and the stream of people spread out. As gaps opened up between people, Veil glimpsed a Feran Kuin walking along with several briefcase carrying female Professors. The Feran were physically different from humans but were also considered to be humankind’s best allies. Veil had never met one of the reclusive creatures, whose name translated to friends or friends to humanity.

It must be nice to have eight limbs.

Feran were sometimes derogatorily compared to ants. Although in Veil’s opinion, there was nothing particular ant-like about them. As the Feran scuttled along on four legs, he could just make out the creature’s form. Its body was composed of three segments. The rounded, conical head with large eyes and rectangular pupils, below which sat flexible mouths that nevertheless had a somewhat beak-like structure, briefly glanced in his direction and met his eyes before looking away.

Beneath the being’s head was a torso with two sets of arms, upper-arms and true-arms, holding a briefcase, several binders, and multiple leather map cases. The upper map carrying arms looked like its legs, while the briefcase holding true-arms were shorter and thinner. Each hand and leg had three fingers, two of which faced forward and the third pointed backward, acting as an opposable thumb. Running parallel to the ground, the Feran’s last segment had four legs, front and back, that were hinged out to the side and rapidly moving to keep pace with the people around it.

This Feran wore a vest on its upper body and something between a robe and shorts on its lower segment. Compared to an average human being, it was relatively short, only reaching about chest high to the women walking next to it.

Veil had never seen a Feran before and looked forward to meeting one. Their bodies are so different. I wonder if their minds are different as well? He knew they tended to live in their own enclaves within large cities. After a few moments, he lost sight of being and turned his attention to more immediate and exciting things.

“Don’t stare, Veil,” Melik said, nodding toward a beautiful Islander girl with long, tightly braided black hair walking to the right and a half dozen steps in front of them. She was wearing a form-fitting blue dress with red highlights and silver print that did an excellent job of showing off her figure as she swayed along.

Veil looked over at his nervous friend and replied, “I’m just doing my duty as a man and appreciating the wonders of nature.”

Melik turned slightly pink and looked away as if to say, nope, I’m definitely not with him.

Veil turned back around in time to see the girl looking back at him with a small smile. His stomach tensed slightly, but Veil just returned her look, gave her a smile, and nodded slightly. She turned back around, never having broken her stride.

If only the orientation were as interesting as the people? Veil sighed internally. He knew that wasn’t going to be the case.

Once they arrived at the hall, almost half the seats were already taken. Veil swept his eyes over the hundreds of tiered chairs, looking for a place in the back. The friends made their way down scores of steps, each couple of rows a step further down than the last until they were forced to sit in the front section, with the stage only a short distance away.

Veil wondered how he would manage to get his beauty sleep in the no doubt mostly dull and pointless lectures? Regrettably, his fears were fully justified.

“Today, I will be explaining mage ranks and privileges. I know most of you already have this information, but we have many guests and students from across the world, where different systems are employed,” Professor something or other declaimed in a grand voice. “It is vital to know and understand these ranks because each one accords specific privileges. Privileges which we will be enumerating later.”

What about my privilege to take a nap? Veil thought cynically and glanced at Melik. The boy was sitting upright with rapt attention and looked like he wanted to take notes. Why? He, like Veil, must have heard this dozens of times before. Veil sniffed and slumped down in his seat.

“Everyone with some form of magical ability falls somewhere under the mage spheres. At the lowest level, there is the civilian population. Roughly a third of the people in the country of Samiirh can cast a handful of utility spells,” the speaker said, lifting his chin and raising his right hand, palm turned partway to the crowd up to the level of his head. “They are known simply as Civilians.”

Veil shifted in his seat and looked around, but with dimmed lights, it was too dark to see much besides the brightly illuminated lecturer.

“Of those Civilians, about a fourth also have one or more unstructured magical abilities. These Hedgemagi can cast a few spells without verbal or hand gesture components, using instead their mind, mana, and aura alone. Both Civilians and Hedgemagi belong to the level zero sphere. At these preliminary levels, people can’t officially call themselves a mage.” The Professor paused briefly, placing both his hands on the podium.

“At the next level, the learner is legitimately classified as a mage. There are many formal requirements, but it boils down to passing several science and theory tests, performing a half dozen structured spells, and the ability to perceive internal and external mana. Also, the mage must have at least two unstructured magical abilities. These requirements are the same as the basic entrance exam that every student here has already passed. At this level-one sphere, the mage has the rank of Adapt.”

