Chapter 6: Chapter 5 - Entrance Ceremony

The auditorium was abuzz with activity, even before Thalos found his seat. Cliff was still asleep when he left their room, and he hoped, at the very least, that his roommate would make it by the time the ceremony started.

The big room could fit about eight hundred people in around forty rows. There were little ‘reserved’ signs on the first ten for students – five rows for the Army, four for the Church, and one for the Couriers. Some of his classmates had arrived before him, and, after being called over, he found himself sitting between Percy and a girl named Penny.

“Morning, Thalos. Where’s Cliff?” Percy asked him. He looked much better in their uniform than he had in that suit of his. He’d looked almost bloated, stuffed into it, but now it was easy to see that the timid boy was built solidly, like an oak. He wasn’t quite as tall as Thalos’s roommate, but he had to be nearly twice as thick.

“Hopefully awake by now,” Thalos replied, “but I wouldn’t be surprised if he was still sleeping. He had a long night.”

“Oh really? Where’d he drag you off to yesterday after dinner?” Percy asked.

“Into town, looking for a friend he’d made on the way here,” Thalos said, “by the time I left, he hadn’t found him, but he had struck up a conversation with a farmer and his wife making a delivery to the city. I begged off a few hours after the sun went down, and he wasn’t back until after I fell asleep.”

Percy shook his head. “That somehow doesn’t surprise me. He seems like the type to make friends with everyone he passes on the street.”

“Tell me about it,” Thalos muttered in reply. Both the boys had been victims of Cliff’s extroverted personality. Percy, when Cliff offered to loosen his suit and Thalos just a few minutes before, when the tall, loud boy had latched onto him as they waited in the check-in line.

From his other side, he felt a finger tap his shoulder. “You’re Thalos, right?” Penny asked him. He recalled her fight from the day before. She had a rather soft appearance, but she’d fought hard and well.

“Yeah,” Thalos replied, “And you’re Penny.”

The girl smiled at him. “That’s right! Oh – this is Nym.” She tugged on the next girl’s sleeve, and Nym, who was involved in some conversation on her other side, turned, giving Thalos an awkward wave that he returned. “She’s my roommate,” Penny explained.

“Ah,” Thalos said.

“Your roommate’s Cliff, right? That has to be a lot,” Penny said.

Thalos shrugged. “It’s not so bad, so far. It’s only been a day, but, well, it seems like it won’t be boring, at least.” Having spent most of his life wandering between cities with his grandfather, Thalos was not exactly an expert at holding conversation. In fact, that he was sitting between a pair of his peers talking relatively normally was surreal in itself. He was actually thankful he’d been placed with Cliff, who brushed over his awkwardness like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

“That makes sense, I guess,” Penny said. Her expression suddenly turned contemplative. “What do you think of his, ah, Gift?”

“What do you mean?” Thalos replied.

“Do you think it’s, um, real?” She asked sheepishly.

“Hmm,” Thalos said, pausing a moment to think. There was a lot to be said about Cliff’s Gift, but even after one day, Thalos was just about convinced. “I think so.”

Penny nodded, her eyes widening. “You should have seen him after my fight with Jenna yesterday – it was like, I don’t know, like-”

“Like he was an expert or something, right? He did the same thing with the Magimeter. One look, and he knew exactly how it worked.” Thalos shook his head. “I heard him muttering to himself as he watched you fight, it’s like his mind is skipping twenty steps at a time.”

“Right?” Penny said. “I’ve never heard of a Gift like that before.”

“Neither have I,” Thalos replied. And that was saying something. His grandfather was an expert on Magical Theory, and Thalos had spent his childhood listening to the old man tell him about all sorts of Gifts. He’d never heard of one that was completely limited to the mind. There were those that affected the mind, of course – he’d heard of a man who could increase his internal perception of time, effectively making him faster, as well as a handful of true empaths, to name a few – but he’d never heard of one that had zero external effect.

“Nym seems to think that it might just be some amount of genius that he’s convinced himself is a Gift, but Jenna said that Cliff doesn’t look like any genius she’s ever seen. Ah-” Penny said, blinking, “please don’t tell him she said that, I’m pretty sure she was just joking.”

Thalos chuckled. “I won’t, don’t worry.” Though he imagined Cliff would find the comment funny more than offensive - he’d probably agree, even.

