First Year by Rachel E. Carter Page B

they came from.
    “You would think that,” Sir Piers replied idly, “and, most of the time, you’d be right. But each year I’ve been here, there’s been one or two lowborns who shame all that extra coin your families put to use. It’s the ones that
need
to learn you should be worried about.”
    Priscilla flinched and immediately stopped her protest.
    “The worst thing wealth does is give those that have it a false sense of security,” Piers concluded loudly, addressing the entire group as he motioned for us to dismiss. “You stop trying as hard, and there’s always another that will gladly take your place.”
    Later that evening my newfound glee was still in full swing when Ella and I retired from the armory. It seemed that Piers’s speech had instilled a newfound sense of urgency to some of the more confident first-years. We were now one of six small groups that practiced near the building after our evening meal.
    Most of the students, I noticed, were practicing much more advanced moves than Ella and I, but it was a compliment that they had shown up just the same. Maybe they didn’t view me as a serious contender but now they were at least willing to consider the possibility.
    Ella turned to me as we entered the library. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
    I just smiled brazenly.
    “You smell terrible,” Alex greeted us.. The library was packed as usual, which unfortunately did very little to alleviate the telltale odor of my clothes.
    Ella gave him a look.
    “Ella, my flower, my sweet, that comment was for my dear sister alone. You smell as enchanting as—”
    “Save your prose, pretty boy,” Ella cut Alex off, laughing. “We’ve got enough to worry about without your attempts at romance tonight.”
    Our study session came and went without much ado. We were mostly silent because the night was our last review of the fundamentals. Starting the next day, we’d be focusing on one faction a week, beginning with Restoration. And orientation meant casting.
    We were all nervous. The tension in the air was thick as we poured over our volumes, each silently hoping that we had learned enough to not humiliate ourselves in the weeks that mattered.
    The second and third months were when we would lose the most students, according to Master Barclae’s ominous admission that evening at dinner.
“You can’t fake it for long here
he’d warned.
“Beginning tomorrow we will see what you can do instead of what you know. Many start to resign because they see what kind of magical prowess they are actually going up against. That, and they can’t keep up.”
 
    In any case, the entire library was much more quiet than usual. When Barrius came round for his usual dismissal, it took twice the time it usually did for him to clear the first two floors. Everyone was reluctant to leave. Unfortunately, that also made it impossible for me to escape to the alcove unnoticed.
    Irritated, I retreated with the rest of the crowd to my barracks, resolving to sneak my way back at the earliest opportunity.
    After the constable’s final round, I hastily pushed my blankets away and reached for my books in the darkness.
    “Still at it?” Ella whispered from her bunk nearby.
    I should have known better than to expect everyone to have already fallen asleep.
    I clutched my materials and squeezed my way past the scattered belongings strewn across the floor.
    “I’ll see you in the morning,” I told her quietly as I passed her bunk.
    “Don’t be up too late,” she reminded gently. “We’ve got our work cut out tomorrow.”
    “I know,” I replied grimacing. “I’ll try not—”
    “Would you two keep it down?”
an irritated voice shot out from across the room. It belonged to my biggest fan, Priscilla.
    I hastily crossed the room to the door while Ella told Priscilla where she could stick her complaints.
    Upon exiting the building, I made a mad rush for the backdoors of the Academy. They were only a couple hundred