The speaker left the podium and paced back and forth across the stage, locking eyes with individual people from the crowded front ranks. He briefly met Veil’s eyes. Veil guessed it was a good thing that he had managed to stay awake this long.

“The next rank will be of interest to many of the students in the hall tonight, for it exactly mirrors the advanced exam they will take within the next few days. This is where a mage reaches Mage rank, where you will have the title of Mage instead of simply being classified as a mage.”

“And yes, I know that’s confusing. It’s a historical anachronism. A learner must have mastered no fewer than eight unstructured magical skills to qualify for this rank. They must pass more advanced theoretical tests and be able to perform several dozen basic and intermediate spells.” A collective sigh seemed to run through the auditorium.

The young couple in front of Veil put their heads together and began whispering. Why was everyone so worried? Okay, Veil was a little nervous about the upcoming exam as well. Still, making fun of people in his head was one way to distract himself.

“Bear with me a little longer. The next few ranks are much easier to describe. At the E’mage level or expert mage rank, the student merely has to master one or two magical disciplines up to the level of expert.” The speaker smiled slightly at that.

“Archmage is the highest level that most mages can hope to achieve, and even that is incredibly difficult. The mage must master three or more magical disciplines.”

The speaker paused once again and then began to speak gravely, “There is not much known about the rank of Magus. These mages are rare and secretive.”

Veil finally came out of his near coma and focused intently on what the speaker was saying.

“We think there may be between one and two hundred of these magi in the entire world, human and nonhuman alike. A Magus is fundamentally different from an ordinary mage in two ways. They channel energy from the environment instead of having to rely on their personal mana reserves, and this energy takes a highly potent form, known as divine or arcane energy.”

The lecturer paused for a much more extended period and continued in a lighter tone, “And those are the mage ranks – Civilian, Hedgemagi, Adept, Mage, E’mage, Archmage, and Magus.”

***

The rest of that day and the next preceded similarly, heaps of boring information, followed by, aren’t you so lucky to be enrolled in the wonderful, the remarkable Ithalaan Academy, with just enough useful nuggets of information to keep Veil attending, while bored out of his mind.

The two days of orientation had been long and dull, but after having dinner, Melik and Veil were finally back in their room and unwinding when a knock came at the door. Veil looked up, curious, while Melik jumped up quickly as if expecting someone. He opened the door, and in walked a short, black haired Northern boy with glasses.

“Veil, this is Ilya, one of my old friends. He’s starting his first year at Ithalaan just like us,” Melik said, gesturing to the boy.

“Hi Veil,” Ilya said, his intense brown eyes, which were set above a short nose and wide expressive mouth, swept the room inquisitively. Veil nodded back, not moving from his half reclined position on the bed. “I was wondering if you two are going to the orientation dance tonight? It’s a great place to meet people, and there are sure to be a lot of cute girls.”

Melik looked over at Veil, who was still sitting on his bed. “I’m pretty tired after the endless lectures, and Melik and I have to take the advanced entrance exam the day after tomorrow. Plus, we’ve already met hordes of people at all those get to know you functions.”

Ilya looked disappointed at this, but Melik corrected, “We’ve already gone to events where there were a lot of boring, old people, telling us on our bright future is. But, there are going to be girls, at a dance, who are the same age as us!” Melik’s eyes glowed with almost fanatical intensity as he said this.

Veil sniffed with amusement. He knew when he was defeated. “Sure, let’s get cleaned up and go.”

“Do you have a girlfriend, Veil,” Ilya asked on the way to the dance while bouncing along like an eager puppy.

“No,” Veil replied, “I apprenticed under my grandmother, and she kept me working constantly. I really didn’t have time for girls or anything else. What about you, Ilya? Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Yes, I did,” Ilya burst out, “but we’re not together anymore.”

“Holding hands with a girl a couple of times when you were eleven doesn’t count,” Melik countered, half turning toward his friend. “Especially since it was right after a wagon almost ran her over. She was in shock.”

“Yes, it does,” Ilya said, sticking his lower jaw out aggressively. “And it wasn’t just that once either. We held hands a bunch more times.” Ilya and Melik kept arguing the entire way to the dance hall, much to Veil’s amusement.