There was an awkward moment until Penny spoke again. “Anyway, it’s good to meet you, Thalos, I hope we can have a good year!”

“Likewise,” Thalos replied, facing forward to wait until the ceremony started.

***

“Good morning, parents and friends, students and teachers. My name is Esmer Prinstrop, headmistress of The Marifond Federal Academy of Magic.” Thalos’s auntie looked positively tiny on the wide stage, but her voice, amplified by a microphone, boomed with personality and command. “As headmistress, it’s my pleasure welcome you all to the entrance ceremony for our humble Academy’s 71st class of cadets, seminarians, and apprentice Couriers.” She paused for a handful of cheers from overenthusiastic parents in the back half of the auditorium. “Before, I continue, I’d like to welcome a few special guests-”

“Thalos-” A whisper from his left. “Hey, Thalos!” He turned to see Cliff, leaning past an uncomfortable-looking Percy. He’d slipped into his seat just before Auntie Esmer walked on stage, clothes unkempt and hair a mess.

“Shush,” Thalos hissed back. He didn’t want to miss Auntie Esmer’s speech.

“Isn’t that the lady you were standing with at check-in yesterday?” Cliff asked.

Thalos breathed a frustrated sigh. “Yes,” he whispered, “now be quiet!” Cliff nodded, turning back towards the front.

“-and finally, of course, Major Leon Griest, representative of the Marifond Federal Army. Please, if you would, give a big hand to our esteemed guests for coming all this way.” A pause for applause, and a finger jabbed his shoulder.

He turned to see Cliff giving a questioning look. He pointed towards the stage, raising an eyebrow. It didn’t take Cliff’s Gift to figure out that he was asking how Thalos knew Auntie Esmer. He sighed, mouthing the word ‘later’.

When the applause died, she continued her speech. “It may seem commonplace now, to have three different organizations represented at the same academy, but, in reality, until seventy-five years ago, it would have been unheard of.” She paused. “For a thousand years, since the Great Rise, everything about Magic was a guarded secret, and opposing factions coveted each other’s knowledge jealously. Discoveries were made and held in vaults, and conflict led to generational grudges that motivated hundreds of years of hatred and violence. And then,” she continued, her voice lowering, “a hundred years ago, the world changed. Two twin brothers, one with a Gift and one without, sought to remove this barrier between them, and the result was the very first Magetool. Eager to spread their invention, they sent the plans all around the world, to the Church, every country, and even the Couriers. Of course, these two twin brothers who sought only to lift up the powerless underestimated the human appetite for violence. What followed was a five year arms race that boiled over into a series of bloody conflicts we all know as the Godhand Wars. Centuries-old grudges were brought to the forefront as the old powers threw a generation of Magetool-equipped men and women at each other for twenty years, reducing cities to slag and ending countless lives. The destruction was so thorough, the body count so high, that even today, the population of Marifond has not reached its pre-war high.” There was a pregnant pause as she let that fact hang in the air. In his travels with his grandfather, Thalos had seen some of the ruins – once prosperous cities, hollowed out to nothing more than skeletons, pockmarked with the scars of war.

“Finally, the exhausted peoples were spared of the horrors of war when the Hierophants gathered and, with the combined forces of the global Church, called for a unilateral ten year ceasefire. It was during this ceasefire that Academies like our own began to spring up all over. The advent of Magetools had, in many ways, evened the playing field. No longer was the use of magic restricted to the select few who were born with Gifts – now, nearly anyone could learn to use a Magetool competently and become a force for good and progress. And so, hoping to find the best and brightest, the factions came together to found the Marifond Federal Academy of Magic. But, more than education, this Academy was founded to make connections and build bridges. The trauma of the Godhand Wars demanded that we, as people, find some peace in the world, and that peace comes through the connections we make with each other. I was a student here, many years ago, and the friendships I made in my three years as a student have followed me my entire life. So, as your headmistress, as a graduate of this school, I want to you all to remember this: scholarly pursuits and tactical training, while important, are not the only reason you have come to our Academy. Just as important are the bonds you forge and the memories you make. If we keep these connections in mind, we can become leaders in carving the path forward as a country and as a people.” Another pause, and more applause, this time loud and enthusiastic. It was a familiar tale with a familiar theme, Thalos thought as he clapped. Learn from the mistakes of the past to build a peaceful future.

