She caught Arcus’s eye apologetically. He didn’t want her to feel guilty over it, so he gave her a smile in return.
“Next: Lady Amy Zeele.”
The daughter of a duke, even the teacher wouldn’t dare disrespect her. Arcus recalled her father, Quorido, with whom he had exchanged a few words at the aethometer’s launch party. His affability, small frame, and smooth tongue reminded Arcus of Toyotomi Hideyoshi, a prominent figure in the man’s cultural history.
Appearancewise, Amy was totally different. She had soft, golden hair that fell below her shoulders. She conducted herself with a grace that revealed a great attentiveness to each and every movement. The smile never seemed to leave her face, giving her a mild-mannered air.
Her aether, too, measured beyond ten thousand. A surprising amount, considering the House Zeele focused on administration. It was no wonder that she was set to marry Kane.
“What a cohort!” the instructor cried proudly. “We have so many talented students this year! We recently measured the aether of those already enrolled and we were lucky if we saw a single reading surpassing ten thousand in a class. Here we have three! Not to mention the rest of you, who are also pulling up the average.”
Yippee...
Arcus couldn’t have joined at a worse time. Every last one of these kids was showing impressive results. He genuinely wanted to be able to say that his power level was over nine thousand. At least then he could laugh about it.
“Arcus Raytheft.”
The time had come.
“Have a go.” The change in the teacher’s attitude was immediately obvious. No doubt he knew of the name and the rumors attached to it. There was even a flicker of scorn in his eyes. Arcus was being looked down on.
Taking up his position, Arcus released his aether. Naturally, he finished far sooner than Kane and Lecia. It was depressing, even when he had expected as much. Although he knew he would usually measure a little over nineteen hundred, he followed the example of the others and gave a lower reading.
“Fifteen hundred.”
“Ha!” The instructor snorted, as though Arcus’s answer was just what he had been waiting for. He followed up quickly, sounding incredibly smug. “So, you are as talentless as the rumors say! Your lack of aether boggles the mind, especially considering you were born to a martial house!”
He kept his volume deliberately high, as if he wanted to be overheard. Perhaps he wanted the students to pile on themselves. Some of them had similar aether levels to Arcus, but they were all common born. He was being derided solely because of his birth. Looking around, he saw that some of the other children were sneering at him. He sighed inwardly. He had expected this; he felt more exasperated than angry. What he hadn’t expected was for an instructor at the Institute to be just as simpleminded.
“You’re a noble. And yet you have the same aether levels as a commoner! Even the nonmagic children have more than you!”
Not that he was wrong, but Arcus couldn’t understand why he was still talking.
“You can dress it up all you like, but in the end, your shaky foundations will fail you! In fact, you’ve just proven it. You may have gotten first in the written exam—no doubt that was a fluke—but now look at you. It didn’t take long for your true colors to show through. You must be utterly shameless if you thought you could waltz in here with that little aether!”
The teacher seemed far from growing tired of berating him. His throat must have been hurting by now, the way he was shouting. Perhaps his everyday life was causing him a great deal of stress. Being a teacher must have been awfully difficult. Arcus felt he should take his hat off to the man.
“You might have gotten away with covering for your low levels in the past, but those days are over! We are in the age of the aethometer!”
Arcus sighed. The teacher was now thrusting the device in his direction like a senile old man demanding a refill for his medication. There was little Arcus could say, nor did he have the motivation to say it. If only he knew that the aethometer’s inventor—he of such “astounding ingenuity”—was the very boy he was insulting.
Arcus glanced at his sister. She was looking rather sullen. No doubt she was adding this teacher’s name to her growing list of disappointments.
He was still waiting for the storm to pass when a familiar voice called from the entrance to the training grounds: “Are you already finished evaluating these students?”
Arcus turned around. A small figure was making its way over to them.
“Miss String!”
Mercuria String, dubbed Peacemaker by Shinlu. Recently, she had been appointed head lecturer at the Institute, and it was her job to keep the teaching staff in check. Presumably she was here for that very reason. Along with her robe and tricorn hat, she was the spitting image of a fairy-tale witch. She looked young enough to be a student, but the truth was that she was older than Cazzy.
Just like Cassim Lowry, her arrival had everyone there tensing up. The state magicians stood at the peak of the kingdom’s magic users. Their appearance on the battlefield was enough to turn the course of the conflict. They were naturally majestic and intimidating, their might tightening the nerves of all in their presence. Compared to the other students, Arcus and Lecia had it easy; thanks to their uncle, they were used to the effect a state magician could have on a person.
The instructor dipped his head briefly to Mercuria before going on to report the results. “This cohort is truly exceptional! We have three students who have exceeded ten thousand mana, and five who have exceeded eight thousand.”
“Exceptional indeed.”
“Young Kane Lazrael here measured in at seventeen thousand! I am sure we haven’t seen a student like him since the Institute’s founding.”
“That would put him on par with some of the state magicians, if not above.” Mercuria nodded.
A sneer appeared on the teacher’s face. “That isn’t to say we are without exceptions...” He directed said sneer at Arcus. “Including one who, as child to a martial family, really ought to have produced better results. It’s a wonder he didn’t feel embarrassed to enroll in our institution. I believe he must lack the capacity for shame.”
There were titters from the surrounding students. Apparently valuing aether as the be-all and end-all was not restricted to the older generation. At least it didn’t seem to be the majority.
Mercuria caught his eye then. The two of them had been discussing the aethometer for many years now, and those discussions had included the detailed negotiations around its introduction to the Institute. In fact, he’d had more dealings with her than almost any other state magician, barring only Godwald and Muller “Welcome Rain” Quint.
Mercuria sighed deeply. “I thought this might happen.”
“Is something the matter?” asked the teacher.
“No, nothing. Is this the usual approach you take with your students?”
“If I may, ma’am, what exactly do you mean by the ‘usual approach’?”
“I mean, is this how you usually speak about them? To them? Do you value those with high aether more than those without?”
“Is that wrong?”
“You’ve never questioned it?” Mercuria pinched her brow, even more disconcerted.
“It is my belief that there is nothing more valuable to a magician than his aether, ma’am. More aether allows one to fight for longer on the battlefield and use more powerful spells. That much is common sense, surely?”
The state magician suddenly looked thoughtful. “I don’t know if I want to bother explaining from square one... Let us have a little bout.”
“Ma’am?”
“I will use one spell. Just one. You may use as many as you wish.”
The educators took up their positions. The opportunity to witness a state magician in action sent excitement rippling through the students. They leaned forward, watching like hawks to make sure they didn’t miss a single moment.