Jackson rose from his sleep, dark circles around his eyes. His encounter with the creature from the woods a few days ago would have been stressful enough but having to prepare for the Board of Appraisal assessment on top of that was starting to affect his health. Luckily, he wouldn't have to worry about that much longer, since today was the day of the exam. Jackson stretched, checking the alarm clock on his bedside, realizing he was awake half an hour before he had planned to be. Normally, Jackson would be devastated to wake earlier than he had to, but today he was begrudgingly thankful. That meant an extra half hour of practice. He still didn't know exactly what to expect from the assessment—magic, obviously, but the details weren't disclosed to him. He slipped on his robes, sneaking out of his bedroom window so that he wouldn't wake Ulric on his day off—before flying across the town at a leisurely pace. His control was getting a lot better on account of his consistent training, so managing his pace and mid-air coordination was becoming something of a breeze.

  The sun was barely rising by the time he got to the academy, the long shadow of the town clocktower was joined by those of the noble mansions nearby—all gathered around the higher-class district of Baypost. It was like the town was purposefully constructed so that the tall peaks of the central district would overshadow the poorer areas on either side during both the rise and fall of the sun. To Jackson, it seemed a statement. It was the right of nobles to hoard even the sun itself. Jackson never liked nobles, with very few exceptions. His dad never talked about it, but he knew his parents weren't treated well before they moved to Baypost, and even now it was difficult to make ends meet whilst others enjoyed the spoils of their toiling. It's not like he hated every noble on a personal level—he was good friends with Elquire, who Jackson was certain had a noble background—and almost all the mages at the academy would be the same. But even then, a part of him held disdain for them. People could live several lifetimes and still never obtain the life of comfort that nobles were simply born into. He envied them at first, especially since it was borderline impossible to learn magic without the funding of a noble house, even if one was born a poor yet talented mage. That envy had fallen away with time, replaced with frustration and anger. Those people had vast resources—all built on the broken backs of people like his dad. He tried his best to separate the people he met at the academy from their status, but there was always a twinge of something in his stomach whenever he interacted with them. He was like a soldier behind enemy lines, expected to fraternize with people who had cut down his comrades without consideration. He bore no ill-will to the individual soldier—they were doing as they were instructed—but that didn't change what they did. He pushed the thought aside. Now was not the time to be focusing on his grievances.

  As Jackson stepped through the grand entrance to the academy, he was greeted by a tear forming in reality before him as Miss Aster stepped out to greet him. He wasn't convinced Miss Aster thought he would pass the examination. When he'd seen a flare of what seemed to be pity in her eye a week prior, the only explanation was her doubt in him. He aimed to prove her wrong.

  "Hello, Mr. Jackson," Miss Aster said in her typical playful tone, "you all prepared?"

  "Definitely." Jackson was a little surprised at the confidence he expressed, despite his nerves. He could fumble over his words at the best of times.

  "Good, I was right to deem you an Inferion then. Rialu says you've been making good progress in shaping water."

  "Yeah. You know, I don't want to be get on your nerves—"

  "—that normally precedes someone doing just that—"

  "—but why don't you explain anything like that to me? I only found out what type of Hybrid I am, or Hells even what a Hybrid is, because El told me."

  "Put simply, child, it's because you're expected to know all that already. Yes, you are a special case since you've been awakened not even a full three weeks, but it doesn't suit me to take time away from classes or my duty as Head to explain every question you have. Plus, I told you about the library, which it seems you've been visiting semi-frequently. I thought you would have read up on stuff like that."

  "That's," Jackson said before pausing briefly, "that's fair."

  "That it is, child, that it is. Let's get us to your assessment, shall we?" Miss Aster opened another portal, revealing the appraisal room he had visited when he first awakened, the Board of Appraisal all seated as they had been at that time.

  "What happened to 'not using your powers frivolously'?"

  "This isn't frivolous one bit. You expect me to climb all those stairs? It would ruin my makeup, child, and that is not a frivolous matter."

  Jackson didn't reply, resigned to the fact he would never understand the headmaster's definition of 'frivolous'. He stepped through the crack Miss Aster had created, feeling slightly disoriented as he did. The members of the Board were all looking at him, their expressions a mix of annoyance, curiosity, and indifference. Miss Aster seemed to fall upwards towards her seat before landing in it with a graceful flourish. She had probably changed how gravity affected her, Jackson thought. What exactly Miss Aster was capable of, he wasn't sure he'd ever know.

