Page 101
Story: The King's Man 1
Exhausted but relieved, I lean back in the chair and gaze up at the star-studded ceiling window. It’s as if my forefathers and River are cheering me on.
I must have dozed off, because when morning arrives, I’m still curled in the chair, my gloved hands cushioning my face. I scribble an apology for the vase, finish the teas from the scattered cups, and rush towards the scholar prefecture.
Outside the gates, Akilah paces in the fresh snow. Her face lights up with relief when she spots me, but she doesn’t hesitate to give me a sharp slap on the arm. “I was worried you’d been devoured by pompous pricks.”
I grin. “Have you no faith in me?”
She grumbles, “Just none in them.” She hands me a breakfast bundle and extra blankets. I take ten minutes on a canal bench, wrapped in those blankets, to eat with her while she coos and claps at my recounting of the night’s events. She asks about my new gloves, and I find myself skimming over that time with Quin, jumping to the end of the night.
“You think someonestoleyour innovation?” She pauses, her expression turning fierce. “You have to show them what you’re made of. Rise above everything they throw at you. Show them. Today.” I swallow, nodding.
She leaves me at the end of the line of scholars moving towards the second exam. It’s held in a smaller room today. We’re called in one by one while the others wait on benches in a wide marble corridor.
Florentius, dressed in red, exits with a flourish and heads to the courtyard.
Skriniaris Evander calls a name, and one of the pink-cloaked scholars rises. After ten, fifteen minutes, he exits, smirking.
“Caelus Amuletos,” Skriniaris Evander calls.
I jump to my feet and hurry towards him. He guides me into the room, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Someone has used your innovation. His father is very influential; it will be nearly impossible to convince the judges he stole it. If I attempt to, it will seem like favouritism and affect your ranking. Can you come up with something new?”
Each word hits me like a blow. Anger flares, quickly followed by despair. I laugh hollowly to myself. How could I ever hope to compete against the kingdom’s elite when they use everything they can to trample me?
Skriniaris Evander returns to the judges, and I follow, frustration mounting with each step. I can’t give up now. I need to salvage this. But how?
I scan the panel of judges before me. Three look uncomfortable, shifting in their chairs, while the fourth stares at me intently. The scent of their discomfort mingles with the musty air of the room.
The Poison Halting Miracle hangs useless at my side. My mind races back to Quin in the pavilion and how surprised he’d been that I’d given him a painkilling spell through his feet...
I take a deep breath and observe the judges, noting their attempts to stretch their cramped legs.
I stand tall and summon ignisfern, tenebrathorn and serpentiswort to my palms. One judge frowns while the others watch impassively. “A simple pain reliever?”
“Sometimes simplicity is best,” I reply. I cast the capsulisation spell to encase the mist, but instead of forming a ball, I stretch and flatten it into two parts. I pull them from the air and hold them up. “May I use you to demonstrate?”
The most restless judge hesitantly agrees, placing the capsulised spell inside his boots. Relief instantly washes over his face. “Tell me more about this.”
“Magic is finite and fickle. Overuse or limited access can reduce its effectiveness. This capsulised spell ensures consistent relief throughout the day, even when other remedies aren’t available.”
Skriniaris Evander offers an encouraging smile, but three of the other judges remain sceptical. “Why design it for the feet?”
“With thousands of nerve endings connected to various body parts, it makes sense to target them directly. Stepping on these insoles allows the treatment to flow through the nerves, addressing pain at its source.”
“And what are the limitations of your innovation?”
“It’s not a cure, only a temporary relief. Users might mask their issues rather than address them fully.”
“And why should we support this despite that?”
“Many people lack the funds or time for comprehensive treatments. This provides a way to improve their quality of life.”
The judges exchange glances. “Can you make me a pair?” asks the most stubborn judge.
Istagger out of the exam room, my hands trembling despite the icy cold. I did everything I could, but who knows if it will be enough? The distant chatter of scholars on the deck of a longboat catches my attention, and I make my way toward it, my footsteps crunching through the snow. As I jump on board, the fifteen scholars turn to stare.
I zero in on the pink cloak who smirked at me earlier and grab him by the collar. “What did you present?” I demand, ignoring the growing tension around us.
