"—that will conclude the test. Please make your way to the front in order of your horizontal row from right to left."
Arthur vigorously rubbed his eyes. The clock read 13:00.
That was a pretty nice nap.
"Those with applicant identification numbers 100-199, make your way to Hall 3-1. Those with numbers 200-299, make your way to Hall 3-2… Those with numbers 1100-1199, make your way to Hall 4-1, and so on."
The person closest to the front raised their hand. "But Instructor, what if you don't remember your number? The clerk at the front desk took my ticket."
"Just like they are told to do, applicant Newman. If you cannot remember a mere three numbers, how do you expect to practice magic? You have ten minutes to get to your assigned halls and form a line in the correct numerical sequence. If you arrive beyond that point, or take up the wrong spot, you will be disqualified."
He removed the bronze identification card from Newman's test, and using magic, imprinted the time "13:11:26" on it before handing it back.
Fascinating. This really does confuse me. That certainly isn't something a General Practitioner of Magic could ever do.
He looked down at his card, viewing it from different angles, allowing different light sources to shine on it. He closed his eyes and moved his finger across the card.
I can't see or feel any imperfections in the grain of the card that would lead me to believe the numbers would be there from the beginning.
That would also be extremely difficult to predict.
It's certainly impressive how the Mage Association can manufacture such pure and uniform cards on such a large scale.
There is no contest that they are the future.
Wait, could it be that the composition of the card is not equal throughout, but has parts that reveal themselves when they come in contact with mana?
He opened his palm, allowing the card to gently lay on it, and placed his other hand on top. He imagined an orange glow emanating from the enclosed space between his hands, but when he opened them, nothing had changed.
No good, huh? Well, I guess I'll be seeing Cedric again in Hall 3-3.
Arthur traversed the building, walking up stairs and through halls filled with people, paying none of them any attention—until a hand belonging to a girl in a passing group tapped his shoulder.
Her fingers gently trickled down his arm, one by one, before retracting as the group moved on.
She quietly waved back at him, spreading out her small, thin fingers, her long brown hair catching his eye before she turned her head to follow her group into Hall 3-2 on the left.
Alice…
Here it is, Hall 3-3. There seem to be fewer than fifty people here.
Was it really that difficult to find this place?
He walked up to the person closest to him, at the back of the line.
"Excuse me, what is your number?"
The boy looked surprised and hesitated. "I'm number 399. I'm the last one. What's your number?"
"321," Arthur responded.
Number 399 took a step forward and looked back at the line.
"Do you see that group of four talking to each other at the front?"
He pointed at a light-brown-haired kid whom Arthur immediately recognized as Cedric.
"The boy that the other three are facing is number 320."
"Alright, thank you for your help. My name is Arthur. What's yours?"
"No problem, Arthur, my name is Derrick. It's nice to meet you. Good luck on the Physical Exam."
"You as well."
Arthur made his way to where Cedric was, unaware that his eyes were shooting a continuous, piercing volley of arrows.
He has become close with so many people already…
He planned on quietly claiming his spot until Cedric noticed him.
"Arthur!" he screamed, waving his hands in the air. Arthur quickly fixed the look in his eyes.
"You guys should head back to your spots," Cedric said. "The test will begin in a minute! Good luck!"
He waved as they made their way further back, passing Arthur as he reached his spot behind Cedric.
"So, how was the test?"
"It was fine," Arthur answered.
"Oh come on, don't be so humble. You aced it, didn't you? I'd bet you finished in less than an hour!"
"I didn't. You're wrong."
There's no way I'll ever admit that you're right. As long as I live, I will deny, refuse, and reject it all.
"Whaaat? No way…"
"Well, I guess that means I lost the bet. What do you want?"
What do I want? I want everything you have. What were you given at birth that I wasn't?
When did you become something so great that I could never reach?
Why am I so pathetic?
Cedric silently read his eyes that refused to face him.
"Nothing," Arthur finally said.