“Finally, I want to welcome all our incoming students. I’m excited to watch you grow and develop from children to adults. Thank you.” She beamed out over the crowd, and another thunderous round of applause echoed through the auditorium. The day before, Auntie Esmer had confessed that she’d inherited the speech from the previous headmaster, tweaking it slightly to her liking and barely updating it each year. Either way, it was a good speech.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Next,” she continued once the applause had died, “I would like to invite a representative from the incoming class, one of our newest seminarians, Vincent Reed!” She backed away from the podium applauding as one of the black-clad seminarians, a short, pudgy boy with curly orange hair, made his way up the stairs, paper clutched in shaky hands, before settling behind the microphone.

“Good – ah-” he started, flinching when his voice echoed throughout the room, “good morning, everyone. My name is Vincent Reed, one – one of the, ah, incoming seminarians for this year.” He coughed nervously. “I want to, um, thank the parents for coming to see our matriculation, the faculty for choosing me to make this speech, and my fellow students for allowing me to represent you.” Thalos couldn’t remember being asked whether this Vincent Reed could represent him, but then again, he also didn’t care.

“Power,” he continued, “is a burden.” Thalos blinked. “We talk as if it is a privilege, we talk as if it’s own reward. It’s both of those things, of course, but more than either of them, I think it’s a burden.” He paused, his voice gaining confidence as he continued his speech. “Many of you might think I’m exaggerating – how could something that makes us stronger weigh us down? But to those of you who doubt, I want you to imagine a scenario in which you have ultimate power. The power to choose who lives, and who dies.” He paused again to stare around the room with wide eyes. “Imagine you could snap your fingers, and all the evil people in the world simply fall down, dead. Would you do it?” Thalos swallowed, glancing down at his own fingers. “I’m sure some of you, the more idealistic ones, maybe, immediately decided they would. After all, what would be bad about removing evil from the world? But who decides what is good and what is evil? What if, I ask those people, you were the one who had to make that decision? Now, with a list of all a person’s actions, you must decide if they should live or die. Would you still snap your fingers?” To emphasize his point, he snapped loudly into the mic. The sharp noise echoed around the room angrily. “I’m not sure if I would or not. It may be that such a power would be too much of a burden for me. It would certainly be much easier to forget the power and live my life as if I did not have it. Much easier. But also a waste, if even a little good could be done with such power.” He paused again, much longer this time, and the silence hung awkwardly over the auditorium.

“Now,” he started again, “I know it might seem silly to talk about such a situation when none of us will ever have to face it, but it isn’t.” His voice had gained an almost angry edge. “We, the students of the Academy, enrolled here to be soldiers, protectors. At some point in all of our lives, we will be called upon to fight with others, and perhaps even kill. At that point, will we have a list of all their deeds to make the decision of whether they are good or evil?” His face was starting to turn red. “No! We will just have the burden of our own power and the choice of how to use it.” He glanced to his side, where the faculty was seated. “Our headmistress talked about how great it is that anyone can gain this power that was once restricted to the few, and I agree. When power is only in a few hands, the burden is too heavy. A single misstep can cause untold damage – but when power is spread around, there are more to offset those who would misuse their power. The burden still exists, but it is offset by others who would use their power responsibly. That is why we came to this academy, and that is what we should seek to become. Smarter, stronger, more responsible people who will not allow those that succumb to the burden of their power to bring about destruction around the world. I look forward to learning how to be that type of person with you. Thank you.” Abruptly finished, he nodded his head and quickly moved off the stage. Around the auditorium, a slow, hesitant applause began, but it never built to nearly the level it had for Auntie Esmer’s speech.

“Thank you, Vincent, very insightful.” Auntie Esmer said when she’d returned to the mic, beaming after the boy. She, at least, seemed pleased with his words. “Now, we will continue by listing the names of all our enrolling students. In a moment, I’ll call up this year’s advisors, and they will do a roll call for their program. Students, when you hear your name, please stand up.”

Vincent’s was an odd speech, heavy and moralizing when people wanted celebration and levity. But, in Thalos’s opinion, it was also an important one. His grandfather often lectured him on what it meant to be powerful. It meant choice and freedom and privilege, but most of all, it meant responsibility.

