I watched the crowd thin one by one for the next two hours, as if raked by a lightning-speed cholera epidemic. I saw Hallant leave through the pair door in the back of the lobby, and then Konoron, and then Lafax, and Lake and Landon and Livella, and many others, whereas I continued to stand.
I should've been adopted by someone whose name started with A.
At last, the great culling made it down to R, and it was my time to go meet my destiny. Through the mysterious doors, I stepped into a small intermediary area with hallways branching left and right and forward, the paths decorated with marble busts and old suits of armor, and a great many doors that didn't differ from each other by any visible sign.
But as soon as the door behind me closed, another one further down the left side hallway opened. An older woman with a head of frizzy gray hair and kind eyes stepped out to greet me, smiling gently and beckoning.
"Ms Ruthford. This way, if you please."
I went to her and entered a room more modern inside than expected.
All the furniture, tables, drawers and shelves, and a great number of chairs, were arranged along the walls, leaving the central floor clear of obstacles, except for a large, colorless crystal block conspicuously rising in the very middle, set on a hefty metal pedestal.
The edges of the block were framed in elaborately angled bronze panels, forming a caging that prevented energy from escaping into the surroundings. The whole contraption was wired to a large gadget standing on a nearby desk, numerous buttons and meters on its teal-painted side.
Mountain crystal was a good medium for mana. Found everywhere and cheap. It caught the power that was otherwise difficult to quantify and retained it long enough to be measured. Depending on the quality and the refinement process, crystals did have mild leakage issues, which took down the precision somewhat. Being so rigid in structure, rock couldn't endure repeated heating and cooling forever either, but eventually broke down and had to be replaced. But it still met the sweet spot of cost-effectiveness, overall.
Crystal meter was a fairly new innovation.
Less than a century ago, a certified old master would assess novices just by eye. The evaluation could be precise then too, but came with the obvious downside that always followed human involvement. Such as partiality. If the old master didn't personally like you, he could deal great damage to your career with his assessment, and contesting the result was hard. And then the embittered novice, unjustly shut out of formal training, would go on to become a criminal, and use his talent to sow chaos and death in payback.
Leaving the job to a neutral device, with recorded results that anyone could verify, was maybe not as mystical, but undoubtedly the better way.
"Good morning to you," the aged woman greeted me with a grandmotherly smile as she closed the door behind me. "I am Professor Helen Woodrow, your examiner today. Tell me, dear, have you had your mana capacity tested before?"
"Yes, I have."
Many, many times, with the most imaginative methods.
"Then you know how this works. First off, I must ask you to remove any metal items that you might have on your person. Keys, necklaces, rings, coins, earrings…As they might interfere with the flow of magical energy."
"My glasses have metal in the frames, is that fine?"
"Oh, that much is quite fine."
"That's all I have then."
"Truly. Then what is that I see?"
Professor Woodrow pointed at my hand. She'd glimpsed a dragon ring peeking from under the sleeve and gave me a patronizing smile, as if having caught an apple thief red-handed.
"Any performance-enhancing artifacts are strictly prohibited in the exam and may result in your disqualification. Please take it off."
"This is not an artifact," I said and rolled up the sleeve to show the five conjoined scale hoops. "You may inspect it freely. It doesn't contain iron and has no magical effects."
Of course it wouldn't have. The scales repelled mana. Because of that, examining them magically was impossible too. No energy aimed at them reflected back. They showed as a sheer void, no matter what wavelength was observed.
The Professor scrutinized the gross adornment for a bit, turning my hand around.
"Hmm," she finally remarked. "Certainly, I can detect no traces of outside mana or embedded ritual structures. But, sweet child, are you not encumbered with such a heavy bracelet? I do think you'd be better off removing it."
"I agree, wholeheartedly," I said as I pulled the sleeve back down. "But unfortunately, I can't."
"What do you mean, you can't?"
"It was welded on by a tribe of barbarians who kidnapped me as a child."
The old woman's eyes went wide. "You don't say?"
"Yes. They meant to sell me into slavery, and this cuff was the tribe's symbol. I was held for three weeks before a detachment of the Royal Army found the camp in Nyseri and rescued me. But I will forever carry this grim memento of that time. The only way to remove it is to cut off the whole arm, or so I've been told."
"Oh dear. I am so sorry you had to go through such a tragic event!"
I wasn't a professional actor, but the army did teach every troop one invaluable skill: how to maintain a stern poker face in any situation.
