The east yard had transformed overnight. Where yesterday there had been open grass and mist, now a sprawling obstacle course wound its way across the field — scaling walls, a rope bridge strung over a wide pit of mud, balance beams suspended above shallow trenches, and, at the very end, a long open stretch clearly meant for an all-out sprint.
Xavier had come to see Stephan off before Elrick dragged him away for the day's suffering, and he took one look at the course and immediately felt grateful for whatever cruel mercy had spared him from having to run it. The candidates lined up along the starting rope were a mixed bag. Some were clearly seasoned, checking their gear with the calm efficiency of people who'd done this before, while others were visibly one bad landing away from tears. A few parents and siblings had gathered along the fence line to watch, murmuring nervously to each other.
"Try not to die," Xavier told Stephan, clapping him on the shoulder.
"No promises," Stephan said cheerfully, and that was somehow not reassuring in the slightest.
"Trial of the Body!" the proctor bellowed, his voice somehow carrying to every corner of the yard without visible effort. "Candidates will complete the course in the fastest time they can manage without disqualification. Cheating, sabotage of other candidates, or excessive property damage will result in immediate elimination. Questions?"
A nervous silence answered him.
"Good. First group, to the start line!"
Stephan rolled his shoulders, Ember strapped snugly across his back, and fell into line alongside a dozen other candidates. The girl Xavier had noticed the day before — the one who'd stretched with the calm precision of someone who'd done this a hundred times — stood a few places down, utterly unbothered by the chaos around her. Somewhere behind him, a boy who couldn't have been older than fourteen was muttering something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer. Stephan clapped him on the shoulder with enough force to nearly knock him over.
"You'll do great!"
The boy did not look reassured.
The proctor's whistle cut through the morning air, and the first group surged forward.
Stephan cleared the scaling wall in a single explosive leap that made several other candidates visibly reconsider their life choices, hit the rope bridge at a dead sprint instead of the cautious crawl most examinees favored, and made it three-quarters of the way across before the whole thing began swinging wildly beneath his weight.
"Slow down, you absolute-" one of the other candidates yelled, clinging on for dear life.
"No time!" Stephan called back cheerfully and kept running.
He hit solid ground on the far side at a full sprint, several candidates behind him still clinging to the swaying bridge. Behind him, chaos reigned in more traditional fashion. At least two candidates had already found their way into the mud pit, one apparently by choice, having decided that swimming underneath the rope bridge would be faster than crossing it. It was not, in fact, faster.
Stephan barreled through the balance beams with more momentum than grace, clipping his shin hard enough on the second one to draw blood through his pant leg. He didn't slow down. He probably didn't even notice.
By the time he crossed the finish line, chest heaving, grinning like an idiot, the proctor was already marking something down on his clipboard with an expression that could have meant anything from impressed to deeply concerned.
"Time noted," the proctor said. "Go get that leg looked at before it gets infected."
"It's fine!"
"It is not fine. Go."
Stephan limped off toward the healer's tent, still grinning, already comparing notes with the calm girl from earlier, who had apparently finished nearly a full minute ahead of him without so much as breaking a sweat. She gave his bleeding shin a brief, unimpressed glance.
"You're going to do that every single trial, aren't you?" she said. It wasn't really a question.
"Probably!"
"Great." She walked off without further comment, and Stephan decided, on balance, that he liked her.
***
Across the grounds, in a training yard considerably less crowded with spectators, Xavier was three days into his regimen and had discovered several new and exciting ways his body could hurt.
"Two hundred and twelve," Elrick called out, lounging against a fence post with the easy comfort of a man who had never once considered doing a push-up himself. "You've got two hundred and eighty-eight left on this exercise alone. Plenty of time."
"I hate you," Xavier wheezed into the dirt.
"You've mentioned. Several times. I remain unbothered." Elrick examined his own fingernails with theatrical disinterest. "You know, most people would be at least a little more strategic about which magical prodigy they decide to provoke into training them."
"In my defense, I did not know you were like this."
"Nobody ever does. That's most of the fun."
"Out of morbid curiosity," Xavier managed between reps, "does this get better? At any point? Ever?"
"Statistically, yes. Eventually your body stops treating basic exertion like a personal attack. I'd give it another four days, minimum."
"Four days...?"
"Give or take. You're welcome to quit at any time, of course. I'll just remember that you did." Elrick smiled sweetly.
Xavier, despite everything, found the energy for a glare. "That's manipulative."
"It's extremely manipulative," Elrick agreed cheerfully. "Is it working?"
"...Yes."
"Wonderful. Two thirteen."
Xavier forced out another push-up through sheer, bitter spite, arms shaking violently. Somewhere across the school, faintly, he could hear the roar of a crowd. Stephan's exam, presumably still underway and still chaotic. He allowed himself a brief, aching moment of gratitude that he wasn't the one being judged today.
Then he remembered he had four hundred and eighty push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, and squats combined still ahead of him, plus fifty kilometers of running, and the gratitude evaporated instantly.
"Chin up," Elrick added, tossing a waterskin down beside him without much ceremony. "At this rate, you'll only need another four or five days to finish just the push-ups. Very promising pace."
"That is not encouraging."
"I never said it was meant to be encouraging. I said it was promising. Two different things." Elrick checked an imaginary watch on his wrist, entirely for effect, since Xavier was fairly certain watches did not exist in this world. "Chop chop."
"...Two thirteen," he grunted, and kept going.