Chương 18: A Half-Elf, A Noble, And A Lion

Ryland wended his way through the gathered hopefuls until he was standing before the trio that the clerk had indicated. His first impression of them was an unfortunate abundance of… disparity. And it wasn't just their looks. The way they stood slightly apart from each other, the way they held themselves like each of them was their own little fortress, it all combined to banish any notions that his team was a well-drilled group where he would be the only odd one out. Pros and cons.

Ryland could—would need to—work with this.

"Are you our surprise fourth teammate?" asked a tall, half-elvhenan woman who kept her pointy ears prominently displayed by maintaining her auburn hair in a tight bun.

"You're late. Really, really late." She meant in general. He had checked the time and ensured he wouldn't miss today's program.

"Nice to meet you too," Ryland said pleasantly.

"My name is Ryland." The half-elvhenan had the grace to flush just a bit.

"Alendra. I'll be pleased to make your acquaintance after I've seen what you're capable of." Blunt, bordering on rude, but he certainly couldn't fault her for that approach. A bad teammate could cost her a place in arguably the most prestigious institution of magic in the entirety of the Accorded Realms. People were known to kill to gain an acceptance letter from Arcoryx Academy. His next teammate was a noble. An impression reinforced by his blithe greeting.

"Kendren," said a young blond human in rich clothes, flourishing the shallowest of bows.

"Welcome to the team, Ryland. I'd ask you to do your best, but… I'm going to pass one way or another, so you can honestly do whatever." Right. That made sense. No doubt he had made some sort of arrangement to ensure his entrance into the academy. In the past, he might have scowled at it. He would have considered it a usurpation of a spot for someone truly meritorious and dedicated. And even now, Ryland wouldn't blame anyone feeling or thinking that way. He understood the perspective all too well.

But such rash feelings had mellowed out over the years. For one, he didn't know this lord. For another, he was technically jumping to conclusions based on one sentence. Deliberation was, as ever, important. So, Ryland merely nodded his head amicably.

"Sint," said the lion-headed Therian. She didn't say anything further. Her getup wasn't that dissimilar from Ryland's, with a dark cloak obscuring her other clothes and accoutrements.

"A pleasure to meet you all," Ryland said. He faced Sint, the Therian.

"Did you get that cloak from Realm 7? I think I recognize the stitches."

"Realm… seven?" she asked. Her voice was a little bit growly, a trait of feline Therians that made them sound permanently angry. Ryland didn't detect any heat in her voice. Just wariness.

"Apologies," he said.

"I meant Revorel."

"I'm from there, yes." Rather than that being a point of common ground they could bond over, Ryland could see her physically tense up. Hmm. Was he really that bad at making friends? Maybe she was just wondering how in the world did he possess a cloak from her home world when he was clearly no Therian. Ryland thought about explaining, but then, Alendra was stepping up.

"So Ryland," she said.

"I'm aware of what the other two are capable of. You, by virtue of being completely new, are a mystery."

"You will find that I'm a perfectly open individual."

"Is that right?" Her eyes screwed up.

"Being too open isn't a good thing, though. It's suspicious. But anyway, I'm obviously not going to ask what your Soul Glyph is. So instead, answer me this—how good are you at barrier magic?"

"I like to think I'm rather proficient at it," Ryland said. Honestly, he'd have told them what his Soul Glyphs were, but Alendra had brought up an interesting point. Ryland could try being affable, but if he did so in odd ways, he would end up simply alienating others. Not everyone was as accepting of weirdness like Viren seemed to be. Especially in a situation like this, where a lot was on the line.

"That's good," Alendra said approvingly.

"And how good are you at aggression management spells?"

"Very proficient at those as well," Ryland said. Alendra frowned.

"You said that about barrier spells."

"Can one not be proficient at multiple things?"

"They can. Yet the chances of one person being proficient at multiple things is slim. That's just reality. How about direct damage spells?"

"Very proficient."

"…healing spells?"

"Very proficient."

"Support spells? Conjuring magic? Summons? Transfiguration? Divination?"