***

Four trails of white ceramic revealed themselves as Thalos dragged his fork through the gravy on the plate. He took another scoop of potatoes, shoving it into his mouth has the thumbed at his ring with his free hand.

“It’s odd being here, while the rest are out with their mommas and poppas,” Cliff said around a mouthful of his own potatoes. “Wish mine could’ve made it out here for the ceremony, but oh well.”

“They’re too busy,” Percy said with a nod. He’d already cleared his plate. “You think we can get seconds?”

“Ask Ralph,” Deb said with a shrug. She was a skinny girl with warm, straw-colored skin, long black hair, and almond eyes. Percy nodded and rose from his seat, bringing his plate with him into the dining room’s adjacent kitchen. Ralph was the name of the dorm’s cook, an affable man who seemed to take even more joy in his cooking than they did in their eating – and that was saying something, considering how delicious the food was. “You guys notice it’s just us four. Again?” This was, coincidentally, the same group that had been excluded from the previous day’s sparring for not having their own PMTs.

“The scholarship kids plus Thalos,” Cliff said with a smile. “Much better than being alone, at least.”

“Why are you with us, Thalos?” Deb asked, “You told us yesterday that you’re not here on scholarship. Your parents too busy to make it out?”

The food was suddenly sour in his mouth. He swallowed slowly before responding. “My parents died when I was very young. I spent most of my time with my grandfather, but he died a few months back.”

Deb stared at him with a horrified expression. “It’s alright,” Thalos continued, waving his hand in front of him, “I mean, I don’t even remember them – and, well, I was happy with my grandfather, until he – uh…” he trailed off, not sure where he was going.

“Are you trying to make her feel miserable for an innocent question?” Cliff asked, “Because you’re doing a right fine job if it.”

Thalos looked between the two. “No! I just-” He didn’t know what to say.

“I’m so sorry,” Deb said, “I didn’t know – I was just trying to-”

“No, it’s fine,” Thalos said, shaking his head, “I should be the one apologizing.”

“Who’s apologizing to who?” Percy said, sitting back down, plate stacked high with food.

“Both. To each other,” Cliff said with a grin, “you missed it. It was very awkward.”

“Right,” Percy said hesitantly, glancing around the table before eagerly setting into his food.

“So,” Thalos said, scrambling for a topic to push past the awkwardness, arriving at something he’d been curious about for the last day. “how did you guys get your scholarships? Was there a test or something?”

“Yes,” Deb said at the same time Cliff and Percy said, “No.” The three scholarship kids looked at each other, confused.

“What do you mean, you didn’t have a test?” Deb asked.

“I didn’t,” Percy replied, “Mine came from a recommendation from the mayor.”

“A recommendation?” Cliff said, “I had an interview, plus a demonstration.”

“So wait,” Thalos said, putting it together, “you each did something different to get your scholarship?”

“I guess so,” Deb said, “I had to take a written test and write an essay. You needed a minimum score to qualify for the scholarship – my dad’s the head librarian of the Crestfall Public Library, so I grew up around books. That’s the only reason I passed.”

“I sound like a yokel by comparison,” Percy said, “every year my village has some competitions around the new year, and the mayor writes a recommendation letter on the behalf of the winner. Usually it’s just a ceremonial thing, but I guess this year, her letter was enough to convince them to give me a scholarship.”

“What kind of competitions?” Cliff asked.

“That’s the rub, isn’t it? It was mostly physical stuff – boxing, wrestling, things like that,” Percy said, scratching his cheek with embarrassment, “it’s not much compared to an actual test.”

“Nonsense,” Deb said, “I just got lucky that my dad’s job gave me free access to books, you had to work hard.”

“I think reading a book is harder work than hauling hay,” Percy muttered with a shake of his head.

“What about you, Cliff?” Deb asked.

“A bit closer to Percy’s than yours, I guess. My poppa wrote the mayor a letter about my Gift, hoping for a job or something, I think. A month later I got an invitation to demonstrate my skills in an interview. I brought my momma’s sewing machine, took it apart, and put it back together.” He shrugged. “The lady was so impressed, she asked me to fix her car – I said yes, of course. To me it was as much an excuse to get a good look at a vehicle that wasn’t a tractor as anything else. An hour later she gave me the choice of working for the government then and there or coming to school on scholarship in the fall.” He smiled. “Every kid on a farm wants to grow up to be a Courier, so it was an easy choice.”

