A glowing orb hovered in the hallway outside the measurement room. I stopped to stare at it and thought to see a tiny, mildly incandescent and vaguely humanoid figure bobbing up and down in the light, without sound. It was half like an insect, with large eyes and long antennae on its head, and serrated butterfly wings on its back, hands quietly waving at me. When I stepped closer, it floated farther down the hallway and continued to gesture.
It appeared to be an illusion created to guide me, not a genuine spirit. Or, was it? Would it lead me to the next part of the exam, or my death in a sinister trap, how was I supposed to know?
I went after it all the same, and the pixie led me down the quiet, winding passageways of the Arcane department and on to an old door of heavy oaken boards with a ring in place of a knob. When I came near, the pixie passed through the door, fading into nothing, and left me to face off with the portal into who could say where.
I grasped the rough iron ring and banged the door with it.
The way opened on its own, and behind fell a long, narrow, stone-hewn stairway into absolute darkness. Not one lamp was there to light the way, and the plunge couldn't have looked more dangerous and forbidding if it tried. But this was where the pixie brought me.
Since I was there, I could at least check out what was below. You'd think they'd put a lock on the door if it were actually dangerous.
I descended into the dark embrace. The organizers probably expected the examinees to be able to cast a basic light spell to see their way, or maybe fire, or something else. I didn't. My unfortunate trait converted any conjured light into beams in the ultraviolet range, invisible to the naked eye. But there was no need to conjure anything in this case. A much easier way existed.
Magical energy by itself could be used to observe the environment.
Mana retained extrasensory linkage to the caster even when sent outside the body, allowing information exchange both ways. This inexplicable, etheric bond was retained even without intentionally creating it, and explained how spells like Telekinesis could be controlled remotely in real time. It was a natural property of mana, though still poorly known and explained.
Emitting mana in waves enabled a trained adept to scan their surroundings, based on how the waves reflected or diffused. It was essentially a mystical version of groping around. The official name of the technique was Mana Sense.
A mage who couldn't observe energy was not a mage at all.
A more advanced version of the technique also existed.
Attuning to the power fluctuations to such an intimate extent that instead of only vague sensations, the brain began to perceive them directly in visuals, and could see sides of reality invisible to the layman…This was the skill wizards of ancient times considered a sign of divine guidance: Third Eye.
Gods had no part in it, though. It was a skill honest training could manifest.
My sight had been modified to amplify the effectiveness of Third Eye and induce a form of synesthesia. I saw not only my own energy, but all mana-based waveforms as images.
Too bad, the researchers didn't consider user comfort with their modifications. Even if visuals were easier to process, the information content wasn't any lesser. Being flooded with too much data that I had no way to filter gave me a headache. The glasses Charlotte gave me were meant to help with that, but I had to take them off if I wanted to make full use of my sensory skills.
I kept going down, the staircase painted shimmering gold in my sight by the emissions of mana. The steps ran on for a long way before at last meeting a small, vaulted chamber deep underground, thick with the smell of damp earth and mold. The walls were reinforced with small bricks, the mortar worn deep, the corners chipped round.
On the side was a small table, and on the table burned a collection of stumpy wax candles, a lone hourglass standing beside them. In the candles' mellow light by the table stood a sketchy-looking man dressed in a brown, hooded cloak, a plain rope belt tied around the waist, reminiscent of a monk. The face under the hood was not very old, though.
I wondered if he was dressed that way just to set the scene, and it was not his usual day-to-day outfit.
"Hello," I said. "Am I in the right place?"
"Hello," the man replied in a quiet voice, as though not wanting to disturb some nameless thing lurking underground. But he had a mischievous smile on his lips. "Yes, you are. Don't worry."
He didn't seem too scary up close.
"Welcome to the dungeons of Belmesion," the monk told me when I went over. "Though it was not part of the official exam, you have already passed a small test on your way down here. A test of courage, if you will. Believe it or not, we have a few applicants every year who fail this part. But a mage must have both courage and self-confidence to succeed."