"Adept, competent, adequate, capable, and fine enough if I do say so myself." Alendra scowled, her thin face looking even sharper for it.

"Okay, now you just sound like a Calamity-cursed thesaurus. Are you trying to pull my leg or something?" Ryland raised his eyebrows. It was always a tiny bit jarring to hear "Calamity" being used as an everyday curse.

"Had I been pulling your leg, would you not be dangling from my hand right about now?" Alendra stared at him. Kendren was the one who broke the silence with a barking laugh. He clapped a hand over his stomach to contain his laughter.

"Looks like we've got a jack of all trades. What kind of insane magic lets you be good at everything?" A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"It's a farce!" Alendra said.

"He can't be good at everything." Her face turned cold.

"Looks like we'll have to stick with our original plan. We'll just pretend he's not there and take care of things ourselves." Kendren tutted, shaking his head.

"What a shame. I thought I was going to be carried, not be forced to carry others." Alendra turned her glare on him, but he wilted away before she could scold him. Sint remained silent through the exchange, her cautious eyes trying to bore a hole through Ryland's skull. Hmm. He had thought being open would be most ideal. If they had all their capabilities out in the open, then they would surely be able to work significantly better. That was how it had been done in the Realmbreaker Wars.

Commanders and leaders had been insistent on clear and open communication. It seemed his new teammates weren't quite appreciating that. Clearly, Ryland was missing something. Something that went beyond just the simple disbelief that one person could be good at all kinds of magic. Because Sint had been wary from the start. He supposed it was odd for a surprise candidate to enter the Trials at the last minute. In their shoes, he'd have been suspicious too. Ryland sighed.

Just one of those things he'd have to tackle over time instead of trying to fix immediately. He tried addressing the issue by asking about their capabilities in turn. After all, having revealed his magic, it was natural they'd give him some idea of what they could do in return. That would form the basis of their teamwork. Unfortunately, the results of his attempt at camaraderie weren't very encouraging. Alendra squinted her eyes as Ryland finished his question.

"Don't worry. You'll get to see soon enough just what I'm capable of. And believe you me, it'll be more than enough for us to win." Well, at least she was confident. Sint didn't even bother answering him, content to just silently watch him with her sharp eyes. At least Kendren looked like he was genuinely about to answer Ryland. He even gave Alendra and Sint his mildest look of disparaging disapproval, one he made sure the other two didn't notice, before facing Ryland with an open expression of his own.

Sadly, the academy administration decided to butt in just then. They had decided to address the gathered candidates about the Trials. It was a bit impersonal, and even the few Academs present were only there to give a general overview. Right now was merely the testing phase to see who would make it through and who would be excised. They wouldn't be investing their energies into any individual without proof of competence first, regardless of what the admissions committee had determined.

Ryland listened patiently and learned the particulars that were shared. The Trial would indeed be a team-based competition, where they would be required to reach a certain destination within a given time. That was the essence of their first test. Those who passed it would be invited to the second test, where they'd be facing an obstacle course created by the High Academs of Arcoryx. Ryland glanced over at the older professors present at the back. They looked impassively over the gathered entrants.

A few of them stared at him for a mite longer than they did the others, but never for too long.

"The specifics of the first test will only be revealed once you enter the Trial Zone," the chief administrator said.

"A key part of your evaluation is your ability to overcome the unknown. As such, the details are being kept secret for now. Good luck on your Trials tomorrow, candidates. May Fate shine on you." Ryland winced. Fate was definitely not going to take a shine to him. He was now left wondering just how much Fate was going to affect the Entrance Trials. That it was being held in a Reality Demesne would limit its impact somewhat, but it certainly wouldn't grant him full protection.

A slow worm of excitement poked its head out of the soil of Ryland's soul. He wasn't exactly being welcomed with open arms, but that just added to the challenge. And challenge was exhilarating. Though, he was reminded of Alaric's insistence on the necessity for suppressing himself. A part of him wondered if his first meeting with his team would have gone smoother had he actually tried to hide his capabilities. But the thought made him cringe again. Were lies really necessary to get along with people?

