Chương 29: Results Day (2)

"I have seen strong people break, and broken people stand. Refusing to stay down matters more than strength." – Nivafi Filo, deputy chief healer at Central Mana Hospital Teacher Daisor paused briefly, letting the class settle into silence. A few students still whispered.

"It has to be Nemirie."

"Maybe Velron?"

"No, Nemirie topped written and coordination..." Arla sat very still. Teacher Daisor glanced at the scroll.

"Nemirie Qanza," he announced.

"Well done! You have earned the highest rank in the entire academy." He began clapping first. The class followed. Some students clapped with genuine admiration. Others looked resigned, as if they had known the answer before Daisor ever opened the scroll. The Rumiosi twins grudgingly clapped a few times too, though Sikkar looked like every clap personally offended him. No one could really deny it though. Nemirie had beaten them all. Arla looked down at her desk.

"First in the whole academy..." she muttered.

"I never even had a chance, did I?" Nemirie's smirk deepened slightly. Aloric thought through the results and did not find it hard to understand why. First in the written test. First in the coordination test with Yibleen. Strong enough in mana usage to nearly take first there too. He had seen Nemirie score almost as well as Ralovit during throwing accuracy practice in earlier classes.

She was not particularly strong in sparring, at least not compared to people like Velron, but her other scores must have been high enough to cover that easily. The last practice match where she and Arla had ended up pulling each other's hair flashed through his mind. Maybe not every part of the exam had gone perfectly for her. But enough had. That was what mattered for the final rank. Aloric looked at the clan students around him.

Most of them still looked tense, but not with the same hollow fear twisting inside him. For a moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like if his own score had been high enough to be placed in a team with people like them. Arla and Hovaru were the students he was most comfortable talking with. Being assigned with them would not be bad at all. Ralovit cursed too much, but he was reliable in his own way. Yibleen treated him kindly, even if he still sometimes got tongue-tied around her.

It would have been nice. A real squad. A proper instructor. Teammates he already knew. Then the thought collapsed under its own weight. He did not even know if he had passed yet... And even if he had, there was almost no chance his score was high enough to put him anywhere near the students Daisor had just praised. He had briefly felt proud of his coordination test score after the exam. Fifteen scrolls had sounded decent until he heard what others had done. And Classroom One was not the whole academy.

More than two dozen final-year classes had taken the same graduation exam. There were clan students in lower-numbered classrooms too—students with tutors, training halls, private lessons, and years of preparation behind them. Maybe Perilia was still right. Maybe he had done enough to pass. But a good rank? A good squad? That was a different thing altogether. The most likely result was simple. He would pass barely, if he passed at all, and be sent to the Nourim reserve force. No personal instructor. No proper squad.

Just library access, reserve assignments, and whatever progress he could claw together on his own. Still... If he passed, that would be enough for today. Even as a member of the reserves, he could use the manaweaver library. He could study, even if reading still gave him headaches. Those headaches had been getting a little less severe over the years. Maybe, if he kept pushing, they would eventually fade completely. If he worked hard enough, maybe he could reach Tarim by the time he turned twenty.

That would still be a good result. Perilia would probably become Siurim by then, just to make sure he could never catch up and brag properly, but that was fine. She was Perilia Sigast —the top ranked of the academy for her year. She had always been far ahead of him anyway. Aloric breathed out slowly. He had come this far. He was not going to give up now. Teacher Daisor's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Now that I have announced the top scorers in each section and the overall first rank, I will announce the students who have passed the graduation exam and have qualified to become registered manaweavers of Korsivir. I will read the names in order of the final rank." The classroom went so quiet Aloric could hear his own pulse. Teacher Daisor looked down at the scroll.

"Nemirie Qanza. Velron Rudox. Ralovit Vayot..."

"Wait, wait," Sikkar interrupted. Teacher Daisor paused and looked at him. Sikkar stared at the scroll in the teacher's hands.

"I am not even in the top three? How's that even possible?" Sulia turned toward him at once.

"Shut up. My name should have been there before yours!" Before Sikkar could give a retort, Daisor's voice cut through the room.