The rock-hard proof in front of her eyes, Professor Woodrow could only buy the story. Not that she could've removed the rings even if she tried, unless she really resolved to chop off the whole limb. It didn't seem she was prepared to go that far, though.
"Well, it can't be helped then. If you feel you aren't greatly bothered, we can take your measurement. Please step over to the crystal and put your hand on the spot in the middle."
I went and did as told, fitting my palm against the face of the tall monolith.
"Good," the Professor said. "Now, please focus on channeling your mana and direct it into the crystal. Maintain the flow until I tell you to stop. No need to hold back! Give it all you've got. This device can withstand even our headmaster's power, so it should take yours too. Indeed, it would be a cause for celebration if you broke it. Since that would mean Calidea has a new hero to add to the Seven."
She sure knew how to egg people on.
Why were these "tiers" such a big deal?
The grading system wasn't arbitrary. Channeling capacity grew steadily through use, but it didn't work exactly the same way as physical muscles. At certain stages of development, new energy pathways opened en masse in a rapid burst, and the mage's ability took a giant leap forward. This phenomenon was called Ascension. Although the first Ascensions were so mild in effect, the term wasn't formally used until after Tier 3.
Regardless of individual differences, talent, or experience, the average output after Ascension always fell within the same range of values, or "Tier." It wasn't possible to skip Tiers straight from nothing to 4 or 5. They were fundamental steps built into the very soul, and everyone had to go through them in the same order. The only part where talent really showed was in how short a period passed between one Ascension and the next. An ordinary adept could train hard for twenty years to cross the barrier to Tier 4, while an exceptionally gifted could get there in their teens.
How much stronger did Ascension make a mage? That was the question everyone cared about most, but it was also the most meaningless.
The amount of fuel a mage could draw didn't directly translate to power. I'd seen Tier 5 mages who couldn't have—and didn't want to—hurt a fly, and Tier 2 mages that could singlehandedly go through a platoon of infantry. It was all about application. Technique was the king.
A high-tier mage who had also mastered technique, that was the real menace.
But not even I could have destroyed a nation all by myself. I needed to eat and sleep too. If I stayed up for a week without food or water, then I'd die the same as anybody else. A lot faster, probably, since casting complex rituals was tiring.
But what came after Tier 8?
Nobody knew. No human had reached that stage yet.
There were scholars, who argued that Tier 9 didn't even exist, and 8 was the hard limit. But there had to be at least a few out there whose ability exceeded even the best of humanity, at least among the immortal elves, who began their study when humans still climbed trees.
So why did the school care about tiers? Shouldn't having even faint potential have been enough for peaceful uses? The main issue was that there were simply too many who had "just a little." Academia couldn't include everyone.
Magical potential typically emerged between ages 6-9. If a person remained Tier 1 still at sixteen, almost ten years later, the growth potential was simply not there. That left only another decade before the brain was fully formed at twenty-five. Adapting to higher rituals would be extremely difficult past that, if the foundation was still missing. Such a caster was deemed not worth training as a mage. They were better off finding more grounded employment.
A harsh world.
I'd been through my Ascension seven times to date, but here I was a novice again.
Facing the towering crystal, my molars tightly grinding, I drew forth every scrap of power I could from the fathomless depths of the world. Nothing about my intake itself had changed. But the output…It was like trying to swim against rapids wearing boots of concrete. Like trying to blow air into a balloon with a gaping hole in it.
Unlike me, Mysterium knew their math. Mana was diffused by the five rings nearly at the same rate as I could expel it, and bare scraps made it through and into the stone. The crystal soaked up everything I gave it without much of a reaction. I was squeezing droplets into a lake and wanted to scream.
Are. You. Kidding me!
Could I really not win over a handful of lizard scales?
At my best, I could've cracked a crystal of this size with ease, but now…Yeah. It was simply not happening.
"Very good! You can stop now, dear."
When the Professor gave me permission to stop, I let my hand fall and had trouble hiding my labored breathing.
"You have the mana intensity of a very strong Tier 2," she reported to me. "On the cusp of 3. Clearly, you have practiced very hard before coming here! If only you keep at it diligently for the coming years, I'm certain you will have your Ascension soon. You have the makings of an excellent mage, as long as you don't give up!"
"Thank you…Professor…"
I felt being encouraged in this situation stung even worse than mockery could have.