Fallen Mage Regressor

Mal stuffed his satchel with basically every plant that he could think of. Airgrass, Elderroot, various seeds. Even a little bit of Cokane just in case he needed to distract somebody or maybe get someone eliminated from the competition for handling illegal magical herbs. He added some Fireglove that Cassandra had given him thanks to the connections of the school. He made sure that his dagger was sharpened, that his robes were in decent condition, then set out for Central Hall.

The last time around, he’d participated and hadn’t even made it past the first event.

That would change.

The building was already full to the brim. Elder students had shown up to watch, and junior ones were excited for the chance to participate. The teachers sat at the front of the hall on their raised section of the floor.

Puck stood up from his spot in the middle and smiled.

”Welcome, students,” he said. ”It’s a pleasure to see you all here.”

The students quieted down and Mal followed. He glanced around to see if there were any familiar faces.

Obviously, his circlemates had shown up. They’d been scattered about the campus when the call came in, all doing their own preparations, Mal imagined. Rolam was grinning widely, eyes practically sparkling with excitement. Philo looked more focused, and Mal could make out several books on the inside of his cloak. Lusia was dressed in her robes, having come as a student and not as a maid.

Mal also noted Hypode and Savaly’s appearance. Savaly was, as always, the very picture of poise and grace. The students next to her had looked away from Puck and were staring at her in open awe, one with knees so shaky that Mal half thought he’d fall to the ground and prostrate himself. Hypode, on the other hand, looked more nervous than Mal had ever seen. His hands shook just as fast as that one student with the knees. He glanced back at Mal, his eyes shot open, then he looked back at Puck. His hands shook even more than before.

The whole time, Puck had been talking about the history of the Exodi Triumph, its prestige in the world of wizardry, and the fact that it was the largest junior tournament among the academies, essentially the Centennial Wizard’s Cup but for third year and below students.

Right, third year. Mal wasn’t too concerned about the second years. Third years, however, had started on the path to becoming true adepts. Second years were still just learning the fundamentals of spellcasting, on the other hand.

There was no doubt in Mal’s mind that the third years would be the favorites to win. Mal, of course, would prove them all wrong.

He finished by mentioning the number of events. Three, apparently, thne—

”—To participate, please step forward and offer your name and year while standing on the teleportation circle.”

One by one, students stepped forward and approached a circle at the feet of the teachers’ table. There was a bright flash, and then the student would disappear into the air.

Mal got in line and took a deep breath.

”Wait, you’re participating?”

Mal looked back at the speaker. Rolam had lined up behind him and was staring at him in shock.

”I thought that you said this was dumb and silly and that you weren’t interested,” he said.

Mal shrugged. ”I changed my mind.”

”So that means we’re going to be competing against each other?” Rolam’s shock faded into a smile. ”I hope you know just because you’re our honored leader, that I won’t be holding back.”

”Of course.”

”I expect nothing less.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Mal caught Lusia staring at him with an implacable expression. From what he knew, she hadn’t been interested in participating either. But there was something about her eyes that had changed when she’d seen him.

Goodness, Mal thought. I do hope she hasn’t changed her mind because of me.

Eventually, the line trimmed down and reached Mal’s section. He stepped forward and into the teleportation circle and spoke.

”Malfrasius Patoal, first year.”

That familiar lurch that came about with teleportation hit him like a brick.

He blinked, and the next thing he knew, he was standing inside of a tent. There was a single post in the center pushing up on the middle. A harsh, whistling wind flapped the roof back and forth.

The interior of the tent was huge, enough room for all of the participants. And Mal was, much to his annoyance, directly in the middle of this huge crowd.

”I wonder what’s outside?” someone said. ”Did he ever actually mention what the first event would be?”

”No, he just talked about the history of the Triumph.”

Mal, of course, knew exactly what the first event would be and had prepared appropriately—though he hadn’t needed to try too hard.

The first event was mostly to thin out the competition and take care of people who absolutely did not belong here. All Mal would need to do was be among the top 50 out of 150. The top 33 percent. Given that the average first year student could basically only do push and pull effects, Mal was feeling fairly confident about his chances.

”All students, follow me.”

Vigil’s head poked out from above the crowd. He walked over to a flap at the front and held it open. The students shuffled out and toward the exit. As Mal got closer, the temperature dropped and he was hit by a chilly wind.

And it’s only going to get colder from there, he thought.

He stepped out and was greeted by the sight of a mountain range that stretched up to the heavens. The white, snow-capped peaks reflected the sun’s light off of it in a blistering blast of shine. They were on a rocky slope, made of gravel ground and with no plant life in sight.

”Welcome to Mount Siina,” Vigil said. ”The tallest mountain in Chama.” He paused. ”Technically the second tallest, but the first tallest is a little bit impractical for what we’re doing.”

One of the students next to Mal stared at the peak. ”Don’t tell me we’re supposed to climb that thing.”

Vigil scoffed. ”You’re not here to climb that thing. You’re here to conquer it.”

”Conquer? Why would we conquer—”

”We’re going to be starting a timer. You’ll have two days to get up as high as you can. The top 50 highest will advance to the second event. The rest are going to be sent back home in shame.”

”W—what if we run out of food, or water, or—?”

”Then you die,” Vigil shrugged. ”Exodi Academy is a dangerous place. Were you really expecting mercy?”

Mal knew this was a lie. Vigil and Igna would be monitoring the mountainside, ready to pull the students out if things got too dangerous.

And yet...

That same student who’d squeaked in fear clenched his fists and nodded.

Not a single one of them asked to be taken back. Anybody who could pass the entrance exam was made of stronger stuff than a wizard from another academy. Chama did not optimize for magical power, or for sheer performance—though that certainly played a part.

No, Mal thought. It optimizes for grit.

Vigil seemed to have the same thought, as he grinned with narrowed eyes.

”That’s the kind of expression I like to see,” Vigil said. ”Timer starts in 30 seconds. I expect to see a good showing.”

Mal double-checked his satchel. The Fireglove would be of particular use, it being an easy way to warm himself or defeat one of the magical beasts that populated the area.

20 seconds. He closed back his satchel and took one more deep breath. Around him, a few other students checked inside of their robes. One clever student had brought along an entire backpack, though Mal questioned if he had the endurance to carry it all the way up the mountain.

10 seconds.

A few third year students cast a spell on their clothing—probably something for cold protection. Among those students was Savaly. This didn’t surprise Mal too much. Mal also caught Philo pulling out one of his books, reading through it, then casting another touch-type spell with his fingers.

5 seconds.

Mal cracked his neck.

3.

2.

1.

Nearly half of the students broke into a full sprint toward the mountain. A cloud of dust kicked up from their run. A quarter took off at a jog. One student slid down the slope using a sled that had some sort of frictionless rune attached to the bottom.

And the rest walked.

Mal was among that group.

Two sets of footsteps came to his side.

He looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. One person was familiar, perhaps expected. The other had him a bit taken aback.

”Really? What are you doing here?” he said.

”I thought that my chances of survival would increase if I was by your side,” one said.

”It’s my duty to protect you,” Lusia said.

The two had spoken at the same time. Lusia’s gaze broke from Mal’s own and looked at the other speaker.

Mal found his face twisting into a grimace. Of all people…

Her?