“Huh,” Thalos said, “I wonder why it was so different.”

“I’ve got a theory,” Cliff said. “Deb here is from Crestfall, if her poppa’s job is any indicator. I’m from Minton, and Percy, what’s the name of that town you’re from?”

“Thatchtop,” Percy said, “It’s just north of Clearspring.”

“Right,” Cliff said with a nod, “Three different cities, Clearspring, Crestfall, and Minton, three different ways of getting in – simple enough.”

“That seems… odd,” Thalos said as he thought about it.

“How do you figure?” Cliff asked.

“It’s unfair,” Deb said with a frown. She stabbed her fork in the fatty remnant of a piece of pork on her plate. “If any of us had been from any other town, who’s to say that we would even be here?” She shook her head. “It just seems like it’s based on luck, when it should be an achievement. It’s stupid.”

“Now hold on,” Percy protested, “It’s not the school’s fault that things are inconsistent – if anything, we should blame the cities!”

“It’s the system’s fault, not the school or the cities!” Deb replied, “Those speeches today, they got me so mad. I mean, they talk all about how the power has been spread out and finally anyone can succeed.”

“I mean, we’re here, aren’t we?” Percy said, “I’m not sure about you, but without the school, I certainly would never have gotten the chance to have my own PMT.”

Deb shook her head, gesturing at the empty room. “Look around you! We may be here, but the Percy in Crestfall, the Cliff in Clearspring? They wouldn’t have made it at all. They said power has come to everyone, but really they mean those who have enough money, influence, or luck.”

“Still, it’s better than it was,” Percy replied, “besides, anyone can enlist into the military or join the Church.” He was starting to get flustered, Thalos could see. Deb seemed rather opinionated, but Percy seemed more the type to squirm if he was put too far on the spot.

“Yes, but who commands the Army and the Church? The ones who came through this Academy, the rich and influential.”

“And us,” Percy said, slapping the table with a loud crack. His eyes widened at the noise. “Sorry – I don’t mean to get heated, it’s just-” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be ungrateful for the opportunity I’ve been given, you understand?”

Deb sighed. “Of course I do, Percy, but, I don’t know, you can be grateful but still keep a critical eye open.” She turned suddenly to Cliff, who had been uncharacteristically silent through the whole argument. “What do you think, Cliff? You’re another scholarship kid.”

“Hmm,” Cliff said, leaning back in his chair, “It’s a good argument for sure.” He paused, stretching his shoulders tiredly. “My poppa once told me that the anthill’s a problem for the ants, the nest is a problem for the birds, but the crops, they’re our problem.” He sat forward with a grin, looking between the two of them. “I didn’t dwell on that part of the speeches so much as what Vincent said. We’ve got to make the most of our own power, do what we can to make the world a better place. Maybe someday we’ll be in control and we can think about such big problems, but for now, let’s leave the crops to the farmers – us ants should stick to our anthills.”

“That’s what you took from his speech?” Thalos started, “What about his hypothetical? What would you do if you became as strong as Vince said in his speech. Would you snap your fingers?”

Cliff gave him an odd look. “I already told you – I’m not worried about it right now.”

“But if it did happen,” Thalos insisted, “Right now, you gain the power of life or death with a snap of your fingers. What would you do?”

Cliff stared at him a moment before clicking his tongue. “I might snap my fingers,” he said, “or I might not. It’s impossible to say before the situation comes up. That’s my point, really. We can think long and hard about what we should do and what we could do, but until it’s what we have to do, I’m not sure our thoughts really matter.” He paused to think. “Is that a good enough answer for you?”

Thalos stared at his roommate for a second, spinning the ring from his finger. It had been a gift from his grandfather, and it always reminded him of their conversations. Finally, after a tense moment, he nodded. “Right, Cliff. I was just curious. Besides, it’s not like anyone would ever have that kind of power, anyway.”

“Of course,” Cliff said. He stood up from the table, gathering his plate in his hands. “Here, give me your dishes. I’ll bring them back to Ralph. While I’m gone, start thinking of something we can do to entertain ourselves while everyone else is out with their parents. That, I think, is a much more ant-sized problem.”