"Enough, both of you. Your names will come when I reach your rank. Until then, stay quiet and listen." Sikkar grumbled under his breath. Daisor continued.

"Arla Farritz. Sulia Rumiosi. Sikkar Rumiosi." Sulia immediately smirked at her brother.

"Told you! I scored better than you."

"By one rank," Sikkar snapped.

"One rank is enough."

"It means nothing!"

"It means I won." The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"This is the last time I am warning you two," Daisor said sharply." Be quiet!" Both twins faced forward, Sulia looking smug and Sikkar looking like the universe had stopped making sense. Teacher Daisor read the next names.

"Yibleen Delacie. Hovaru Yaboli." Yibleen's hands flew to her mouth, her eyes shining. Hovaru grinned and raised one fist lazily in the air.

"That's nice, I guess," he said. A few students laughed, while Daisor kept reading through the list.

"Veyla Kasren. Jorun Mavik. Tressa Halvori..." The names continued. Every name changed someone's life. Some students grinned in relief. Some let out shaky breaths. One boy at the back punched the air in victory, hard enough that he nearly hit the student beside him. A girl near the window started crying the moment her name was called. Aloric sat very still. His name had not come yet. It was fine... It had to be fine. He had never expected to be near the top. He just needed to hear his name before the list ended.

Daisor read more names as he rolled the scroll open.

"Loran Vesse. Markel Dovan. Iriya Fost. Garlan Saye..." Aloric's hands curled under the desk. Come on...! Teacher Daisor had already called the names of nearly half the class. Maybe more. Aloric could not count properly anymore. He could not have failed... He had done enough. He had to have done enough!

"Mevin Olar. Rosto Qale. Harna Pellik. Aloric Sigast. Soren Vell..." The list kept moving. The names continued. But Aloric had already stopped hearing them. For a moment, he only stared at the front of the room. Had Daisor really said his name? His fingers loosened. He had passed. The thought came slowly, then all at once. I passed... I am going to become a registered manaweaver of Korsivir... His vision blurred before he could stop it. Arla turned slightly from the desk in front of him.

Her own expression was still subdued, but when she saw his face, she gave him a small smile.

"Didn't I say you would pass?" Aloric tried to answer, but his throat felt tight.

"Thanks," he managed. Arla's smile grew a little.

"You should wipe your eyes." Aloric blinked, then quickly dragged his sleeve across his face. He was crying in class. Wonderful. But for once, he could not even be angry at himself for it.

"You did well too," he said quietly.

"Second in the whole academy in the written test... that's amazing. Don't worry about Nemirie. I don't think anyone understands how she manages it." Arla glanced toward the green-haired girl. Nemirie sat calmly with her arms crossed, looking as if first place was simply where she belonged. Arla sighed.

"That girl is impossible..." Then she turned back to face the front. Aloric looked down at his desk, still trying to steady himself. He had to tell Perilia. She would be proud. She had been certain he would pass, but now he could actually say it. Not hope it. Not guess it. Say it! Teacher Daisor eventually reached the end of the scroll. By then, the classroom had split into two kinds of silence. The relieved silence of those who had heard their names. And the heavy silence of those who had not.

A few students stared at their desks. One girl near the side was crying quietly. A clanless boy near the window kept looking at Daisor as if waiting for him to open another scroll to continue the list. There were no more names. Teacher Daisor lowered the scroll.

"For those whose names were not called," he said gently, "I know this hurts. But your scores were just short of what is required to graduate this year. You should report back to the academy in two weeks' time to repeat the final year, if you so choose. Your new class placement will be announced then." The room stayed quiet. Daisor's voice softened.

"Do not treat this as the end. You have another year. Use it well. Ask for help. Work harder. And pass next time." One of the clanless students swallowed.

"What happens if we fail again next year?" Teacher Daisor's expression tightened.

"You should not begin the year by thinking of failure," he said.

"But you do have the right to know. If a student fails the graduation exam twice, mana-locking runes are placed on their body to permanently restrict their access to mana. After that, they live as civilians within Korsivir and are not allowed to leave the city walls." Someone let out a shaky breath. Daisor continued, still gentle but firm.

