Chapter 324 – Martial Test (Part 1)

Chapter 324 – Martial Test (Part 1)

Dark emerald zeppelins hovered above the meadow, gold hulls shimmering in the waning sunlight. The air filled with the dull hum of their rotors.

Flynn looked up when another airship circled the field. It threw off a ladder to deposit its cargo of martial applicants.

Is it the eleventh? Or the twelfth?

He had begun to lose count, unable to distinguish a new ship from one returning on a second trip. There was a damn fleet of them, ferrying thousands of candidates from the five testing grounds across Nerethi.

Everyone at Yellow…

The sheen of his new grade quickly faded in the mass of candidates. Having just turned seventeen, he fell in the middle of the age group. Martial Studies accepted youths two years older than their mage counterparts, up to nineteen.

I guess physical attributes take longer to grow than Spirit and Mind.

Wandering through the sea of applicants, cold gusts stung his face. His attention dashed among two dozen conversations for useful tidbits, while his ears and nose froze.

He stayed on the sparser fringes, closer to the woods surrounding the meadow. Towering oaks, chestnuts and pines. The size of the hunting grounds defied common sense, yet they were still within the outskirts of Nerethi.

All the riches in the world can’t buy common sense. They brought us here, but can’t give us anything to warm up. Or a snack… Do they like to watch us freeze our asses off?

Flynn cupped his hands, breathing fogged vapor on them. If only he could lie on his couch back in Higharbor, wrapped in a blanket…

A sharp gust shattered that dream.

I should have brought Rain’s scarf.

Dropped here with only a numbered silver tag and instructions not to enter the woods. To think he had paid five golds to take this entrance test. Over a year of his savings—gone.

And it’s pocket change for most patricians…

Highborns and commoners stood in distinctly separate groups, though even the latter looked well off from how they dressed and spoke.

Flynn raked a hand through his hair, trying to shake the creeping sense of inadequacy. Since landing on the mainland, grand and extravagant sights had become the norm—he thought he had found his footing when Nerethi multiplied the madness tenfold.

Get it together.

Growing up in the slums of Slyspring, people expected him to live and die there, surprised every time he took a step beyond. Now that he had friends counting on him, he’d sooner stab his leg than disappoint them.

Kai would be lost without me. How could I do that to him?

Alone, his best bud might walk into a well, head among the clouds, only realizing he fell when he heard the splashing. That, or start a blood feud with every patrician at Raelion. Both sounded equally likely.

And I ain’t here freezing my butt to leave empty-handed…

The Head Shouter said the mandatory testing would end tonight. Winter days were even shorter on the mainland. At this pace, it would take place after dark. Not that he would complain.

The course-specific test varied each year. Woods were one of the most common settings, though the exact rules changed.

I’ll deal with whatever they throw.

He had only one doubt. A word he had heard patricians mention with implication he didn’t fully understand.

Flynn spun on his heel. The shallow dip of the field let him survey the ocean of heads, stretching hundreds of meters to the opposite treeline. About three thousand martial candidates passed the status check, fighting for one thousand spots.

The fastest way to clear his doubts was to ask someone directly.

No people in groups.

That excluded most applicants close to him.

And no patricians.

They were the best informed, and also the least likely to answer.

He needed someone willing to chat with a stranger, and smart enough to know the information he needed.

Following Keen Hunch, he walked up to a girl at the edge of the field. She leaned her back on a tree trunk, her scarlet hair tied in tiny braids, and pulled back with a leather headband, just a few strands escaping.

Her posture reminded him of a hunter.

She had given him a few covert glances. Whether she found him cute or was sizing up the competition, it made no difference to him.

“Hey.” Flynn stopped a meter away when he saw her stiffen, offering his hand and a quiet smile. From her wary posture, he chose not to look too eager or desperate. “I’m Flynn.”

The girl stared at his palm, but made no move to shake it.

His arm fell back to his side. Time ticked. Did he pick the wrong person?

“Hey.” She said, her voice carrying a lilting quality. “Rowan.”

Why doubt it? I’m never wrong… except when I am.

“Nice to meet you, Rowan,” Flynn kept his tone light, with the inkling that his attempts at humor would only irk her. “Are you also taking the test alone? Can we chat?”

Direct and to the point. Who can not appreciate that?

Rowan raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t we already?”

Hmm… Not the easiest audience.

“Yes, we are.” He swallowed half a dozen nervous jokes. Maybe he still wasn’t straightforward enough. “Do you know what are the credits that everyone mentions?”

Rowan eyed him up and down, appraisingly. “I do.”

Great.

“Can you tell me then?” Flynn chuckled like she had made a joke. Curt people always stumbled when he took their laconic responses as amusing.

The girl crossed her arms. “Just… Why should I tell you?”

For my eternal gratitude and sparkling personality?

Flynn bit his tongue to hush the words and glanced at the sea of candidates. “Most of them are in groups already. It won’t be bad to have an ally if it’s a team test.”

“Those are rare.”

“But they’ve used them before.” He had overheard people discussing them. “It’s been a few years since the last. Who knows, this test might be the one?”

Rowan pursed her lips, spinning one of her red braids around her finger. “Even if you’re right. Someone who doesn’t know about Credits of Merit wouldn’t be much of an ally.”

Ouch! How cruel…

Biting his tongue, Flynn wore an unbothered smile. “Do you have anyone better in mind?” He looked at their sparse surroundings. “These Credits of Merit don’t sound very important for the test anyway. You’d be losing nothing with only upsides.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Don’t make me beg.

Seconds stretched before Rowan finally broke her stare. “Alright. You make a fair point… Credits are a currency and a measure of success for students at Raelion. The best performers of the winter intake will also earn some.”

Thanks.

“You mean those who earn the highest total points?” Flynn asked. The snippets he overheard without context finally started to make sense. “Are these credits very valuable?”

“Quite,” Rowan said. “First place for Martial Studies gets a hundred, scaling down for the top five hundred. And nothing below. They can buy many advantages at the academy, or pay for the tuition fee if you aren’t…” She motioned with her chin at a preening patrician. “Most importantly, they help you make it to the second year.”

Looks like I picked the right person to ask.

“You’re awfully well informed,” Flynn said. “You’re not patrician, right? Should I call you Lady Rowan?”

The girl snorted, though her bitter expression hinted at more. “Not unless you want to get stabbed. And that’s not how you’d address me if I was one anyway.” She rested her hand on her empty belt, probably where she’d usually carry a knife or sword.

I feel your pain.