The dance was held in a large auditorium, with a band set up on a stage and some tables with refreshments set off to the side. Most of the guests were milling about, but a few dozen couples were dancing in the middle of the hall. A virtual menagerie of teenagers desperately trying to impress one another filled the spacious room. The girls went all out wearing beautiful satin and silk dresses, with diamond and gold jewelry practically dripping off them.

And, oh my god, the perfume is enough to stagger a lesser man, Veil thought as a pack of keen-eyed females wandered past.

Some of the boys were just as bad, wearing formal suits and even swords! Veil and his friends, while nicely attired, were positively under-dressed in comparison. Veil thought deeply for a moment, meh, who cares, and then continued following his friends.

The adults congregated off to the side in a protective herd.

Eventually, Melik and Ilya found some people they knew, never having gone anywhere near a female who wasn’t already a friend, let alone asked any to dance. After getting bored listening to Melik, Ilya, and their friends discuss their animal magnetism, Veil wandered off. He mostly just observed the people and enjoyed the music. Some of the dancers were quite good.

Veil turned and saw the Islander girl, who had caught him staring at her the previous day, gazing his way with a mysterious smile. Surprised, Veil started to look down and away, but then turned to fully face her.

He made his way over to her, taking in her tall, hourglass-shaped, long legged body with his peripheral vision. He was trying not to stare. The bust enhancing properties of the purple satin dress she was wearing, didn’t help. The girl turned a little as Veil approached, and he noticed long strategic slits showing off her legs. As he drew closer, he absently observed the two girls engaged in an animated conversation next to her.

Veil stopped within a few feet of the Islander and said, “Hello, my name is Veil, and I couldn’t help but come over here to introduce myself after noticing how lovely you looked.” Veil seemed to casually hold his hands behind his back. In reality, they were slightly clenched. “I was hoping you would tell me your name,” he paused for a fraction of a second, “and introduce me to your friends,” no need to be boorish and ignore them.

The other two girls had turned and were watching both him and the Islander as if they were observing some epic play.

“My name is Sacha,” She replied, still with a slight smile in a soft Islander accent while looking back at him from an attractive, black face with delicate features and full lips. “And this is Yamini and Elynor.” Yamini was short and curvy, and Elynor was tall with black hair.

“How are you finding the dance, and what do you think of our fellow students, Sacha?” Veil asked.

“Well, Veil, I find our fellow students quite colorful,” Sacha replied, putting light emphasis on his name as if savoring the sound while looking Veil directly in the eyes. “I scarcely know where to rest my eyes. As for the dance, I would be enjoying it more if I were actually dancing.”

“As a gentleman, I feel honor-bound to assist you in your enjoyment. Would you care to dance with me?” Veil asked.

Sacha gave him a smile that made her earlier effort pale in comparison, “Why yes, I would.”

Veil offered Sacha his arm and escorted her to the dance floor. Fortunately, his hands had stopped shaking almost as soon as he started talking. Once on the floor, they came together into a slow rhythmic waltz, with one of Sacha’s arms resting comfortably across his shoulders while her other hand held his. A small space was kept between them. Sacha was somewhat taller than him, but not so much as to make dancing awkward.

They made small talk, exchanging information about what they were going to study and occasionally making fun of their fellow students. They didn’t notice how much time was passing until half a dozen musical numbers had passed, automatically adjusting their rhythm for each set. The first few pieces were slow traditional waltzes, their beats mellow and measured, while the final selection was composed of faster paced, more modern music. Light flutes could be heard weaving through the stringed instruments.

After dancing, they went for some refreshments. Sacha’s two friends were missing, and Veil noted her complete lack of concern. They had both gotten drinks and were half facing each other and half watching the dancers. Sacha held the glass in front of her lips, taking the occasional slow while looking over the rim at Veil.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Veil requested.

“Sure, if I can ask you some in turn,” Sacha replied after placing her drink on the table.

“How does an Islander girl end up with a name like Sacha?” Veil inquired.

“How does an Onkara boy end up with a name like Veil?” Sacha shot straight back at him.

Veil smiled. The girl definitely had a bit of an attitude.

“My mother,” Veil explained. “When I was very young, two or three, I liked to sneak around in this short hooded cloak my grandmother gave me. This annoyed my mother both because it was a gift from my grandmother and because I would often hide from her. She tried to get me to stop wearing it by comparing it to a lady’s veil, which had no effect, either because I was too stubborn or too young to care. My mother’s narrative tends to vary depending on how annoyed she is with me at the time. This morphed into her and the rest of the family calling me Veil. So, what’s your story?”

