6th of Season of Air, 57th year of the 32nd imperial era

"Greetings, honorable guildmaster." Dandelion offered a shallow bow to the empty doorway, absolutely nonplussed by the accusation.

Halfway through his words and gesture, a short twig of a man entered the lobby.

"Don't you 'greetings' me, you ingrate. Whose kid is this? Who are you trying to coddle now? I don't think I've ever seen a bigger ass-kisser than you."

"Do you want another spar, Old Man?" Dandelion's amiable voice suddenly grew dangerous, and the guildmaster shuddered.

"Very well, I will proctor the examination test myself and throw out the sobbing child with incinerated hopes and dreams."

"Newstar," Dandelion ignored the eccentric guildmaster, "have fun taking the test and remember the way he is acting now. You have someone who appreciates you as a person, willing to teach you right here, even though he might offer you greater monetary benefits. Such as paying you instead of taking your money."

With that and a wink, the former townlord left one confused youth, one angry old man, and one infatuated woman, struggling not to giggle, in the lavish lobby.

The room, which seemed empty save for Dandelion's presence mere moments ago, suddenly revealed its charm to Newt. The wooden floors were ancient and sparkled, both from wax with which it was polished, and with mana, which flowed through it in an intricate pattern.

The street was loud, full of hustle, sounds of saurians drawing carts and wagons, but none of those could be heard inside. Even the overly hot air was at the temperature of a pleasant mid-spring morning.

Barb harrumphed, staring at the departing figure.

"Ingrate," he muttered, then focused on Newt. "Well, don't just stand there, boy. Follow me."

He strode away just as Newt started appreciating the various paintings hanging from the walls, depicting men and women with multi-colored flags and talismans, elements bending to their will.

Newt tore his eyes away from the impressive paintings and hurried to catch up.

"What's your name, boy?" The guildmaster's high-pitched voice was haughty and comical at the same time, yet Newt didn't even think of smirking. The mana flowing through his body was a step thicker and stronger than his and Dandelion's.

"Newstar Salamandra, Sir" he gave his name, but the mention of his illustrious clan had a much different effect than he had expected.

"A descendant of an ancient slayer? Never heard of the clan, though. Your family must have declined a long time ago." Unlike Dandelion, who spoke smoothly, Barb lived up to his name and lashed out with his tongue.

The remark stung, but it was kinder than what Newt had told his teacher when leaving home.

"Yes, sir. We have grown weak over the centuries."

"It happens." Barb remained oblivious to Newt's tone. "Other than the imperials and ten royal families, even the orders change from time to time. Our history is full of strife and conflict. All it takes is one foolish leader to doom thousands of years of heritage."

Newt nodded, thinking of his uncle, even if Victor wasn't the only one responsible for the Salamandras' downfall.

"What about the guilds?"

"What about them?" Barb opened the blocky building's door and motioned Newt into a dark hallway. The young man stepped in, and light flooded the passage, revealing ten doors on either side.

"Well, do they decline?"

Barb had just overtaken Newt when he stopped and looked up. "I guess some do. When a similar, but easier or more powerful, discipline emerges or when the imperial era changes. The woodshapers' guild used to be much more prominent than they are today, but that was before the imperial family abandoned the project of conquering the four wealds' depths. Too much blood, our losses extremely heavy without gaining a foothold."

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The man looked back down and headed to the second door to the left. "But major guilds remain major and that's how it will always be. Alchemy, seals, mining and ore refinement, weapons, and artifacts are key to advancement. Without those supplementary disciplines, awakened are just slightly stronger mortals, stuck at the second or third realm because it is next to impossible to advance further without assistance."

Newt followed Barb into the room, not even knowing what to expect, but he certainly did not imagine a narrow room, barely wider than the corridor, with a maze-like relief covering an entire wall, while the opposite one was hidden behind shelves lined with books and rocks.

"You're second layer of the third realm?"

"Yes, sir," Newt said, and the guildmaster gave him another look-over.

"How old are you?"

"Soon to be seventeen."

The guildmaster nodded, staring into the maze.