  "Ahem," she said with a clearing of her throat, "We, the Board of Appraisal, convene here this day, Ouranus the 42nd of Exa, to discuss the plea of Mr. Jackson Trinity to receive a reduced-cost scholarship to attend the Academy." She let out a sigh, slouching slightly in her chair. "With those formalities out of the way, shall we get started?" The rest of the board nodded in agreement. "Great. Mr. Trinity, we had considered your plea, and the majority of the board has agreed to allow it, provided you impress in this assessment. With that out of the way, are you ready to begin, child?"

  "Yes." Jackson stated firmly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides to stop them from shaking.

  "Mr. Jackson," began the muscular man, Efail, "let it be known I am against your proposal. I believe it shows unfair treatment and blatant favouritism. There have been many mages with incredible talent that we have turned away since they cannot pay the fees. Whether that was the correct decision or not, that is the decision that was made. To deviate now would be to deny those other mages for nothing. But the majority of us voted to hear your plea and allow you to demonstrate your skills, so I anticipate you doing so."

  Jackson remembered Efail from before. The man hadn't exactly expressed high faith in Jackson, which hadn't seemed to have changed. "Alright. What do you need me to do?"

  "We have been informed you are an Inferion, correct?" came the dwarf—Miss Aster called him Valentino—speaking with an air of joviality.

  "Yes. I've been attending Ego and Shaper classes."

  "Well, that solves the issue of your class," he said, seeming slightly deflated at the confirmation, "as simple an explanation as it is. Why don't you demonstrate your Ego magic for us?"

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Jackson nodded in response, positioning himself in the centre of the assessment area. He'd done this dozens of times before. He didn't even need to really concentrate that hard for it anymore, he simply pushed against the world as he shot up into the air, hovering at eye level with the board.

  "Interesting," Valentino stated, "is your magic gravity manipulation by chance?"

  "It's actually flight."

  "Oh. I suppose that's unique, if not as interesting…"

  "You seem to have made good progress since your first flight, child," Miss Aster said, "you have been practicing."

  "Of course, I can't fail here. I still have so much more to learn."

  "While your attitude is commendable," Efail interrupted, "attitude alone doesn't make a good mage. Knowledge, on the other hand, does. Any mage can use their innate magic to some degree. To improve, they need to understand how that magic works. As such, would you mind explaining yours?"

  "I think—" Jackson said before he interrupted himself, "No, I can do that."

  The board sat in anticipation, awaiting his explanation. Rialu didn't seem to care much, her sleepy form seeming disinterested. She was probably waiting to see his progress as a Shaper. Efail and Miss Aster were waiting expectantly, but Valentino looked as if he was trying to distract himself, like he wanted to avoid the explanation altogether.

  "There's this thing that surrounds mages, an intangible force. When I try and fly, mine pushes against a point in space. I'm certain it isn't the object that possesses that space, but rather the actual spot in existence itself that I push against. Since I'm fairly sure moving the world is impossible, any force I use to push against it doesn't move the world and instead moves me in the opposite direction. It's physics, I read about some people who studied it in one of Exnos' books."

  "That's a pretty in-depth understanding for someone who awakened as recently as you," Miss Aster spoke, "but note one thing. Moving the world isn't impossible."

  "It's just impossible for you," Efail interjected. "Impossible for a mage with your magic. If you assume every mage, every thing, can only do as you do, that they all have the same limits and abilities as you do, then you won't last long if you need to fight. As a mage, that is less of an if and more of a when."

  The way Efail spoke didn't sit well with Jackson and his pride, but the actual contents of what he said did hold value. He was a very specific type of mage, with very specific limits. Other mages would be different. It's something he never really stopped to consider before, but most mages didn't end up as scholars or researchers of the arcane. Most ended up as soldiers or mercenaries. Those that joined adventuring guilds also had to fight—whether that be bandits, creatures, spirits, or other magical beings. He was still in the honeymoon phase with magic, but the day would come where he had to use it for real.

  "Enough with the Ego stuff," came the raspy voice of Rialu, "I want to see if he's improved his skills as a Shaper."

  Miss Aster waved her hand, and a barrel of water fell from a rift that appeared slightly above the floor. Jackson floated down and landed before the barrel, looking at the reflection shimmering across its surface under the saturated light of the appraisal room.

  "First," Rialu began, "shape the water into a pyramid, then a cube, then a sphere. After that, I want you to construct a dagger out of the water."

  Jackson froze slightly. He was yet to create a complex water structure that didn't fall apart. A fully-fledged dagger would be an issue. He steeled himself and raised his hands to the barrel, earning him a slight glare from Rialu.