While Veil was talking, Sacha absently reached up and touched a gold pendant with a small ruby stone. Funny, Veil hadn’t noticed it until now.

“My story is simple,” Sacha replied. “I was an accident produced by a very short fling my mother had.”

Veil winced.

“It’s fine,” Sacha replied, smoothing the front of her dress. “I don’t know how much you know about Carakan Island culture, but we don’t practice monogamy, and thus there is no shame in a woman getting pregnant out of wedlock. Anyway, my mother met my adoptive father while pregnant, and he was a Northerner. So, they gave me a Northerner’s name.”

“As far as I’m concerned, everything worked out perfectly,” Sacha said while holding her pendant. “My father and I have a great relationship.”

“You’re doing better than I am then,” Veil replied. He was going to say more, but they were interrupted.

“Pardon me,” a strangely pitched voice said. Looking over, they saw a Feran Kuin. “My name is Charik’tah’ziith, and I was hoping for a moment of your time. I would not normally interrupt, but I need the assistance of students who are taking the advanced placement exam, and I must leave for an appointment in the next few minutes.”

Veil and Sacha shared a glance. They hadn’t even spoken about the exam with each other, so how did the Feran Kuin know their status?

“All Feran Kuin are capable of reading aura’s,” Charik’tah’ziith remarked, correctly interpreting their confusion, “and from the strength of yours, it is obvious that each of your cores has condensed to the liquid stage.”

I’m Jai Silva, and this is Sacha...,” Veil hesitated, realizing that he didn’t know Sacha’s surname.

“My name is Sacha Korova,” Sacha said, “and we would be happy to help.”

Sure, I’ll be happy to play along, Veil thought and glanced at Sacha. He was amused that she would speak for him. But other than meeting her, this was the most exciting thing that happened all day.

“Excellent,” Charik’tah’ziith said, reaching into a leather bag and handing a palm-sized, multicolored faceted cube to Veil and a silvery orb to Sacha.

“Each face has three rows and three columns,” The Feran said. Veil turned it in his hands, seeing that each side of the cube had nine colored squares. “Each of which can be rotated independently horizontally or vertically while directing your mana along the edges. Running mana along the perimeter unlocks the cube’s axes. The goal is to revolve each row or column until all six sides of the hexagon are mono-colored.”

Veil directed mana along the cube’s edge while trying to twist one row around the cube’s axes. The item wouldn’t budge. Trying again, Veil watched the mana sent from his hands to the object’s outer perimeter immediately disperse across the entire surface. He twisted hard, but brute force didn’t help. While Veil was working, he absently noted the Feran, explaining how the orb worked to Sacha.

Making the third attempt, Veil took a deep breath, then reached out, creating a tunnel of intent around the cube’s edges, and used all his telekinetic talent to keep the mana in the appropriate channels. The item’s axes were released. Finally able to rotate the hexagonal object, he engaged the mental disciplines of Visualization and Hyper-Focus.

A fully realized image of the object appeared in his mind, and he mentally revolved the cube, running through hundreds of different combinations in seconds. Engaging Symbolic Calculate allowed him to represent the rotations with mathematical formulas. Then he quickly solved the simple equations yielding the correct sequence of moves to produce a cube where each side was mono-colored.

Veil looked up a few moments later, cube in hand, not sure how much time had passed. Sacha was already finished. Veil narrowed his eyes in thought before handing his puzzle, for that was surely what it was, back to the Feran Kuin. Did Sacha have a bloodline power, or was her puzzle simply easier than his?

Before they could ask any questions, the Feran Kuin thanked them and quickly left.

“Were we just tested?” Sacha asked in a wondering tone. “Why?”

“I have no idea,” Veil replied, feeling a little uneasy. He didn’t like not knowing what others wanted.

“I’ve never met a Feran Kuin before, and I don’t claim to understand them,” Veil added. “All I know is that they are descended from octopi and not land animals. Do you know any more, Sacha?”

“They have allied with the human race for eons,” The girl replied, tilting her head to the side. “Other than that, no, I don’t know anything more.”

***

Veil had one day off before the exam started, and he decided to take this opportunity to connect with his grandmother’s second contact. Early that morning, he made the short walk from his dorm room to the clinic that Indali Varma partially owned. The mostly empty warm sunlit pathways helped to clear and focus his mind.

The clinic, a three-story affair, sat in a relatively upscale part of the city. Several dozen doctors, alchemists, and support staff worked there.