"That rule exists because incomplete mana training is dangerous, both to the student and to the people around them. It also protects the city and the academy's knowledge from leaving Korsivir through someone desperate or vulnerable to foreign influence." A girl who had failed stood abruptly and hurried out, covering her face. No one laughed. Aloric watched her go, his own relief turning heavy for a moment. That could have been me... Teacher Daisor watched the door for a second, then faced the class again.

"For everyone who passed," he said, " congratulations! I knew you could do it. I am proud of you all!" This time, the room erupted. Cheers. Clapping. Laughter. A few students slammed their hands on their desks. Ralovit whooped loudly enough that Nemirie glanced his way in surprise. Yibleen was crying again, but with a smile this time. Some of those who had failed quietly gathered their things and left while the others celebrated. Daisor waited until the noise faded before raising one hand.

"I know some of you may be even happier that I can no longer give you surprise tests." That earned a burst of laughter.

"You were excessive with those," Sulia said.

"They were educational," Daisor replied.

"They were evil," Ralovit muttered.

"They were useful," Daisor chuckled.

"You only hated those because you were never ready for them." The class laughed again. Then Daisor continued.

"Those who passed will return to the academy in three days for squad allocation. I have requested our Vazaag, Sir Ganisaar, to address you that day if his duties allow it. He hasn't been able to speak to the last few graduating batches, so if he gives us his time, listen carefully." A murmur moved through the room. The Vazaag? Aloric sat a little straighter. Even hearing Sir Ganisaar's name made the room feel more serious.

The Vazaag of Korsivir did not personally appear for ordinary academy matters like graduation. Then again, this year's batch did have Nemirie Qanza and her rune-barrier, the undefeated sparring champion Velron Rudox, Yibleen's mana-sensing talent, and several other students who had performed unusually well. Maybe Teacher Daisor simply thought this class had earned the request. The teacher continued, "You will also receive your rank-marker runes soon.

The process should begin around squad allocation day, but it may take up to a week to get those done for everyone. Rank-markers are extremely complex runes, and the city's rune specialists have many duties, so do not worry if yours is not placed on the first day." A few students glanced at their inner left wrists. Aloric did too. For now, the skin there was bare. Soon, if everything went properly, a rune would be marked there. Invisible unless fed mana. Glowing blue when activated. Nourim. A Nourim of Korsivir.

Proof that he finally belonged. The thought sent a strange thrill through him. Daisor rolled the scroll closed.

"That is all for today. Once again, congratulations to those who passed. For those who did not, I expect to see you next year. Do not waste the chance. There will not be another after that." He picked up the official scroll, took one last look at Classroom One, and left. For a few seconds, no one moved. Then the room broke apart. Chairs scraped back. Students stood and cheered. Some hugged each other. Some shouted across the room.

Those who had passed were too relieved to stay quiet, while those who had failed moved more slowly, their faces lowered as they slipped out one by one. No one had brought bags today. There had been no lessons—only results. So the room emptied faster than usual. Aloric stood with the rest, but his legs still felt strangely light. He had passed... The thought kept returning, bright and unbelievable. As they moved into the corridor, the clan students began splitting into their usual cliques.

Some were already talking about squad allocations and instructors. Others argued over ranks. Someone claimed he would definitely get a Siurim instructor. Someone else laughed at him for dreaming too high. Aloric kept near the side of the corridor. He had mostly resigned himself to the reserves. That was all right. For now, at least. The only thing that mattered today was that he had passed. He would get access to the manaweaver library from now on. He could keep training. Keep learning.

Maybe in a year or two, if he worked hard enough, a place might open in a real squad. But a place opening up in a squad usually meant someone had left. Or died. That wasn't exactly good luck. Aloric pushed the thought away. Whatever happened later, he had reached this point. The headaches he got while studying had not vanished, but they had grown weaker over the years. Maybe if he kept pushing, they would fade completely one day. He had come this far.

He was not going to let one below-average rank decide his future.