�Come, Corin.� Professor Aaran whispered to him, his voice softer now, not so harsh and more like the Professor who Corin knew.
Corin nodded and followed the white-robed mage into the Hall, more white-robed mages trailing behind him through the door.
Inside, Corin was immediately struck by how little light there was in this room. No windows broke the dark shadow of the walls and only two ensorcelled lamps were present and both of those were hung above a huge stage, their light reflecting off of the glass jars containing potion ingredients that rested on a long table in front of the closed curtains. Dimly, Corin could make out row after row of seats stretching far down from where he stood to the base of the stage, sloping as they went.
Professor Aaran led him down the aisle that cut the rows of seats in half to the side of the stage. There, steps led upward and the Professor motioned that he should follow them and take his place next to the table. Corin obeyed, hearing Professor Aaran�s steps following him up and then stopping when they stood behind him and slightly closer to the table.
Corin stared nervously out into the darkened Hall, darker now that he stood in the light and looked out. Shadowy figures, apparently the witnesses, moved among the seats, trying to find a place to rest and watch what was about to unfold before them. Soon, all movement stopped and Corin could feel all eyes on him, standing exposed in the spotlight that the two enchanted lamps made. The ball of nervousness grew and moved upward to his throat.
�Let us begin and let it be witnessed.� Professor Aaran intoned solemnly and Corin turned to the table, grateful to have his back to the waiting crowd. The crowd replied with �Aye� and then the Test began.
It was easier than he had anticipated in his nightmares. Professor Aaran stood behind the table while Corin stood in front, his back having holes bored into it by the many pairs of eyes staring at him. And to him, that�s all the people in the audience were, just pairs of eyes fixated on him while he became immersed in the soft tones of the Professor�s commands as he told Corin what potion or spell to make or perform.
Everything asked of him was the same as the things that Corin had practiced over and over in Professor Aaran�s office, the gray-haired mage patiently going over what to mix and how, the proper words to say, and how to focus energy and put power behind his words. All those skills had been mastered and more and now they were second nature, as easy as breathing. With every spell and potion that met with Professor Aaran�s approving nod, Corin�s confidence grew until he felt like he could take on anything. So when the professor nodded a final time and then waved his hand, muttering a few words and making the table and its contents disappear, Corin was practically dancing on the balls of his feet. He was so close to succeeding, just so close.
�Now we come to the true and most important test of a mage�s skills.� Professor Aaran droned, raising his voice to carry over the attentive audience. �Corin Belcoth must now try to sense one of the hated lizard-spawn, one of the filthy races that pollute our lands, for if he can succeed, it will be his solemn duty to rid the world of them and their kind.� His voice lowered slightly and he turned from facing the whole Hall to just facing him, even though his rigid expression did not waver, �Corin, if you will please turn you attention to the curtain behind me.�
Corin obeyed, green eyes darting to maroon cloth. As if his gaze had been some sort of trigger, a light ignited behind the curtain, illuminating it with an eerie reddish light and revealing three shadowy figures, etched against the cloth. The first figure was a woman�s, the second a man�s, and the third another woman�s.
�Which is the dragon filth, Corin?� Professor Aaran asked quietly.
Corin turned his full attention to the curtain and focused on the shadowed silhouettes, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate.
When he was being trained to take this ordeal, the Professor had given him the theory of Sensing, but he had never actually shown Corin exactly how to put it into practice. This meant that while Corin knew what he was supposed to do he wasn�t quite sure that it was going to work when he tired it.
But he didn�t waste much energy or concentration on worrying about it, instead he mentally �reached� out toward the silhouettes before him, probing each in turn with his sixth sense. The first woman�s aura was a soft, pale yellow to his mind�s eye, swirling in chaotic curlicues around the woman�s black form. This he easily recognized as the aura of a �normal� non-magical person, and passed her by.
The second�s, the man, was different. It was still yellow, but it was more of a Black-Eyed Susan type yellow than a butter cream yellow and white motes of light were scattered throughout. The lights danced through their yellow setting in a more orderly fashion than the swirls in the previous aura and where the other gave off no sense of any �temperature� to it, this one exuded a warmth that made Corin�s senses tingle. A mage he thought and turned his probing to the third and final figure with a ball of excitement in his throat.
This last woman�s aura was very much different than either of the ones before it. This one was yellow, but it was a more velvety and subdued yellow than either of the other two, though still a strong color. And this aura was shot through with streaks of red, blue, white, and green and mixed with each other before separating to swirl off in different directions. This aura produced a �heat� from it that Corin could almost feel on his physical skin.
His eyes snapped open, their green depths holding pride and confidence. Professor Aaran stood beside him, watching expectantly as were all the other witnesses in the seats below him. �The last one on the right, Professor.� Corin said confidently, even though his stomach was positively writhing with a combination of nerves and excitement.
The Professor didn�t reply. Instead, he motioned briefly to someone on the side of the stage, out of sight. A fourth figure joined the other three behind the curtain and took the indicated person�s arm, pulling her around the curtain to stand in front of Corin.
She was tall and slender, but in an emaciated way, hollows cast shadows on her pretty face, and her eyes were puffy with lack of sleep. Her hair, it looked blonde under all the dirt, hung in greasy strands onto her bony shoulders. Patches of pale skin was exposed beneath shredded, loose clothing that could barely be called rags. But Corin was unconcerned with any of these details as his eyes darted up the woman�s face. Beneath the veil of light colored eyelashes a pair of yellow, slit-pupiled eyes met his own green ones.
Triumph, warm and uplifting, flooded his senses. He had done it. He had succeeded where everyone had doubted that he could. He had proven to the whole school that he was not some stupid plowboy straight off the farm who would never amount to anything. He had made it.
But even as the broad smile crept onto his face, he stilled. The dragon-spawn�s eyes, they had locked his own in a gaze that bore into his soul with such a look of sadness and�pity�that his breath caught in his throat. Why would a vicious, emotionless creature such as the lizard-people feel pity, and how could she feel it toward him, a future enemy? He had expected rage, had expected her to curse him and try to rip his throat out. That would have been more welcome than the look she now gave him, that horribly, horribly sad look.