Veil was currently sitting in the well-appointed reception room across from a secretary seated behind an enormous mahogany desk.

A short, fit, curvy woman with long braided black hair, brown skin, bold features, and almond-shaped eyes walked out and spoke briefly with the receptionist. She was wearing the silver-trimmed, pale blue pants and top of a medical mage.

Turning to Veil, she gave him a friendly smile and said, “Hello, I’m Indali Varma. You must be Der’Jai Silva.”

After Veil stood and nodded, Indali continued, “Please follow me, and we can speak in my office.”

On the way to her workplace, Veil noticed that she moved with remarkable grace for a short woman, as if she were a dancer or martial arts expert.

Once they were seated across from each other, she began, “I understand that you prefer to be called Veil, is that correct? And that you wish to study medical magic?”

“Yes, on both counts Dr. Varma,” Veil replied, taking a chair opposite her.

“Medical magic is a difficult subject,” Dr. Varma said. “It takes great dedication. Are you prepared for that?”

“While I will also be studying several subjects at Ithalaan, I can devote most weekends as well as several afternoons during the week for medical training,” Veil replied, looking Dr. Varma in the eye. “I’m already good enough at alchemy to take Ithalaan’s advanced certification. That should be of benefit to the clinic. My grandmother may also have mentioned that I spent several years volunteering at the local clinic in Cordin. I received some triage training there.”

“What subjects do you intend to study?” Dr. Varma asked, resting her forearms and folding her hands on the desk. “Medical magic is a demanding field, and your studies could help advance or detract from that effort. Although alchemy is an excellent start.”

Veil noticed that her eyes became slightly more intent and probing as she said this.

“I intend to concentrate on technomagic, divination, and unstructured magic,” Veil replied. “I’m already pretty good at divination.”

Dr. Varma continued questioning his skills for quite some time and even made a few queries about his family life and grandmother before sitting back with a thoughtful look.

After a moment, she said, “I believe you would make a valuable addition to the staff, but there are a few more delicate questions I would like to ask. Would you mind if I set up some privacy wards?”

At Veil’s acquiescence, she touched a device on the desk to initiate the wards. Sitting up straight in his chair, Veil focused his attention on the discussion. He knew they were just coming to the important part.

Leaning forward slightly, Dr. Varma carefully stated, “your grandmother led me to believe that your interests might go slightly beyond medical magic?”

Veil sensed that Dr. Varma wanted him to make the first step.

“Yes, I would like to learn to bind magical abilities into my bloodline.” Veil paused and seeing that Dr. Varma was going to wait until he continued. “I wish to learn soul magic, with an emphasis on the sub-discipline of foundation magic.”

There, he stated it boldly.

This moment was what they had both spent the last hour carefully building up to, each weighing and measuring the other in turn.

“I would not normally ask this, but if you are to be my student, I must know,” Dr. Varma said. “You intend to augment your powers with a second magical core, don’t you? That is your reason for learning medical magic?”

“Yes, it’s one of them,” Veil replied, giving no further information on the subject.

He wanted to acquire a set of powers like the instinctive regeneration abilities of a troll or the ability to manipulate the earth like a wyrm without having to rely on formal spell casting. The power of every noble house was based in part around some type of bloodline power.

They stared at each other for several very long moments until Dr. Varma finally said, “Good, it seems you understand the need for discretion. Remember that foundation magic is illegal, and those caught using it are punished quite severely.”

“Your grandmother also mentioned that you have, as she stated, ‘certain experiences in these exotic forms of magic,’ meaning soul magic, is that correct.”

Veil simply nodded affirmatively.

“Alright, you are now my student in both arts. Due to the inherent danger involved when we perform a foundation magic ritual, we will need to take precautions. I will go over those with you later before our first ritual.”

Veil was now a soul magic disciple.

***

Later that day, Melik and Veil prepared for the advanced entrance exam in their own unique way. Veil was lying back in his bed, half propped up against the pillows, which were braced against the wall. His legs were crossed with one foot idly kicking the air. The creamy texture and woody smell of the book relaxed him as he waited.

There was no point in worrying about the exam. If the last seven years of his life weren’t preparation enough, a few more hours would make no difference.

Melik was currently focusing on unstructured telekinesis. A spoon smoothly rose into the air and slowly floated around the room as the boy sat in complete motionless silence. It then drifted directly in front of him, stopped moving, and started to spin.

