Chapter Two

Her mother left her at the gate. Being Empress was a busy job, It was really quite nice of her to have come at all. Any of her other children would have apreciated it immensly.

Petra could hardly be described as apreciative though. Gloomy would be more accurate; and brooding was always a good way of explaining her attitude. Today in particular, despite her having selected The Academy from the offered options; her preference was clearly still to remain in the palace.

And now here she was in a queue of anxious and excited young men and women of multiple species all looking forward to the best magical education that their tuition, and her mother's rather considerable educational grant, could possibly hope for. Most people would have been thrilled just to know that merely being here placed you firmly at a T6 or better; the upper echelons of all magic users. The number of magic users as powerful as the ones gathered here could be counted in only five digits. Her father had once hinted that the first digit was two.

"Hi! I'm Chesi. What's your name?"
Petra's assailant was a perky brunette. She was wearing a grey sweater and a pleated skirt. She exhuded cheer, optimism, and an unfaltering belief that deep inside everyone was naturally good. Petra found herself abnormally motivated in her presence; corespondingly she spent the entire time in line resisting the strong desire to crush her spirit in such a way as to make her eternaly self-conscious and miserable. A part of her felt bad for thinking of it, but mostly she just found the cheerful girl a minor nuisance.

"Petra, I'm going to be a student. By your outfit I'd guess you already are."
"No, but my brother is. He's told me all about what to expect."
"I suppose you have a bit of an advantage on the rest of us then now don't you?"
"I suppose your right. Maybe if I told you something we'd be on more even standing?"

What was this, a video game? Disturbingly nice people offering advice and hints, powerful magicians all gathered to go to school, and the fact that she was a princess hardly made it any less wierd.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind a chance to be ready for whatever's at the end of this line. You wouldn't happen to know would you?"
"It's a test of some sort; they sort people out by ethical standards. Influenced by racial norms of course, I mean 'good' for a Ga-Vok is much more brutal than it would be for a human. And 'Evil' for a Nielda is on a completly different standard. My brother says that for us they base it on how much prompting it takes for you to kill someone, and on how painful a death it is. For humans it's probably written, no clue for a Ga-Vok; but I suspect cleanliness is involved."
"So we, we have to kill someone?"
"I kind of hope he was joking. I don't think I could do it, even if it was a criminal or a traitor."

Petra found that their conversation had lasted till she was at te front of the line. A grand doorway stood between her and whatever tests was appointed her.

"Petra Laerdsfeld, please enter."

She did. It was a small hall, two desks were inside. The far desk was ocupied by a plump woman in purple robes. On the near one was a a tall stack of papers, clearly the test. On her right in the place of a wall was a prison cell, containing one rather crazy looking man.

"Princess, you have a choice. Before you ae two options, You may either complete the test, or you may pass judgement on this man. Your choice, the man is a criminal and the evidence is summarized on the table and the test is very simple. Neither option would be considered illegal, nor would they be considered hard."
She muttered quietly, "Unless by some chance you had a conscience."

"How would I pass judgement on him?"
"It's your..."
"Ok then."
Petra stretched her hand towards the man in the cell and spoke simply, "Die."

Her mother had never actually taught her magic. She didn't relly expect anything to happen, mostly it was just the easiest way to get through this ridiculous trial.
Apparently though, something didn't get the memo.

An insidious and harsh sounding choir began resounding throughout the hall. A chant in an unholy tongue that would not cease, striking fear into all those in the hall; save Petra, who heard it not.

'Ew raeh ouy retsam. Rouy dnammoc lliw eb deyebo.
The teacher rose in horror as the ceiling and floor were torn assunder by a dark maelstrom. Beyond those shadowed portals were beasts of a horrible nature. Their visages were concealed, but from them came a writhing of tentacles. And the tentacles emerged from the nether-gates and within seconds the prisoner's desperate screams ceased. But no sooner was the hapless man torn asunder from within than the tentacles withdrew and the fabric of space was returned to it's original order. Clean as fresh blown glass, not even a hint of the horrific death that had occured but a half-moment before.

"By the alchemist's flame child, if you're still in school when I finish telling the headmaster you'll be the most terrifying thing these halls have ever seen. Unless the Headmaster says otherwise you'd best sleep with the other future warlocks and necromancers. I'll not risk letting you near any of the more heroicly minded students. "
"I suppose that makes me evil?"
"No, sentencing him to death without any attention to the evidence made you evil. Actually doing it...and like...tentacles from who knows where...those voices."
The plump teacher, who still hadn't shown her the courtesy of an introduction much less a curtsey, began hyperventelating and left the room in a paniced rush.
Petra decided it would be best not to write home about this.