Two months later

“Don’t be afraid.”

After months in Leyres, learning more in a few weeks than she had in years of studies at home, she’d come to trust the enigmatic Tutor with piercing eyes. Still. The strange instrument he wielded now, intending to use on her, would have made any girl squeamish.

Talia had been asked to take a seat in a lush, comfortable beige chair and the Tutor had given her a sweet, refreshing drink; too strong to be wine, too delectable to be of this world.

“What is this and how do I order more?”

The Tutor had laughed, all the while strapping bonds around her wrists and ankles. “Mead. A brew made of honey. It’s produced by beekeepers south of these lands.”

She sipped more mead, to distract herself before he locked her second wrist in place.

Talia’s heart beat fast and she couldn’t help a twitch. Still, she would have been more uncomfortable had she not been the last mage to suffer through this. She’d seen the others, one by one, strapped in this very chair, just like they watched her now, from the tiers of the amphitheater where they were passing their first and last test.

The eleven other mages weren’t the only spectators. Great men in long tunics covered in gold had come to watch, and fine women in grand gowns. It was a posh affair. Talia had never been more grateful to her friend’s generosity; at least she looked presentable in this majestic company.

The old, silver-haired mage, who still hadn’t given them a name to call him by, smiled reassuringly. “It’s not going to be painful,” he told her in a soft voice. “Your mind is going to go through a simulation of sorts. We’re strapping you in to avoid you kicking, screaming, and running like it was real.”

She inclined her head in understanding. The other mages had already spilled the beans, when they’d come back to their seats next to her, earlier. Still. Didn’t mean that she had to like the restraints, or the weird futuristic helmet he was strapping to her skull. The headpiece was attached to machines that beeped and lit up when the other mages had gone through their trial.

Talia hadn’t understood what it meant, at first, but the audience seemed well versed in science. They clapped their hands when one of the nine bubbles on top of the machine lip up green, nodded their appreciation when it went to orange, and seemed disappointed when it didn’t light up at all. Most of her friends only earned one green, others, a couple, and some, orange. The crowd was very impressed with Laya, who got four green and two orange.

“What does this mean, do you think?” she’d whispered to Guillaume, who always seemed to know everything.

The boy had shrugged helplessly but a man sitting behind them was good enough to lean forward and explain, “Each of you are going through nine trials, that you may conquer, manage, or fail. Knowledge, wisdom, courage, ambition, loyalty, honesty, compassion, cunning, and the last one is selflessness.”

“Ambition, selflessness, cunning…” Talia frowned. “Some of these are almost opposite.”

“Indeed. It takes a very special person to exhibit each of these characteristics. We haven’t found anyone who did in our lifetime.”

So, everyone was supposed to fail. She relaxed; there was no shame in coming up short today. No one expected the impossible.

“This is going to hurt a little,” the Tutor admitted, plunging a syringe in her left arm.

She looked away, unwilling to watch as the dark liquid was plunged inside her bloodstream, and before long, Talia was pulled into a deep slumber.

For a time.

She could feel eyes on her; she wasn’t alone.

“Hello?”

There was someone watching her in the dark.

“Who are you?”

A cold breeze of wind froze her bones.

Talia lifted her hand and called to fire. Now there was a light, she turned around and around, but there was no one that she could see near her.

“Don’t be scared. Come out of the darkness. I won’t hurt you.”

The presence felt strong, potent, and perhaps even dangerous, but Talia didn’t read it as something fundamentally malevolent. It was like being watched by Xandrie’s tiger cub, Claws. Not being wary of the powerful creature would have been foolish but that didn’t mean she had any quarrel with it.

“Are you afraid of fire?” she guessed.

Her observer didn’t respond. Feeling half frustrated, half worried now, she sighed and lowered her arm, dismissing the fire with a wave of her hand. Okay. This obviously wasn’t going to be easy.

Using her nail, pushing it on her skin as deep as she could, Talia traced a familiar rune on her forehead. She wasn’t drawing blood - it was unnecessary for a quick spell like this. The little bruised mark would last a few minutes.

“Vide,” she whispered, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, they could see in the dark.

“There you are.”

Right in front of her there was a strange form, a spirit of some sort. It was a thing of Shadow, but still, Talia didn’t think it evil. Just frightened, vigilant, perhaps lost.

The Shadow had a human form; the form of a girl, or a woman, crouched on the floor, hugging its knees.

“Are you a ghost?” she asked the Shadow. “Do you need help passing through? I read about these things,” she said, sitting down to be at its level. “They say the ghosts who haven’t gone on to the immortal lands have something to do in this world, yet. I could help you.”

She titled her head, wondering, “Can you talk? I know a spell or two to communicate, regardless. I use it on birds. But don’t tell, I’m not supposed to. Besides, I need various ingredients to perform it.”

“I’m no ghost.”

Talia smiled; glad to have gotten somewhere with her test subject. It was talking to her now. “What are you, then?”

The specter lifted its head, slowly, and Talia’s eyes widened when she saw its face.

It had a straight nose, a little upturned, large eyes, and a small chin with a beauty spot on the left side, close to her mouth.

She was looking at her own face.

“Shadow. Darkness. I’m the part of you made to destroy.”

Talia felt her heart stop.

From what she knew, Shadows were the pure evil living within any creature’s heart. Most never were conscious of it, but it was different for mages. They could feel it each time they made use of their magics, tempting them, whispering to them. Talia had heard hers in the past. She’d heard hers when she was healing a soldier known for his cruelty towards commoners. “Let him die,” it had said. Shadows were temptation itself. And here was hers, sitting right in front of her, vulnerable. She could destroy it to make sure she never became a danger to anyone.

Talia stared at the Shadow for a long time.

“You’re not evil,” she said in a whisper, mostly talking to herself. “You just seem lonely and cold.”

“Shadows dwell in darkness.”

Talia chuckled. “Well, that’s ridiculous. I’ve never seen a shadow without light shining through. I tell you, shadow mine, what you need is a good sunbathing session. Let us make a bargain. I will listen to you and let you have your say. I will not ignore you again. In exchange, you’ll never force your will on me. Deal?”

The shadow said nothing. For a time, Talia thought it might fight her on it. But it finally got to its feet, slowly. Talia did the same, facing her.

“Deal,” it said, before taking three steps and walking inside of her.

Suddenly, Talia felt like she was falling at high speed; she screamed, closed her eyes, and braced herself for an impact.

The next instant, she felt centered again, if a little drowsy. Tentatively, she opened her eyes. She was a little confused to find herself back in the amphitheater, still strapped to the chair. The Tutor was undoing her bonds.

“Tell me there’s more mead on the menu,” she whispered, making him chuckle.

“I’m fairly confident you may have whatever you please, child.”

She noticed the audience looking at her was utterly silent right when she was about to ask what he meant. Now she was a little less confused, she turned to look at the strange machine everyone was staring at.

Each of the nine little light bulbs fitted on top of it had been lit up, in green.

“Wow. So, I’m a Pink Unicorn, hm?”

“Not quite.”