"Right." He snapped out of his daze and picked three sparkly marbles off the shelf. The shiny gems were in three colors: red, green, and yellow, roughly half the size of a pinky nail.

The man approached the maze and embedded the gems into seemingly random slots.

"To pass the exam, you need to hold this handle and run your mana through this three-dimensional maze. Simply flooding it won't work. You have to shape your mana into fine threads and search for the correct path. Luck plays a certain part, but it is negligible. You will pass regardless of how long you take, if you can properly manipulate and withdraw the energy you invest in searching the proper path. If you can't, the maze will devour your mana.

"Your goal is to light the gems by passing mana through them. To pass the test as an initiate, you need to light the yellow gem. If you light yellow and red, you will join as an apprentice, and if you light all three, you will be eligible for a journeyman test. Dandelion seems certain you will light all three, so I am here for the second test, if there is a need for it."

Guildmaster Barb turned around and went towards the shelf, his introduction finished. "You may begin."

"Wait, how do I fill the holes in the wall?" Newt asked, and Barb sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Didn't he explain anything? The relief is just an ornament, the real maze is embedded into a wall, a mesh of hyper-conductive electrum mined from areas with high ambient mana. If you are good at manipulating your mana, you should have more than enough to reach the yellow gem. You may begin," the guildmaster repeated as he waved his hand and went to pick up a book from the shelf.

Newt turned around and faced the polished greenish-yellow lever. The shiny metal rod seemed perfectly mundane, but Newt still grasped it with care. He was ready to back away, but nothing happened.

Newt focused, pushing a thread of mana into the metal. The resistance which he felt when extending mana from his person out into his surroundings wasn't there. He pushed further, but the metal felt like an extension of his body.

Newt's mana swam, free as a fish, slowly filling the handle, but he soon realized the handle seemed to be able to hold infinite mana and that even if he spent his entire reserve, it might not be enough.

'Simply flooding it won't work. You have to shape your mana into fine threads and search for the correct path.' He recalled Guildmaster Barb's words, and cut the flow into the handle, shaping the energy he had already invested and sending it deeper into the rod, towards the wall.

The rod turned into a funnel until it grew thinner than a needle. The infinite expanse from a few moments ago seemed to have a wall on either side. Newt closed his eyes, trying to better visualize what he was doing. He became a tendril of energy, searching for a path forward. Touching the edges would not extinguish him, but it would waste some of the precious energy, so he stayed at the center, going deeper and deeper into the wall.

Suddenly, the tunnel split into two, one leading up, the other right. Newt chose the right path, then the path split into two, then into three, until finally Newt reached the end of his path.

Dead end.

He withdrew the tendril, losing the bit of energy which had struck the edge of the pathway while searching for a way forward. The experience was nauseating at first, and then Newt slowed down. Minute by minute, his mind wandered the metallic hallways until it came upon something which was not metal.

Newt smiled, and the yellow gem shone before he continued searching for the next one.

"This is a really unpleasant test," Newt muttered, lighting the red light.

"You are painfully slow, but if you can talk while threading your mana, there might still be hope for you. Keep working."

Guildmaster Barb no longer sounded angry. In fact, Newt was certain the guildmaster was watching him, even though he had picked up a book to read. But Newt couldn't afford to turn around and open his eyes, most of his attention occupied by the slithering strand of energy just waiting to escape his control.

Finally, Newt found the third different structure. Green light shone for a moment, but went out the moment Newt opened his eyes, just like the other two.

"Four hours, twenty minutes." Guildmaster Barb grumbled, but the complaint sounded forced. "Your luck is either terrible or you are extremely meticulous. For your information, Dandelion lit all three in under fifteen minutes."

Fifteen minutes? Newt wiped the sweat off his brows.

"He did this in fifteen minutes?"

"Less, but yes. Now, the second part of the test is rune recognition. You need to recognize sixteen out of eighteen basic runes, and three out of ten randomly selected advanced runes. Even if you fail this test, I am willing to take you in as a personal apprentice."

Guildmaster Barb tried to sound casual, but it was obvious he was interested in Newt's talent.

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