That was a pretty impressive unstructured telekinetic for someone their age. Veil mentioned several times that he didn’t think Melik needed to worry, but this did not seem to reassure the boy.

The next morning their grueling test schedule began. Over four mornings, they, along with hundreds of others, would sit for theoretical tests covering mundane as well as magical subjects. Every student was mandated to have a basic grounding in the history and laws governing arcane manipulation, advanced mathematics, and the sciences.

They were also tested on their theoretical grasp of the core magical disciplines of Divination, Conversion, Alchemy, Enchantment, Conjuring, Transformation, Warding, and Combat Magic. The afternoons were filled with the practical tests covering these essential disciplines.

Veil had no difficulty with the theoretical tests, but in the final two days, a few of the practical trials presented some unexpected challenges.

On the morning of the third day, he walked into a small classroom to take his divination test, only to find two individuals already present instead of a single proctor. One was a human who introduced himself as Professor Isa, and the other was a Feran Kuin who sat far back in the room and remained silent.

It was hard for Veil to be sure, but he thought it might be the Feran he met during the dance the previous week. The room itself was cluttered with tables, bookshelves, cabinets, and a few small desks, as well as a large table sitting directly in front of Professor Isa with several objects resting on it.

Checking a list, Isa stated, “You are Der’Jai Silva.”

Clearly tired after what had been several long days and not waiting for a reply, Isa immediately continued, “Somewhere hidden in this room is a round yellow ball, the exact copy of which sits on the table to your left. You can use whatever divination spell you like to find it.”

Sitting back and crossing his arms, Isa waited expectantly.

Veil walked up to the yellow ball and began the invocation in the most common language of magic, High Iskandian, “I create an interactive seeking spell. The command structure responds to my orders. Seeking tendrils attach to the core, ready to stretch forth to examine the focus and find its duplicate.”

While Veil was speaking, his mana flowed out from his core and interwove with the verbal commands. Simultaneously, he expelled more energy into his hands and made several intricate gestures using his auric field to outline a multilayered cylindrical shape. Veil saw these two energies meeting and interlocking in his mind’s eye. The mana formed a horizontal disc-like structure with the command spell at the center and thousands of seeking tendrils at the periphery.

He then reached out, placing his hand on the command center. Then mentally directed one tendril to connect with the ball’s copy. The other threads reached out in every direction before the spell seemed to collapse, and a green strand appeared. The line only visible to him or someone using mana sight stretched from the yellow ball to a cabinet across the room. Veil walked over to the cabinet, opened it, and took out the second ball, holding it up for Isa to see.

The Professor glanced at the Feran Kuin briefly before stating, “It’s been a long day, and you seem competent, let’s skip to the final part of the test?” the Professor half questioned, half stated.

“Fine with me, Professor,” Veil said, addressing the Professor for the first time.

Isa nodded and immediately pointed to an opaque cubical container, “Without touching it, please identify the purpose and origin of this device.”

Veil began casting spells but immediately noticed the box was warded against divination. That made things challenging. He ended up invoking arcana after arcana to no effect. Feeling frustrated, Veil resorted to using the most advanced divination spell he knew, which produced a complicated squid-like structure.

Grabbing the mana construct’s arms directly with unstructured telekinesis, he guided the squid-spell’s arms between the minute gaps in the cubes warding defenses. The magic released and, information flooded his mind.

“It’s a small technomagic lamp that was made somewhere in the city of Medina,” Veil stated.

“Congratulations, you passed the test,” Isa stated slowly. “Actually, you exceeded the test requirements by quite some margin. That last problem is one we only give to our most advanced students.”

Veil stared stoically at the Professor, feeling as if he had been tricked in some fashion.

“You’re remarkably good at amorphous telekinesis, and you just demonstrated skill in some highly advanced spells for someone your age,” Isa remarked casually but with slightly narrowed eyes.”

Oh shit. Thinking fast, Veil replied with a smile while lying through his teeth, “My grandmother is an expert in divination as well as alchemy, and I apprenticed under her for seven years.”

The practical examiner relaxed slightly, “That makes sense. We’re all finished here. You passed this part of the exam and can go relax for a while before your next practical.”

After directing a final glance at the still silent Feran, Veil said, “Thanks.” He quickly exited the hall, walking casually out to the plaza, and sat on one of the many metal benches. He forced his hands, which were clenched inside his pockets to release, and breathed deeply, trying to calm himself.

