What We Do to Survive

Despite having said that the exam was over, what Professor Meadows actually meant was that the part of the exam that required our active participation was over. After we had all exited the confines of the ruined training ground, she motioned for us to stand back and proceeded to, in her words, ‘properly evaluate the quality of our learning so she could distribute extra credit’.

In theory, that sounded pretty reasonable. The fact that we were all standing here meant that our creations had been good enough, but did not distinguish between someone who had just barely scraped by with their life and someone who had excelled. In practice, I would have preferred to watch Professor Meadows’s ‘evaluation’ from slightly further away.

Standing beside Miranda just a few short paces away from the shallow pit that had once been a training ground, I watched with a mix of fear, amazement, and longing as our Professor pounded what remained of our transmuted bunkers into dust. Meteors of burning ice and bolts of iridescent lightning fell from the sky, massive battering rams of force and air crashed against the ground with impossible force, and waves of intense heat and cold swept across the pit, only visible by the frost and heat mirages they left in their wake.

It was an absolutely terrifying display, made only more fearsome by the near casual ease with which Professor Meadows created it. She cast spell after spell without any visible difficulty, forming seventh-circle spell matrices with the same ease that I could manage a first-circle force spike.

The only spell she’d cast that had taken more than a handful of seconds was the shield she had used at the very beginning of this display, a completely transparent box of force that fully enclosed the former training ground. Though I could just barely sense the construct, a sort of shimmering haze to my mana sense that made every spell cast within it seem slightly further away than it really was, the occasional shard of rubble and meteor that crashed against it never even made it flicker as they were deflected away.

Through it all, Professor Meadows kept up a running commentary of derisive observations about our work. “Pathetic Corbin, if you’d properly formed the crystal structures that metal should not have buckled the way it did. Look at that, absolutely awful Yawna, that foam is still half-liquid, you’re not going to get any sort of protection from that!”

Less than ten minutes after she’d begun, the only thing left within the bounds of her shield was ash and molten rubble. My bunker had been one of the last ones standing, though unfortunately not the last. That honor went to a glasses-wearing fourth year whose name I didn’t know. The innermost layer of her dome had survived for nearly ten entire seconds longer than anything else, the nearly meter-thick layer of solid tungsten eventually boiling away under a massive beam of golden fire.

Professor Meadows turned around to look at us, a small smirk on her lips and a cruel glint in her eyes. At the same time, the shield around the training ground vanished and a wave of intense heat washed over all of us. Even with circulations specifically designed to deal with heat, it felt like running into a brick wall. Around me, several people stumbled and yelped in pain, and Miranda raised an arm to shield her face from the heat.

“That was frankly a terrible performance, but Academy policies say I have to pass all of you. Congratulations, you are all awful, but alive. Better than some of your fellows managed.” She paused for a long moment, her eyes panning over us slowly. I met her gaze with my own and thought I noticed a hint of a smile, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Those of you who are qualified to take the next level of my class know who you are. I hope to see you next fall. Everyone else, I’m sure you’d make an excellent addition to my collection. Dismissed.”

And that was that. Four classes finished, one more to go.

Miranda and I hurried back to the main Academy building together, wearily watching our classmates for any sudden aggression. Along the way, Miranda filled me in on which of our classmates had failed the exam. I didn’t really recognize any of them, but then again I didn’t know the majority of the eight-hundred or so students that made up the current third and fourth years at the Academy. I only really kept track of the top twenty or so students in both years, along with anyone I’d shared a class with that stood out in my mind. Thankfully, I had someone like Miranda to keep me apprised of everyone else.

We stopped by my room together and I changed out of my foam-covered clothing and grabbed what I needed for my next class, then hurried off to get something to eat from the cafeteria while Miranda stayed behind to ‘eat’ her own meal. The cafeteria was packed with students and filled with a nearly festive atmosphere. Dozens of tired-looking students crowded around the small cafeteria tables, talking loudly about their exams and enjoying the unusually large array of sweets and pastries available at the buffet.

It was Friday afternoon, which meant that nearly everyone was done with their exams by now. Only speciality classes like my own Lectures in Mana Theory met this late in the week and those were typically reserved for upper years. After some very stressful weeks, it was only natural for people to congregate in the safest public space at the Academy, particularly since it was also the place where you could find food that was guaranteed not to be tainted by something. There were so many people crowded into the room that I could feel the mana in the air with more than just my mana sense, a palatable weight that squeezed my shoulders and sat heavily on my tongue.

Unfortunately, I was not one of those students who had finished all of their work for the semester. In fact, I had barely twenty minutes before I had to be in class to present my work. Thus, I was rather annoyed when crowds of first and second year students blocked me from getting to the food for nearly two entire minutes.

Eventually, I gave up on trying to figure out what everything available today was and just grabbed a vegetable-filled bun off a side table, scarfed it down with some water, and rushed off to get to class.

I made it to the room several minutes early without too much trouble. The halls were all but deserted today and I had only seen a handful of students, probably heading towards the cafeteria, along the way. Then I stepped inside and felt as though I had slammed face-first into a brick wall.

If the mana in the cafeteria had felt like a stiflingly heavy blanket, this felt like the time I’d seen a rider get trapped under their dead horse. For a moment, the air in my lungs felt like tar, my chest was crushed by a phantom weight, and I stumbled over my own feet. I instinctively tried to flare my mana to push through the sensation, but I couldn’t. Even focusing with all my might I couldn’t force my mana out beyond the bounds of my skin.

My eyes flickered around the room and I instantly saw the problem. Lectures in Mana Theory was held in a very small classroom. There were a dozen desks arranged in an arc around the board at the front of the room, a small shelf filled with books in one corner, and a few diagrams scattered along the walls. With only eight of us in the class counting the professor, it had always felt like an appropriately sized room.

