There was a chill in the air on the day the Saberwyn Academy held its open entrance exams.

  The chill began outside the Academy, riding the winds from far outside Saberwyn City, far outside civilization where the touch of humanity could hardly be found.

  The trees in the Forest of Rot groaned and the branches whipped as the chill ripped through. It navigated the bustling streets of Saberwyn City, causing people to remain indoors or others to cling tightly to their warm cups before the chill settled onto the sprawling lawn of the Academy proper.

  It was there on the stone walkway that Madeline Le Torneau shivered and tightened her cloak.

  Her cloak was thin, an inappropriate garment for the weather but she had nothing else. She scrunched the cloak together to hide the holes in its scratchy fabric. She’d grown up poor, nearly destitute, but she didn’t need to broadcast that to the world.

  Especially not today.

  Another applicant made their way inside the castle. Madeline had been standing outside for several hours watching person after person enter the castle. Not a single person came out. Just inched forward.

  Failure would not be an option for her today. She would get accepted into the Academy and there was nothing else to it. Failure meant dishonouring her parents' memories. Failure meant a revenge oath unfulfilled.

  The line itself wound with hopefuls, mostly young faces from all around the Saberwyn Empire. She noticed a throng of people who must have been from Senatorum as nobody else would wear such pompous hats in such wind and cold. There were those two heads taller and wide like a doorway who must be from Bladescar and those with a lounging alertness that said they were from the northwest, either Voltaris or Griffhollow or even further northwest at Crownsgate where the ocean met the coast.

  Urging herself to remain focused, she looked down at her feet and shut the noise out. Plans made their way through her head. Proper things to say and to whom.

  She looked up and scowled when one man caught her attention. Like her, he was alone. Madeline locked onto his brilliant blue eyes with interest and looked away quickly, dropping her expression when she noticed him staring right back at her. She’d never seen hair so white on anyone near her age, but combined with his eyes and his easy confidence…calling him simply beautiful seemed to be an insult somehow.

  She shook and cleared her head.

  While she waited she rehearsed her story. She’d done this particular dance dozens of times, but now that the most important hour of her life lay in front of her, another time through seemed prudent. She’d dyed the bottom third of her honey blonde hair into deep black streaks after the Grinnrock fashion. Unfortunately the Grinnrockers also wore black face makeup, an upside down triangle underneath each eye that extended halfway down the cheek. It took Madeline seven tries, a second trip to the market and the rest of her money to get right.

  Her stomach growled. She ignored it.

  Madeline was so deep in thought, she didn’t notice the next person enter the castle and a space open up in front of her in the queue. A gentle tap on the shoulder snapped her back to reality.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled without turning around. Feet met stone and before long she occupied the open space, snuggling her cloak tighter. The chill was getting worse.

  “It’s okay. I’m feeling the same way,” the person continued. “I think it’s nerves. I’m not trying to brag but I graduated from my university with pretty good grades so I’m feeling good but all I’ve ever wanted to do was come here and learn. Is it true that you only get one chance at passing the exam? Where are you from?”

  “I, uh,” Madeline stumbled over her words, not sure which question to answer first. She turned around and the girl nodded her head before Madeline could complete her sentence.

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  The girl kept going. “You’re from Grinnrock. I’ve never met anyone from Grinnrock before, but I have heard it’s not unheard of that they send people to the Academy whenever there’s someone with enough talent. Huh. ‘Heard it’s not unheard of.’ That's a silly way to phrase that. My name is Talia. What’s yours?”

  The first thing Madeline noticed about Talia besides her inability to process her nerves quietly was the utter difference in quality of attire. Talia’s scuff-free boots, her form fitting top and her sturdy cloak all looked like they’d cost more money than Madeline had seen in one place at the same time before. Talia had wavy black hair and big eyes, but they fit her face in a way that accentuated her beauty rather than diminished it.

  “I’m Madeline. Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too. I hope we’re going to get in soon. I’m starting to get cold. But I’m sure you’re used to the cold with Grinnrock being on the coast and all. That’s probably why you’re wearing such a thin cloak. Am I right? Do you know what affiliation you want?”

