The last thing Barlor remembered before the world went dark was a brilliant light. He didn't sleep well over the course of the next few hours; drifting in and out of sleep, tossing and turning. There were faces, people in black robes, something about an examination, then darkness again. It was his body that awoke before his mind did. He started out of bed and reached for something nearby without thinking. After a few seconds of searching he found something, the handle of a dagger. He grabbed on and held it tight. He sat still for a while, as his mind cleared and his breathing calmed.

He remembered where he was, and opened his eyes slowly. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a tall man in black robes. He stood back, his arms at the ready and his eyes wide in alarm.

“Do you remember where you are?” He asked

“The… Academy. I was in class with Mr. Allenbury when something knocked me out.”

“That is correct.” He dropped his guard and visibly relaxed. “So perhaps it would be wise if you were to let go of your weapon.”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry ‘bout that.” Barlor reluctantly let go of the dagger. “So where are we exactly?”

“Don't you remember we’re at th-” He stopped himself mid sentence. “Ah, I suppose you mean this room specifically. Welcome to the infirmary. I suspect you’ll become rather familiar with this place as time goes on.”

A hint of nervousness crept into Barlor’s voice. “What?”

“I just mean that there were some awfully stringent requirements as well as some oddly specific ones, and I doubt they pay me so much to sit around and do nothing.” He gestured across the room. There were stone beds in rows, most of them with only a pillow for comfort, and some of them occupied. Beside each of them was a small table, also made from stone, and enough space to comfortably move between them all. The walls were bare and windowless, but the space was well lit. Barlor was beginning to suspect that the infirmary was completely underground. In fact, he was almost certain that the majority of the building was actually built underground. “Besides I've had such a busy week already. I can only imagine what the rest of the year will be like.”

“Haha.” Barlor forced a laugh, and poorly at that. “Who knows, It’s only the first week after all. I bet after this you’ll be spending most of your time slacking off.”

“Hopeful aren't you.”

“Just a little bit.”

“Well, aside from ensuring that you were doing well I was told that you’d just arrived today. Is that true?”

“Yep.”

“Good, because I’ve been assigned to inform you of some things that you might’ve missed the first day around since Mr. Allenbury neglected to do so himself.”

“Alright then… I'm listening.” Barlor leaned in a little closer.

“Your room is down on the third level of the Academy on the Eastern Wing. Your room is number 345.” He reached inside his robe and gave him a slip of paper as well as a key. “There are maps in the central lobby of every floor. Be forewarned it’s easy to get lost so I recommend you focus on finding your room first before you go about exploring the premises. Ask a staff member if you must.”

Barlor tilted his head. “What’s a central lobby? Where is it? Actually better yet, how do I find it? What’s it for?

“Calm down, It’s right outside, and they’re mostly just big circular rooms that help you navigate the area.”

“Alright…”

“You’ll see what I mean.”

“Any other vital pieces of information that Mr. Allenbury didn't tell us?”

“You’ll be attending Basic for the next twenty seven days. From seven in the morning to eight-fifty in the afternoon. With an hour break in between for lunch. That means you’ll be seeing more of Mr. Allenbury and his gym for the foreseeable future.”

“What?!"

“I know it sounds bad, but it’s only for the month.”

“Still! That’s about thirteen hours of class every day for a month!”

He raised an eyebrow at him. “Did you have any other plans?”

“Well no but, that doesn't make it any less crazy.”

“If it makes you feel better you’ll be able to pick your classes afterwards, and they won't last nearly as long; about 7 hours in total I think.”

Barlor glanced at the clock. “Does that mean class is still going on right now?”

“No. There was no class on the first day, and these last couple days only lasted for about six hours. Unfortunately for you, that ends today. So it’s the full thirteen hours from here on out.”

Barlor put his head in his hands and sighed. “Just my luck.” He looked up. “Other schools, do they do this too?”

He took a seat on one of the empty infirmary beds just across from him. “Not that I'm aware of. Only other school I've operated in was Lux, and they aren't near as brutal. I doubt the ISE is willing to even challenge their students, the UCL doesn't really teach that way from what I’ve heard, and the Archive? Who even knows what they’re up to.”

“Then why do we have to take a basic, introductory class for thirteen hours, every day, for a month?”

“Likely because the founder was very insistent on the fundamentals. It’s even in the name. It’s The Academy of Arcane Core Teachings after all. Sensible move too given that we take anyone and everyone with magical potential, so we need some way of rooting out those who aren't even worth teaching.”

Barlor went slack as he accepted his fate. He then straightened his back and took a deep breath. “As much as I hate to admit it. That makes a lot of sense, and I guess I’ll have to suck it up if I want to prove that I can make it here.” He looked the man in the eyes. “On the other hand, there are a lot more schools than I was expecting, how?”

He saw the curiosity in eyes. “There are many countries in the world.”

“Yeah, but still. How could there possibly be that many countries with Mage Academies? I thought there were special conditions surrounding the founding of ours?”

“You know about that?” He raised an eyebrow.

Barlor immediately began stuttering, tripping over his words and falling over them just to try and explain how he knew. He was of course, lying, but the surprise caught him badly. He was usually better about he used his words.

“No, no. Calm down. You’re fine.”

Barlor sealed his lips.

“It’s not really a secret so you haven't done anything wrong per se. Too many people already know, and there’s too much going on around it to keep this school’s ‘secret’ hidden. Rather, it’s just not common knowledge, and it's surprising that you know.”

“Thank the gods.” Barlor breathed a sigh of relief.

“Though you clearly thought it was a secret. So perhaps you should endeavor to take more care with your words.” He wore a small grin his face. Barlor was starting to get sick of grins.