Now, fourteen professors filled the room, each an archmage with an archmage’s presence and mana. Each of them had come in and talked to us at least once this semester, but I hadn’t expected nearly so many of them to be here. Even with their impeccable control, some amount of their absurdly dense mana filtered out into the room and, since Avalon’s powerful wards prevented mana from moving through the Academy’s walls, it had nowhere to go.

I managed to catch myself on the doorframe before I fell and took a long, shaky breath. Standing up straight took every bit of energy I could muster, but I refused to look weak in a room like this. I walked slowly to my desk, each step a struggle as I waded through the molasses-like air, then carefully sat down in my usual seat.

Liam, who didn’t look much better than I felt, turned to look at me with a pained smile on his face. “Hey. Orion. Lovely to… see you.” He was sitting with a ramrod-straight back and I could see a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Through my mana sense, as muted as it was by the overwhelming pressure around me, I could feel a rigid barrier of mana covering his entire body and flickering slightly whenever he moved.

I nodded back politely, not fully trusting my ability to speak right now. How the hell were they expecting any of us to be able to present in a room like this? I had practiced what I wanted to say and show several times last night after taking into account some of Liam’s suggestions––Rea wasn’t a great audience since she completely refused to criticize basically anything I did, but her presence had still been helpful––but I doubted I’d be able to deliver any of it under the circumstances.

I opened my mouth, planning to at least try and practice before we began, and then suddenly a new presence appeared in the doorway. The Myrddin swept into the room and instantly became the center of attention, all eyes instinctively drawn to him. He surveyed the room, his black-hole eyes lingering on the clumps of professors standing around the edges of the room.

Ivius Ambrosius cleared his throat, a quiet sound but impossible to miss in the sudden absolute stillness of the room. “Well, it looks like everyone who needs to be here is. Let’s get this started then. Professor Rainer, if you would?” Then he leaned back against the doorframe, and, with an almost negligent air, flicked his wrist as though warding off an annoying insect.

The overwhelming pressure in the air vanished as though it had never existed in the first place, replaced by something that felt like a gentle, cooling breeze on a muggy day. In a fraction of a second, the ambient mana went from stifling to Avalon’s invigorating standard.

Professor Rainer, who was technically the head professor for the class, stepped forward from where he had been talking with several of the other professors who had come in to lecture us in the past five months. He was a short, slightly portly and friendly-looking man. At the moment, he looked rather nervous, his hands in constant motion as he tapped away at the small stack of papers clutched in his hands.

“Of course, of course, thank you, thank you,” he began. He paused, reaching up to adjust the collar of his white shirt. Then he confidently strode to the front of the room and turned to face us all. “Right then, welcome everyone, thank you for coming! It's been a pleasure leading this class this past semester. We got a really good group of students this year, though sadly I see some of those who joined us at the start of the term did not stick around. A shame, a shame. Well, no matter! We've had a lot of great speakers come in and I’ve heard great things about you from all of them.”

He paused again, setting his papers down on the lectern in front of him and leaning forward. “Well, today is the culmination of what you’ve all learned this past semester. I’ve spoken with several of you about your work and what I’ve seen so far has been very impressive, so I’m sure we’re all in for a treat! We have something of an audience for today’s presentations. Thank you, my dear colleagues, for coming today, and of course for all your hard work preparing our wonderful students for this day. I’m sure that without all of you, none of what we shall see today would have been possible.”

“Now then, some logistics. We’ll be going by year today, and then by last name. We have one third year, two fifth years, two sixth years, and two seventh years, a good distribution if I do say so myself. Mr. Hunter, you will be starting us off, and then we shall end with Mr. Marc Pierr. As we discussed at the beginning of the year, you will hand me your report and then you’ll have fifteen minutes to show us all what you’ve got. We have quite a crowd here today, but be aware that grades are assigned by myself along with Professors Manton and Zim. Grades and class rankings should be available late next week and I’ll hold some office hours over break if you want to discuss my grading. Any questions before we begin?”

I swallowed heavily. I had really, really hoped to get a chance to see how some of the others were going to do things before my turn came around. Instead, it seemed like I was going to be going first.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Liam's smile and thumbs up. ‘You got this,’ he mouthed. He was right. This was going to be fine. I was really, really glad that he’d reached out and helped me prepare for this. I still had no idea what ulterior motives he’d had for doing so, but I was thankful for his help regardless.

After a few seconds of silence, Professor Rainer smiled broadly. “Well then, let’s get started! Mr. Hunter?” He grabbed his papers and stepped away from the lecture. “The floor is yours.”

I stood up, glancing briefly at the professors lining the back wall of the room. Professor Zim looked just as severe as when I’d had him for a class in my first year, but something about him felt far more open and… intrigued than I remembered. I blinked when the Myrddin, who I had somehow not noticed despite my eyes passing directly over him, gave me a little wave, then gestured towards the front of the room.

Squaring my shoulders, I walked up to the front and handed Professor Rainer my freshly bound paper. I had no idea if he was going to grade on form factor at all for the paper, but it had seemed like a good idea this morning. I had found the spells used for binding books back in my first year and had been using them to create my optimally-sized class notebooks ever since, so it wasn’t exactly a challenge to do and it really did look a lot better than a pile of loose pages.

I did my best to put the crowd of mages many years my senior in both knowledge and experience out of my mind. Stressing about their presence was only going to make things worse, and I really did want to do well on this presentation. Not only would a good grade in this class really help me out in the future, but leaving a good impression on these people was even more valuable than that. I just needed to do my best as always. I had done the work, done the preparation, now I just needed to not blow it all by freaking out and forgetting everything.

Easier said than done. ‘Deep breaths Orion, deep breaths.’ Hopefully the extra smiling practice I’d done with Miranda was going to pay off.