His friends rise, ready to defend him, but I hold my ground. “You and your friends distracted me at the academy.”
I must have dozed off, because when morning arrives, I’m still curled in the chair, my gloved hands cushioning my face. I scribble an apology for the vase, finish the teas from the scattered cups, and rush towards the scholar prefecture.
Outside the gates, Akilah paces in the fresh snow. Her face lights up with relief when she spots me, but she doesn’t hesitate to give me a sharp slap on the arm. “I was worried you’d been devoured by pompous pricks.”
I grin. “Have you no faith in me?”
She grumbles, “Just none in them.” She hands me a breakfast bundle and extra blankets. I take ten minutes on a canal bench, wrapped in those blankets, to eat with her while she coos and claps at my recounting of the night’s events. She asks about my new gloves, and I find myself skimming over that time with Quin, jumping to the end of the night.
“You think someonestoleyour innovation?” She pauses, her expression turning fierce. “You have to show them what you’re made of. Rise above everything they throw at you. Show them. Today.” I swallow, nodding.
She leaves me at the end of the line of scholars moving towards the second exam. It’s held in a smaller room today. We’re called in one by one while the others wait on benches in a wide marble corridor.
Florentius, dressed in red, exits with a flourish and heads to the courtyard.
Skriniaris Evander calls a name, and one of the pink-cloaked scholars rises. After ten, fifteen minutes, he exits, smirking.
“Caelus Amuletos,” Skriniaris Evander calls.
I jump to my feet and hurry towards him. He guides me into the room, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Someone has used your innovation. His father is very influential; it will be nearly impossible to convince the judges he stole it. If I attempt to, it will seem like favouritism and affect your ranking. Can you come up with something new?”
Each word hits me like a blow. Anger flares, quickly followed by despair. I laugh hollowly to myself. How could I ever hope to compete against the kingdom’s elite when they use everything they can to trample me?
Skriniaris Evander returns to the judges, and I follow, frustration mounting with each step. I can’t give up now. I need to salvage this. But how?
I scan the panel of judges before me. Three look uncomfortable, shifting in their chairs, while the fourth stares at me intently. The scent of their discomfort mingles with the musty air of the room.
The Poison Halting Miracle hangs useless at my side. My mind races back to Quin in the pavilion and how surprised he’d been that I’d given him a painkilling spell through his feet...
I take a deep breath and observe the judges, noting their attempts to stretch their cramped legs.
I stand tall and summon ignisfern, tenebrathorn and serpentiswort to my palms. One judge frowns while the others watch impassively. “A simple pain reliever?”
“Sometimes simplicity is best,” I reply. I cast the capsulisation spell to encase the mist, but instead of forming a ball, I stretch and flatten it into two parts. I pull them from the air and hold them up. “May I use you to demonstrate?”
The most restless judge hesitantly agrees, placing the capsulised spell inside his boots. Relief instantly washes over his face. “Tell me more about this.”
“Magic is finite and fickle. Overuse or limited access can reduce its effectiveness. This capsulised spell ensures consistent relief throughout the day, even when other remedies aren’t available.”
Skriniaris Evander offers an encouraging smile, but three of the other judges remain sceptical. “Why design it for the feet?”
“With thousands of nerve endings connected to various body parts, it makes sense to target them directly. Stepping on these insoles allows the treatment to flow through the nerves, addressing pain at its source.”
“And what are the limitations of your innovation?”
“It’s not a cure, only a temporary relief. Users might mask their issues rather than address them fully.”
“And why should we support this despite that?”
“Many people lack the funds or time for comprehensive treatments. This provides a way to improve their quality of life.”
The judges exchange glances. “Can you make me a pair?” asks the most stubborn judge.
Istagger out of the exam room, my hands trembling despite the icy cold. I did everything I could, but who knows if it will be enough? The distant chatter of scholars on the deck of a longboat catches my attention, and I make my way toward it, my footsteps crunching through the snow. As I jump on board, the fifteen scholars turn to stare.
I zero in on the pink cloak who smirked at me earlier and grab him by the collar. “What did you present?” I demand, ignoring the growing tension around us.
His friends rise, ready to defend him, but I hold my ground. “You and your friends distracted me at the academy.”
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