“I'll try.” Barlor smiled right back.

“Well. I hope I've answered your questions.” He stood up.

“Wait, no. You haven't answered my question.”

“Haven't I?”

“Nope.”

The man sighed. “Persistent, aren't you?”

“Well?” Barlor leaned back.

“I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. I hope you’re not much of a patriot.”

“Not really.” He was listening intently now. Careful to pick apart every word, and then he remembered his journal. A gift to him by his brothers, and the perfect way to record information.

“Excellent. That’ll make this revelation easier to swallow. Let me put it this way, your country isn't even close to being a global contender.”

“That doesn't explain-”

“Ah.” He held out a finger and took a very deep breath. “Let me try to put this into perspective. To the Emperors and Senators of the national superpowers, your king, and many others, are poor men in a fancy bathrobe. This academy may seem impressive to you, but it pales in comparison to the others. It's an attempt to bridge the gap, because politics is what keeps you independent, but it won't do forever. However, if this academy consistently churns out the best of the best, and that’s what the expulsions are for, then there might be reason to leave you out of any future conflict. The Academy lets anyone and everyone into its halls regardless of affiliation or social standing, unlike all others, but only the best are allowed to leave. And, if someone noteworthy doesn't make the cut, they’ll probably be qualified for one of the other mage academies. Or even a guild or apprenticeship with someone else. That means fresh faces, and that means real talent. Something that mage society’s been needing more of. At least, that’s the goal.”

Barlor had no reason to put any real faith in his country so he was quick to get his hopes up, but he had to remain skeptical. It was a little too much.

“And you’re allowed to be telling me this?”

“Censorship laws in your country have been almost completely removed in this area.” He scanned the area to check if any of the students had stirred from their unconscious state.

“What?”

“I can say and write almost anything here without getting executed for it.”

Indeed one of the students was beggining to wake up.

“What about-”

“Unfortunately I have work to do. I'm aware you have questions so I’ll advise you to visit the library. The censorship laws I mentioned apply to books they’ll have answers to your questions. I’d encourage you to keep asking questions.” He looked Barlor dead in the eyes. “I’ve got a job to do so let's wrap this up with haste.”

“Wait-”

“Any symptoms?”

“Wha-”

“Pains, aches, nausea, feel anything strange?”

“My head hurts a bit.”

“Scale of one to ten. How much does it hurt?”

“What does that-”

“A one would be a slight stinging, like being pricked by a rose thorn. A ten would equate to be stabbed repeatedly with a rusty knife.”

“I still, uh - three?”

He reached into his robes; pulling out a small vial containing a clear red liquid and a thin stick. He held dipped it in the bottle and held it out to him.

“Smell this.”

“No I think I'll be fine.”

“Headaches are a mages worst nightmare. We’ve got plenty of these in stock.” He pushed the stick a little closer. The top was stained with the red liquid.

“Alright then. If you say so.” He leaned in and sniffed.

It was terrible. Like vinegar mixed with piss. It felt like someone threw saltwater in his nose.

“That is… a smell.” He wondered if sticking with the headache would've been a smarter idea.

He held it up and ignited the stick, burning it to a crisp instantaneously. “You’ll thank me later. Remember there are maps outside in the central lobby.”

“Got it.” Barlor stood up carefully. Indeed his growing headache already began to fade.

“Take your things with you.”

“Oh! Almost forgot.” His clothing hadn't changed but his robes were folded up neatly on the table. His mask and dagger were there too, his journal was probably still in the robes.

“I’ll be off now. Good luck.”

“You too.” Barlor hastily slipped on the robes. There was a wooden door to his left. The word exit was carved in above.

He opened the door first before walking through it. Looking through he realized what the man was talking about. It was a massive circular room built mostly from marble. The floors were tiled in diamond patterns and the ceiling was supported by a number of pillars and braces carved to look both elegant and opulent. On the walls were grey banners bearing the symbol of the pheonix painted in red, at the top of the banners the number one was written and at the center of the rooms a massive stair case that presumably lead to other floors. He stepped out of the door and found himself lost, and it seemed that he was the only one. The only one in the central lobby at least.

Everyone else seemed to have at least a general idea of what they were doing. They’d had three days to familiarize themselves with the area and they probably visited the exact same places over the course of the last few days. What few students were present were either hanging about the benches spaced throughout the room or on their way to somewhere else. There were four massive archways present in the room, each of them with equally large dark wooden doors with intricate golden decorations laced throughout. All of them were open of course, no one could reasonably even attempt to budge them from their place. Staff members in black clothing outnumbered the students here. Some ran about carrying stacks of paper, others held tools and equipment used for gardening or repair. It was this that reminded him of the link stone. He looked frantically through his robes in search of the flat stone. Thankfully it was still there, and it hadn't so much as chipped. Whatever happened to it happened to the others, and if there was any damage on Mr. Jamison’s link stone it might’ve looked foreboding. He needed some way of actually writing on it. It was his only method of warning Mr. Jamison if he spotted something strange. Unfortunately he had nothing to carve into it with.

What shame. He thought it’d be at least another week before he stole something again. Not that he minded much, he wanted to take a look around the school anyways. Plus, he was in a good mood today, it seemed that not every country was nearly as dull as his. Long as he made it through the academy he could go exploring. If he made it through. The mere thought of getting expelled made his head feel light and his stomach queasy again. He found himself holding on to the mask at his waist again before he calmed down. There were times in his life where he could've been sent to prison and stayed perfectly calm, but just the thought of getting expelled from school made him nauseous. It was this reflection that lead to an unfortunate conclusion; he really needed to get his act together, or he wouldn't stand a chance. He felt himself getting anxious all over again.

Damn it.