Veil remembered a conversation he had with his grandmother years ago. They were seated in her lab, waiting for some alchemical recipe to catalyze. Katya, an athletically attractive, well preserved, black-haired woman with high cheekbones and slightly slanted eyes, was sitting with her usual relaxed but focused posture. She appeared to be about 45 years old rather than her real 112 years.

“Veil,” She said with authority, “you must never reveal your psychic abilities, at least not until you are a powerful and well-connected mage.”

“Why,” Veil replied, puzzled. “Aren’t psychic powers thought to be latent in all people, and one of the most common magical gifts? Isn’t having these abilities perfectly legal?”

“Yes,” She replied, staring intently at him, “to all of your questions. But the ability to read thoughts, to mess with someone’s head in some fashion terrifies some people and will be seen as an opportunity to make use of you by others.”

“It’s all well and good to admit having that kind of skill if you are a powerful, well-established person or if you come from a noble family that can protect you, Veil. If you aren’t any of those things, well, admitting to mind powers will draw all the wrong sorts of attention, and at best, complicate your life immensely. You could also find yourself forced into military or government service.”

“Remember,” She continued, “the most common signs of psychic gifts are advanced skills in unstructured telepathy, unstructured telekinesis, and being too good at divination because it relies on a person’s internal mind powers.”

“The way to avoid notice is simple, don’t use amorphous telepathy on anything but animals, and only show a portion of your unstructured telekinetic skills. And, easiest of all, don’t blather on about how good you are at building internal mental abilities like Memory, Visualization, Parallel Thought, or any of the others.”

Veil’s thoughts returned to the present as he realized how close he had just come. His grandmother was not psychic, nor were any other family members. The ability was often passed down in family lines but had skipped a generation, and she only had modest skills in divination.

Veil sighed while leaving the plaza. He really had to be more careful.

It was almost over. He only needed to take two simple tests. The first assessment measured Veil’s mana density to make sure it had condensed to the liquid phase in his core and bones, the locations where a mage stored most of their mana. The second test measured his total mana reserve. Veil stood waiting patiently while the proctor looked through his notes before finally looking up.

“Der’Jai Silva?” The proctor asked.

“Yes,” Veil replied, still wary from yesterday’s close call.

“Just sit there and relax. This will only take a moment,” the proctor stated, picking up a modestly-sized device with a number of dials and gauges on the surface. The instructor examined and then pointed the instrument in Veil’s direction and played with dials for a few moments. “All right, you are free to go.”

“Uhm…,” Veil started to say.

“You passed. Your mana has reached liquid density, with a total mana reserve of about 34,” the proctor said impatiently, waving him away.

Well, that was both relieving and underwhelming at the same time, Veil thought as he walked back to the dorm to rest and relax. His mana reserves were extraordinarily average. What can he do about that?

Melik showed up an hour or so later, appearing jubilant after returning from his exam.

“I passed,” Melik practically shouted as he barged into the room. “It’s a probationary pass, and I have to take a few review classes, but I get to skip the first three years of basic studies.”

Melik paced back and forth as he went over the last day’s details, remarking on the basic classes he would have to take. Veil, who sat cross legged on the bed, nodded along at appropriate intervals.

After a few moments, Melik finally wound down as he sat in a nearby chair and remarked, “What’s wrong? I know you passed!”

“I found out my mana reserves are only 34,” Veil replied pensively.

“What’s wrong with that? Mine are 38? We’re both within the average for mages at the liquid core range, between 25 and 40,” Melik remarked. “Were you hoping to be one of the powerhouses at 90?”

“I was hoping to be above average,” Veil replied, lightly squeezing his knees. “Our mana reserves will only increase a total of six more times at most, even when our core’s density increases to the solid, liquid crystal phase. We won’t be able to cast the most powerful spells.”

“Besides a few overpowered battle magic spells, there just isn’t much arcana that takes that much power,” Melik replied. “And the few spells that do, outside of battle magic, can be cast as group rituals.”

“True,” Veil said, staring up and to the left for a moment. “There are always workarounds.”

“So,” Melik said, changing the subject, “Do you want to go to any of the parties tonight.”

“No,” Veil replied, sitting up straighter, “I want to go to all of the parties tonight. Besides, I already promised Sacha I would go with her, and she’ll bring her cute friends Yamini and Elynor, so you should invite Ilya along.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Melik said, a giant grin on his face.