Ryland shook his head. A resounding no was what he had told Viren, and he wasn't one to go back on his word hypocritically.

"Applicants," said a High Academ, a forgean with half of his academy robes removed to accommodate the oversized metallic right half of his torso.

"Just the fact that you stand before us here and now is a great accomplishment in and of itself. Not many have the qualifications or the courage to take part in Arcoryx's Entrance Trials. So take heart in the fact that you belong here."

"But," said another professor, a tall woman with a patch over one eye, her umber skin a sign of her Oureviache heritage in northwestern Vyrd.

"Do not forget that you will be tested. You will be pushed. In some cases, pushed to and beyond what you believe your limits are. Seek within yourselves the wherewithal to claim the magical might needed to overcome the challenges you shall face, and when the time comes, act." Ryland nodded along. This was the exact kind of words he had heard when he had first attempted to become a graduate student at Arcoryx a few centuries ago. The nostalgia stoked the embers of his excitement into a small blaze.

He felt both the Academs' eyes lingering on him a mite longer than the others. That just reminded him of his conversation with Alaric. The Headmaster's primary goal of making sure Ryland's presence didn't cause a chaotic stir appeared to already be dealing with a setback. Despite the suppressed state of his magic and manasoul, Ryland was still being noted. He smiled right back at them. When all the formal activities were completed and they were free to leave, Ryland turned his bright smile at his new teammates.

"Would you all like to head out to dinner with me?" he asked. It had worked fantastically with Viren. Made sense why. Good food always helped. It was one of the reasons Ryland continued eating despite not needing—"Are you insane?" Alendra asked. Or maybe not.

"The Trials are tomorrow," Alendra continued.

"I'm going to be spending all night making sure we— I —make it through. I don't have time for dinners." She stalked off past him.

"I'd actually have enjoyed a nice outing," Kendren said. He saluted Ryland with two fingers and a smirk.

"But alas." Sint was the last one left. Ryland was wondering if she'd keep waiting until he exited first, but then she walked by him, still just as tense as before.

"I don't know what you really intend," she said, her voice low and dangerous.

"But you're not fooling me. I can smell it on you. The stench of massacres, the shriek of deaths scarred on your very spirit. I—""Ah, my apologies." Ryland focused for a moment. It seemed he had been a bit too focused on the questing tendrils that touched on his Inscribed Glyphs and manasoul, and not the deeper, spiritual sort of surveys that certain others, like adept Therians, could perform.

"There. That should do it." Sint's reaction grew worse, unfortunately. She froze for a second, then flashed away from him, so fast that Ryland was certain no one but him had caught her movement. Her faintly leonine face had gone pale as bone.

"What did you do? I can't smell it on you anymore. How did you just remove it?"

"I did say I was rather proficient at magic," Ryland said. She continued staring at him blankly. The wariness was transforming into straight-up alarm. Hmm. Had he dug his grave deeper somehow? Perhaps he ought to clarify.

"But if you must know the specifics," Ryland said quickly after taking a deep breath.

"I simply used a spell circle with my Soul Glyph of Aegis at the centre and created a barrier around the memories you were smelling by using a Conceptual Glyph to create a Glyph of Past which I assume is significantly higher Tier magic than even your finely-tuned senses and—""Just don't try anything funny tomorrow," Sint said, cutting him off when her eyes had started glazing over at the verbal blast.

"Or you'll regret it." Then she disappeared. When Ryland met back up with Viren later outside the Trials hall, the boy was smiling widely.

"That was fantastic, sir," he said.

"Great first meeting." Ryland wasn't always the best at it, but he didn't detect a single hint of sarcasm.

"You really saw all that?" He clucked his tongue.

"I feel like at least two of my teammates hate me."

"That's fine. The lower someone thinks of you, the higher they'll hold you in their esteem once you wow them." Ryland's eyebrows rose. He was tempted to chuckle.

"Is that so?"

"Yes! Believe me, after tomorrow, there's not a single person here who can hate you. You'll see. I've got faith in you, sir." Ryland smiled.

"Well, that makes one of you, at least."