27. Preliminary Exam

27. Preliminary Exam

Morgana was a bad liar.

Giles had deduced that at the beginning of their conversation. To be fair, most people weren't good liars—not enough to fool him, at least. He'd been raised in the Auralis Court, and while he'd left behind that dreadful politicking for more meaningful pursuits, his upbringing remained. He knew how to read faces. Actions. How to look at what wasn't said as much as what was.

And this young woman?

She was lying through her teeth.

Not in a direct way. In omission and misdirection more than anything. But if a person wasn't being honest, they were being dishonest. Hence, she was lying, for all she might not be telling untruths. Though there might be some of that, too.

It was almost endearing how bad she was at it. Of course, if Giles respected skilled liars, he wouldn't have sworn off Court matters and set off halfway across the world. No, her lack of ability in that regard meant nothing to him—except perhaps that it was a convenience he appreciated.

He respected thought. Ingenuity. Creation. And at least by initial impressions, Morgana had a keen mind, especially for someone so young, a woman in her early twenties. He valued that many times more than how well she could navigate a conversation.

He didn't know what to make of her claims. Experience in spell design, yet no association with the Designers? There were plenty of remote, even untouched places across the vast world, places even the Violet Spire's archives would contain only a footnote in some decaying journal describing, but such places tended not to have deeply scientific attitudes—and if indeed they did, then their progress would be far behind the Designers'. It had taken decades of collaboration for their field to even begin making breakthroughs, and that was with the joint effort of every appropriately curious mage across a quarter the civilized world.

Regardless, Giles had the distinct impression this woman knew more than she was letting on. A lot more. And how was that possible? Was she lying about previous contact with the Designers? And if she was lying, then what was the extent of her knowledge? Was she truly interested in joining, or was it a ruse? Was something else entirely going on, which Giles simply didn't have the context to guess at?

He considered Morgana's question: if she wanted to join, how would it work?

For a normal initiate, it would be a simple affair. There were a number of texts detailing the basics of spell design. Giles had several copies; he would fetch one, pass it off to her, and reconvene a week later to ask her a series of questions. A test of her devotion, to see whether this was a passing fancy or if she had a genuine interest in the field. If she couldn't study a straightforward text and learn from it, then there was no point in her pursuing membership.

But this was obviously not a standard case.

"It depends," Giles eventually said. "As I said, our organization has a hierarchy. Normally, I would assign you an introductory text and, sometime later, quiz you on what you learned. After corresponding with leadership, I would have the authority to deem you a full member. Over time and through contribution, you would rise in our ranks and have further access to our more sensitive resources."

"Oh," Morgana said, disappointed. He could tell she didn't want the process to be so lengthy; she had greater and more immediate ambitions. She wished to have access to their archives that very day, if at all possible—which it wasn't, but that was the desire plain on her face. He'd seen the way she'd been looking at his spellbook.

"But I'm under the impression you aren't some stark initiate, and that perhaps you could pass one of our novice exams without a study period," Giles said mildly. "It would still require correspondence to establish you as an official member, but we could accelerate the formalities, perhaps." He tilted his head. "Would you be interested?"

"Oh. Sure, then."

He departed, taking the spiraling staircase to the second floor of the Mage's Association. There were a few [Mages] inside, so he kept ascending. When he'd reached a floor where he was alone, he pulled out his [Storage Ring]. He didn't keep copies of the initiate exam within the Association itself; that would be ridiculous.

And he'd lied earlier. Technically speaking, he did have a copy on hand. But keeping a storage ring a secret was common sense. Giles could more than defend himself, but he wished to avoid the attention it would draw—and the potential thievery.

The ring was only the second most expensive thing on his person, and by an enormous margin. He fiddled idly with the hourglass necklace hidden underneath his shirt. Insurance, should the worst happen. He was far from home and a person of some importance. While he had few enemies of his own, he had plenty through association.

Waving his hand in the ring's activation gesture, a black rift opened. He rummaged through his neatly organized materials before locating the initiate's exam. He withdrew three sheets of paper and prompt closed the spatial rift.

When he returned downstairs, Morgana was staring at his opened spellbook with a rapt, nearly predatory expression—so distracted she didn't notice him approaching. Her hands were twitching on the table, as if trying to, against her mental commands, reach out and start turning pages.

He had forgotten he'd left the book unattended. A blunder on his part. There were several sensitive designs within, like the one Morgana had taken an obvious interest in. Though none were extremely so. Still, his colleagues would be upset if he were to lose the book. Or have unassociated [Mages] studying them, as Morgana seemed a few seconds from being unable to stop herself from trying.

Giles was mostly amused as he sat back down at the table, and Morgana jumped at his arrival. That sort of hungry interest was an excellent quality in a student. He found it endearing. Which wasn't to say he wouldn't have been annoyed should he have walked down to see her nosily flipping through. Interest was good—rudeness and a lack of control wasn't.

He slid the three sheets of paper in front of her, followed by a pen and inkwell. He found himself immensely relieved that the exam had no heading. If it had made mention of being an adept's exam rather than an initiate's or novice's, that would have thrown a snarl into his plan. Fortunately, it contained only questions, no preamble. As a matter of fact, that was because it was a draft exam. Giles had been working on updating the previous version for the newest generation of applicants. Spell design was a constantly evolving field, after all.

Morgana's brow furrowed as her eyes raked across the paper, reading the first question.

"Feel free to take your time," Giles said. "And, of course, there are other matters we would need to discuss if you're interested in joining. But this would be the preliminary step."

Morgana didn't seem to hear him. She was focused on the exam. Her expressions were fully on display, forgetting to guard herself even as insufficiently as before. Confusion, curiosity, blatant interest, hesitation, and reinvigorated fascination flicked across her face, one after the other. It was amusing to watch the rapid transitions.

She picked up her pen, hesitated a second longer, then started writing. The first question was open-ended about the nature of runes—it required a factual description and then speculation on weights, combinations, interactions, and definitions.

Giles was curious to see how she would respond, but he set his interest aside; he would hardly interrupt her between each question. Pulling his spellbook back and picking up his pen, he returned to his work. Once Morgana had finished with her so-called 'novice's' exam, Giles would have plenty of opportunity to analyze the strange young [Mage]'s responses.

More importantly, perhaps he could deduce a few answers about her situation, without giving away that he knew something was up.