"You could say that."
"It would seem you weren't greatly troubled finding your way. Excellent. From here begins the next part of the entrance examination of the Magic course: the practical magic application test. Quite a mouthful, isn't it? Are you ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"Very good."
The man dressed as a monk glanced to the back end of the chamber, where a narrow, wooden door with a little window and iron bars on it blocked the way.
"Your task is quite simple," he said. "Ahead of you lies a straight tunnel without branching paths. We call it the Corridor of Sages. All you need to do to pass the test is proceed through the tunnel to the chamber at the far end. Along the way, you will find several locked doors. These doors cannot be opened by keys or by brute force. Yet, a way through you must find, if you wish to enroll."
How mysterious.
"Past each door," he continued, "you will find a small treasure. Take good care of these treasures; you will need them yet, before your journey's end. That is all I can tell you. You have altogether six hours to clear the challenge. If you run into a door you cannot open and wish to forfeit, you may simply come back here again. But you may only attempt the test once—and nevermore. Once you leave this area, you won't be able to return."
"That's all?"
"That's all. Simple, isn't it? Although, you may find the test is...not as easy as it sounds. It is the 'Corridor of Sages' for a reason. All the basic skills of magicians are thoroughly tested. But don't worry. It won't be strictly necessary for you to complete the challenge. The more doors in the corridor you do open, the better your overall score will be—naturally—but it's possible to pass with a less than perfect outcome. In fact, very, very few ever reach my colleague waiting behind the last door. I personally hope you will succeed, though. Professor Fawkes has had a very, very dull day so far. Do you have any questions?"
"Pass through obstacles and meet your colleague at the end," I summarized. "Clear enough."
"Very well then."
The man went over to the door in the back of the chamber.
"Ah, this one doesn't count," he said. "I'll open it for you myself. It's awfully stiff, you see."
The monk professor wrenched the thick oak door open, let me pass, and then closed it behind me, with one final parting remark:
"Your six hours begin...now. Good luck!"
I found myself, as promised, in a long corridor. The name was too fancy for what I faced there. It was a tunnel narrow enough that I could reach from wall to wall only by holding out my hands to the sides. The place was also entirely without light, the same as the stairs, forcing me to rely on magic to not run into walls.
A claustrophobic might forfeit the test right there. But as the man said, you couldn't be a mage if you weren't brave. Dark basements were nothing compared to the horrors other magicians could inflict on you. There was no power so feeble and harmless that it didn't rouse envy and hatred in others, and make someone want to ruin you. Either you faced your fears and found the courage in you, or gave up on magic altogether.
I walked on in the dark, idly thinking.
For me to be able to take this test alongside everyone else without waiting and spend six hours on it could only mean there were either multiple identical corridors in the academy, or maybe multiple instances of the same corridor. How that was organized, technically, went beyond my understanding of magic.
How amusing. Belmesion had more mysteries to offer than I thought.
About thirty steps in, I met the first puzzle of the corridor. A plain door of thick boards shut the way, reinforced with iron bands, similar to the one before, but with a couple of noteworthy differences: this door had no lock, no knocker, no handle, and no window.
In short, there was no conventional, manual way to open it.
A hastier examinee would probably try to blast through with offensive magic—and have it backfire royally. In the light of mana, I could see the many layers of enchantments meticulously laid on the otherwise plain boards. Structural reinforcement. Heat resistance. Kinetic mirror. Non-conductivity. Anti-oxidization…I gave up trying to chart them all, my eyes tiring in that web of tricks.
I got the gist of it: violence was clearly not the answer.
Using excessive force in such a constricted underground space came with the risk of a cave-in. Certainly, it was a test a pacifist would come up with, made to humble fighters.
So how was I supposed to get through?
For now, why don't we try this the way it was meant to be done.