  "No gestures," she stated firmly. "If we are to award this plea, you have to show great promise. If you can't use Shaper magic without telegraphing, you're useless in a fight."

  Jackson clenched his jaw but lowered his hands. After taking a moment to collect himself, Jackson flared his magic, running it around his body faster and faster, allowing magic to flow to his eyes once again. He reached out with his Tincture and grabbed at the water. It took more concentration and focus than when he could use his hands, but his regular training was alleviated some of the difficulty. His Tincture found leverage in the liquid, pulling up an unshaped puddle that he easily managed to meld into a pyramid. Cubes were harder, as more volume was needed, but he managed it with relative ease. Creating a perfect sphere would be borderline impossible, but magic seemed to make such things possible despite themselves. Jackson condensed the water with his Tincture into an almost perfect sphere, but there were some divots and grooves in the water he couldn't smooth out, and some water droplets had started to leak from the construct. He looked up at Rialu, who seemed satisfied so far, so he attempted to create the dagger. He envisioned the handle first since that was the easiest part, melding the water to fit the rough shape he was imagining.

  He melded the water into a cylinder before leaving imprints that would act as the grip, stretching one end slightly into a small cross-guard. He even managed to get something resembling a blade, minus any distinct edge, before he let concentration on the handle slip, causing the back half of the construct to collapse onto the floor with a wet plop.

  Rialu let out a sigh.

  "I know this isn't what you wanted to hear, Mr. Jackson," came Efail's voice, "but if you cannot form a complex water structure despite the time you've been given to prepare, and being taught exclusively water with regards to Shaper magic, then I don't see how we can, in good faith and fairness, accept your plea."

  The rest offered no counterargument. They were silent, seemingly in agreement.

  Jackson's shoulders slumped, and a lump started to form in his throat. That's it then, he thought to himself—no more mage classes.

  Efail began to rattle on regarding closing the meeting, formalities and such, like had been done earlier, but Jackson noticed Miss Aster. She was gazing at him with a smile. It was odd but not menacing or pitying. It was encouraging. Then it hit him how big an idiot he was.

  "Wait!" Jackson yelled.

  "Mr. Trinity, I understand you're upset, but yelling won't change—"

  "I can do the other Shaper magics!"

  Silence.

  "Really?" Rialu said, some enthusiasm creeping into her typically deadpan voice.

  "Yes. I forgot to mention it earlier because of my nerves." Jackson turned to face Efail. "Please."

  Efail sighed. "Okay, Mr. Trinity. But if you are just saying this in order to drag out this meeting in hopes we'll change our minds, we will not. Please proceed."

  Miss Aster snapped her fingers, and the water vanished, replaced by a pit of flames and a patch of earth.

  Jackson focused on the flames, gripping them between his tincture and feeding them his energy as a source of fuel. A blazing ball of fire was produced in Jackson’s palm, one siphoned from the flames. It burnt for a few moments before he snuffed it out. He moved onto the earth, digging up a boulder before making it crumble and fall back down to the floor. Finally, he felt the air in the room waft between his fingers and hair as he grabbed hold of the air currents—like strings of a marionette, forcing them to ripple out in front of him, displacing the hair on the faces of the board.

  Rialu was practically beaming, which for her meant a slight smile and half-widened eyes. "Where'd you learn this?"

  "I read about it. I need to pass this assessment, so I wanted to impress."

  "Well, you have done just that. I for one, have seen enough. I cast in approval of Mr. Trinity's plea."

  "As do I," Valentino chimed in.

  "And I," Miss Aster exclaimed.

  The board turned to face Efail, who was holding his head in one hand, rubbing his brow.

  "Not that it matters, but I cast in disapproval of Mr. Trinity's plea. There is no doubt that he is a fast learner and shows good promise as a mage. What he showed here today was, indeed, impressive for someone having been awakened for such a short span of time." He paused, contemplating his decision. "Despite that, he is not the only mage we have had that showed promise. How many have we turned away despite their impressive nature and potential? Dozens? Hundreds? I just... don't see how we can justify such blatant favouritism." He turned to face Jackson. "Don't take this personally, Mr. Trinity. I have been outvoted anyway, and you have thus passed your assessment. I do hope that you do well here, perhaps more so than most on this council. Since we have no choice to allow this, you best prove why you deserved this, and your contemporaries did not."

  Jackson was ecstatic at the news. He had passed; he could be a mage—a fully-fledged, studied mage. But he couldn't help but take in Efail's words. They weren't wrong, and for that, he felt a twinge of guilt. That guilt subsided, however, and he found a smile spread across his face.