“...you didn’t know?” Avaim asked, astonished.

Shaya blinked, biting back a flood of curses at not realizing she could defer exams. “It’s fine, we’re almost through this, my body will hold together. Ready to get back into character?”

Avaim sighed, “Alright, if you’re sure.”

Shaya straightened, holding out her hand to the once again trembling Avaim, “The Gods will get us through this, are you with me citizen?”

Avaim stifled most of a chuckle and an eye roll, then nodded, taking her hand.

With a deep breath, she rushed through the door and into an open yard. A dozen imps cackled all around her, flitting through the air and hurling small orbs of fire at her and Avaim. On the ground, a dozen small raptors issued low squawks and leapt with tiny talons outstretched.

Gold light flared red as fire splashed against one of her wards and more light flared green as the raptors bounced off, parts of their brightly coloured plumage sizzling as the ward ate away at them. Formed of aether and given life on the material plane, the wards rejected them, but wards couldn’t be used to crush or slam opposing energies.

Shaya was forced to move slowly, only stepping forward when doing so wouldn’t allow her ward to pass over one of the conjured creatures and let them inside her defenses. It was a delicate balance that strained her mind and her spirit, resisting the pressure to move as quickly as the swarm of creatures battered against her wards. The cacophony of cackling and shrieking and squawking and sizzling was almost too much, fraying her sanity and threatening to break her concentration on the spells keeping them alive.

Without the Jade aether in her system to keep her rooted in the moment, the overwhelming sensations around her pushed her anxiety into a spiral. But she caught herself with a deep breath and stopped the Amber from crumbling away from her. She focused on the future she wanted to build and the hope she held that she would succeed in doing so, and drew in more Amber to keep her spells fueled.

The conjured critters all around her couldn’t break her wards.

Their bark was worse than their bite, but only if she allowed it to be.

She let the cacophony wash over her, narrowing her eyes as she concentrated on the position of the dozens of creatures around her and timing her steps to keep advancing.

Shaya breathed a sigh of relief a minute later when she made it across the fenced in yard and into the next building, slamming the door behind her with immense satisfaction. The building was empty and she focused on her breathing as they walked across it. She didn’t hear any more noises beyond the exit, didn’t see any more espers, or dowse any more active spell circuits.

Maybe it’s over.

“We’ll be safe soon,” she said to Avaim, hoping her heroic veneer was still holding strong, “stay close, no sense taking risks now.”

She dropped her wards to keep her spirit open for new spells, if needed, eyes still radiating gold light. With another calming breath, she opened the final door and walked out.

Basillo stood several meters away from her, hands crossed behind his back. She almost breathed a sigh of relief as she walked towards him, but the hair on the back of her neck stood upright. Something about his posture and expression seemed off to her.

“Phaedra! Shield me from Amber!” She invoked, throwing up her hand and hoping she could form the circuit fast enough.

Basillo was faster – of course – javelins of pure light forming over his shoulders and launching towards her. She watched the javelins streak towards her as a blur, one after another, and pushed Avaim behind her in case she wasn’t fast enough.

Shaya wasn’t as familiar with the Amber wards, but her recent practice for her duel against Azreon made the difference.

A golden shield erupted in front of her just in time to intercept the first javelin, the ward splintering under the initial impact. In the heartbeat before the second javelin hit, she was already tracing the same circuit again, prepared to replace her first aegis when it fell. It shattered and part of the second javelin punched through, Shaya forced to block it with a forearm.

She bit back a shout as it slashed across her like jagged, broken glass, but she managed to stop it from hitting Avaim and kept a hold on her next spell. Another aegis appeared over her shredded arm as she continued to walk forward, just barely catching the third javelin. She projected the aegis ahead of her a few feet and angled it, watching it shatter against the fourth javelin, but this time deflecting the remaining parts of the spell away from her.