  Madeline turned and walked ahead again to fill the newly formed gap in the queue. No, that’s not the reason for her thin cloak. Also no, she didn’t know which of the five affiliations she’d sign for, assuming any of them wanted her. She wasn’t so arrogant to believe she’d have her choice. An unknown like her would be lucky to get one offer.

  She told Talia that, evidently they were friends now in the shorter woman's mind. Talia frowned. “We’re all unknowns at the start.”

  Madeline knew for a fact that was false. Places like the Saberwyn Academy would undoubtedly be lousy with nepotism and politics. Still, only one place in the Empire offered her the chance for revenge so she’d smile and nod through whatever bullshit came her way.

  “True. What affiliation are you hoping for?” Madeline asked, finding the conversation helpful in distracting her from the cold.

  Talia hemmed. “My father met my mother in the Hurricane Halls. So I’m sure they’d be disappointed if I didn’t become a Storm Sorceress. Assuming they even offer me a slot. My storm magic is my worst field by far.” Her tone told Madeline her level of displeasure at this information.

  Despite her own problems, Madeline felt a touch of sympathy for Talia. In a twisted way, they had a similar motivation for being here.

  The affiliations themselves were broken down into five specialties. Storm, Energy, Sensory, Life and Death.

  Another candidate entered the stone castle and the girls shuffled forward. Wouldn’t be long now.

  Talia opened her pack and pulled out a large package wrapped in wax paper. It contained the basics, bread, meat, and cheese but the bread looked soft, the meat looked fresh and the cheese looked old. With an effort and a watering mouth, Madeline looked away. “Do you mind if I eat?” Talia asked. “I hope it’s not rude, I just haven’t had anything since breakfast and, well, you know how it is.”

  Madeline did know. Her last meal was the day before last. She’d had to make the choice between getting her makeup exactly right or lunch and well, only one of those options advanced her plan. “Have at it.”

  “Would you like half? They packed me way too much. I always tell the chef that he's packing too much but he never listens. Today he told me to share my lunch with a friend. He says there’s no better way to meet someone than sharing food. But I think he's biased due to his profession. Good guy, that Banjo.”

  Madeline had a hard time following the torrent of words coming from Talia. Madeline’s time would be better spent mentally preparing for the exam to come. But, now that food entered the equation, her stomach would not be denied. “Are you sure?”

  Talia’s face lit up. “Yes, please. Plus, I’ll feel weird eating alone.” She tore off a large piece of the bread, split the meat and ripped the cheese then handed it to Madeline who tried to not seem too eager before taking a big bite.

  “Thank you,” Madeline said between appropriately sized bites.

  As they ate, they advanced up the line until they were on the very steps of the castle. From up close, the castle looked a lot bigger. She took a deep breath in, then exhaled slowly, steadying herself. A massive series of interconnected towers stretched as wide and as far as her eyes could see.

  Even Talia was silent as they took their first steps up into the castle proper. Waiting. Watching another person get called in.

  Then they were at the front of the line.

  Talia gripped Madeline’s arm when a severe looking woman emerged from the front entrance. The woman carried a clipboard and introduced herself as Ruthann. When she spoke, her voice was low and her head bobbled such that her hair moved even though she’d chosen to wear it in a bun.

  “Next,” she barked. Madeline stepped up. “Name, age, and city?”

  “Madeline Le Torneau, age twenty-one, I’m from Grinnrock.”

  Ruthann looked up. “So you are. Follow me.”

  Talia called a good luck wish but Madeline barely heard. These steps were the steps that would define the rest of her life. Ruthann led Madeline through the halls, winding left and right on a path she’d clearly walked dozens of times. Torches lit the halls and provided warmth, such that by the time Madeline made it to her destination she had half a mind to remove her cloak. She kept it on.

  Ruthann stopped outside a room with an intricate stone archway and an open wooden door. “Inside. Interview will be first.”

  “Uh, okay. Thanks,” Madeline said.

  “What are you waiting for? Get moving, there are plenty of people to get through today. Shoo!”

  Madeline’s eyes widened when Ruthann got closer to her, waving her hands and threatening to shove her through the door herself. By the look of the woman, she could and would do it.

  In an ideal world, Madeline would have met her interviewer with grace and dignity. But for Madeline, there was no such thing as an ideal world.