Basillo wasn’t finished with her, though, and a wall of light sprang up into the air before her and then surged forward. Without time to erect a ward – and knowing no ward she erected could contest Basillo’s power directly - she spun and hugged Avaim, then dived to the side. The wall rushed past them and exploded against the building they had just left, the ground shaking from the impact and the stone building cracking from the assault.

Shaya gasped from the dirt digging into her injured arm, but was already forming another aegis to defend against Basillo’s follow up. She pushed herself up onto one arm, keeping her body between Basillo’s last known location and Avaim, but was surprised to see Basillo standing over her, one hand extended.

“Congratulations, recruit,” he said, with the faintest register of a smile on his stony face, “it’s over.”

Tentatively, she accepted his hand up, ready to punch him in the throat if it proved to be a trick. But this time, it wasn’t.

“Well done,” he said, sounding less pained than the last time he had complimented her, “even Azreon was caught off-guard and slow to raise any Amber wards.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, suddenly grateful for her stupid duel against Azreon in a few days, “I believe in a well-rounded education, and never trusting something too good to be true.”

Basillo snorted, “That helped too, no doubt.”

“Zaal’s wrong,” she blurted as a thought slammed into her, her weary mind unable to contain it.

Basillo cocked an eyebrow at her, “I don’t disagree, but you’ll have to be more specific.”

“He, and probably too many others, think that Amber mages are stupid or dull,” Shaya continued, looking back at the carnage she had just raced through, “but they’re very mistaken. We’re not just meat shields, it takes a lot of skill and effort to know what to prioritize and how to move in combat, with split-second decisions meaning the difference between life and death on a... large scale.”

“You just noticed?” Basillo snorted, but he looked down at her sympathetically as the sudden realization of her responsibilities – and their difficulties – bore down on her, “Go get your injuries seen to, recruit, I need to go ambush the next student nearing the finish line.”

Avaim pulled out a white flag and held it over his head as they walked back through the warzone. A few of the mages Shaya had assaulted shot her dirty looks, though more of them actually seemed to respect her for how she handled the scenario. Avaim cast healing spells on her as they walked back, re-sealing her injuries. Once again covered in freshly healed tan skin, Shaya idly wondered what the Empire and Academy would do if they suffered from a shortage of Jade mages to heal its students and warriors from the sadism they were put through routinely.

“You did well,” Avaim said, patting her on the shoulder, “you definitely got some of those bonus marks that the TA mentioned before you started, though you probably could have slowed down just a little...”

“Thanks,” she replied, exhaustion bearing down at her as her body once again drew from future reserves to mend itself, “Without knowing if the time trial was scored competitively against other students or by broader windows of time, I didn’t want to risk it. Especially in the beginning, when I really underestimated how much of an endurance trial this would be in addition to a time trial...”

“Well, be proud of your accomplishments today anyway,” Avaim said, then his face shifted into a veneer of wide-eyed wonder and worship, “Thank you for saving me! You’re my hero!”

Shaya chuckled, then sighed as she approached the entrance of the exam, seeing only one other person who had completed the course: Azreon. Even he sported a few freshly healed scratches, but none nearly so bad as her and his clothing survived mostly intact. He smirked at her as she approached, taking pleasure at apparently having done better than she in the exam.

But before he could launch into a tirade of insults or megalomaniacal ranting, an imperial messenger in immaculate white clothing got out of a carriage and walked towards them. Azreon moved to greet the man, but he was brushed aside as the messenger strode up to Shaya instead.

“Shaya Amon?” the man asked, doing his best not to frown down the bridge of his nose at her state.

“Shaya Heirosoth,” she corrected, cocking her head.

“Apologies,” he bowed, “Princess Theame wishes to dine with you forthwith.”

Shaya blinked, stunned. Beside her, Avaim’s jaw dropped. Over the messenger’s shoulder, Azreon reeled as if struck.

“Of... of course,” Shaya replied, then looked down at herself, “May I... freshen up first?”

“My Lady noted it would not be necessary...”

Shaya turned around to show the burnt and tattered back of her tunic.

“...but perhaps that would be wise, as long as you are quick about it.”