The latter half of May and the month of April passed quickly under Ember’s strict regiment. Mornings training, days in class, evenings studying, and weekends with her friends melded together with comforting familiarity.
Every other Sunday, as promised, she and Marcus visited Mr. Ernold, who told them of stories long lost beneath the tide of time. They spoke of times when humans treated Linnaeans as deities, caring for their ailments; of civilizations in the deep sea, away from the influence of the continent; of eras even more ancient, when insects as large as people ruled the land.
When the old man grew hoarse, Ember pulled provisions from a wicker basket, and they all dined together in the living room. Afterward, she and Marcus always spent an hour tidying up the cottage, and the house was gradually restored. Though they kept watch with careful eyes upon their return, they never again saw the creature Quetzalcoatlus.
Midterm week came and went in a flurry of action and anxiety. Ember found herself behind after the time she had spent neglecting her studies in the wake of the coup in Ciradyl, and when the grades were posted on their plaques, Ember wasn’t surprised to see Roland’s name rise even with hers. Blessedly, however, she heard little else of him and his precious Golden Eagle master—it seemed that whatever new duties he had acquired were keeping him occupied.
She trained consistently and constantly. She grappled with the reptiles, wielded her knife under Ophelia’s watchful eye, sparred with Jisu, and tutored Carn and Naz. Her skin calloused and her infrared sharpened; at last, she could trust her body to move where and when she wanted. Now, more often than not, Ophelia nodded at her with approval rather than disappointment.
Her mutations, too, progressed at a slow and steady rate. Her fangs were shed and re-capped twice; her irises, once light green, began to fade to gold. If there were times she felt restless or unsatisfied, they were quickly buried within the long and busy days—her worry became a dull ache behind her eyes; always present, but bearable.
Finals week was to be held the first week of May, and Ember faced the conclusion of her freshman year with a sort of exhausted relief. The long summer would bring more hours for training, and, hopefully, progress toward reuniting with father.
The exams for her Biology II, History of Mendel, and Trigonometry classes proved unchallenging. Only the final for Practical Combat on Irregular Terrain, Ophelia’s class, remained; and, inexplicably, the fireworm had blocked off an entire week for it on the schedule.
The class met for the last time on a warm Thursday morning. The designated location for the final was even stranger than it had been for the midterm—they had been instructed to meet at the wall’s western exit, three miles from the edge of campus. Even more ominously, there had been only four entries on the list of required materials: a canteen, a compass, a weapon, and an item of choice.
Ember sat with Jisu on a wide tree root, their weapons on their laps. Lance stood before them, fiddling with the fire striker he’d brought as his chosen item. The weather was pleasant: warm enough for all three to wear their fighter’s uniforms, but cool enough to exercise without overheating.
Like the eastern wall through which Ember and her friends had gone to the farmer’s market, the western wall was more modest than Mendel’s northern border. Its trees were younger and tamer, and only a small guard outpost was stationed by the gate. While the land outside of the eastern gate had been farmland, however, a peek through a gap in the branches yielded only old forest, like what Ember’s escort had passed through on its way to the city.
From her perch on the root, Ember watched the other students arrive—most by draft animal, but a couple on foot—and exchanged a few words with them as they settled in to wait for Ophelia. Even Gunther, the overbearing pisces, had shed his blatant hostility after the capture-the-flag exercise.
Ophelia arrived exactly on time, riding on a speckled mare and followed closely by the insect TA and two graduate students. She dismounted carefully, and the class formed a semi-circle around her.
The instructor took a moment to survey the group. With the morning light glinting off of her silvery armor and her orange bristles undulating in the breeze, she looked all the part a sea creature.
“None of you are beginner fighters,” she began, “and the difficulty of our final exam reflects that. Today, you will all compete in a variation of the exercise called survivor. In this exercise, each of you will be issued a flare, which you must keep on your person at all times. Put simply, your goal is to be among the last to set off your flare.” Ember raised an eyebrow at Jisu, a silent comment on the fireworm’s vagueness. “The caveat,” Ophelia continued, “is that this exercise will take place in the lands outside of the western exit.”
A ripple of gasps passed through the group of students, and even Ember, who regularly went outside of the walls to visit Mr. Ernold, felt uneasy.
“Rest assured,” the fireworm added, “I have received permission from the headmaster’s office. Myself, along with three graduate students and the guard on duty will be monitoring the area. We will establish camp here, on the other side of the wall, where you must check in by sundown each evening. This will be a safe zone—no one will be spending the night in the forest alone, though we will not be supplying you with provisions, either.”
“Why outside the wall, though?” an amphibian asked nervously. Ember recognized him as Daniel, the Fowler’s toad who had served as the lookout for Ember’s team during capture the flag.
“The added barrier of the wall will make it difficult to cheat by returning to campus for supplies,” Ophelia explained. “My aim is to gauge your wilderness survival skills, as is befitting for the true purpose of our class.”
“What happens if we set off our flares?” Lance asked.
“Good question. You will stay in camp until the exercise is over.” A collective groan went up. “I can’t have you quitting early just to return to the comfort of your dorms, can I?”
“What’s the grading scale?” Ember chimed in.
“I was getting to that. The top 50% of students—the last seven to set off their flares—will pass. Out of those, the students in 4th and 5th place will receive Bs, and the top three students will receive As.”
She paused, allowing the students time to process what she had said. Ember realized her true intentions almost instantly: no one would want a long, drawn-out game of starvation, so what had been presented as a test of survival was to become a battle royale. After all, how can you ensure you’re the last to set off your flare unless you force others to do so first?
Ember’s eyes flitted around the semi-circle, watching the moment that each of the other students came to the same realization that she had.
“One last thing,” Ophelia added. “Since you must return to camp every night, it will be difficult to travel too far. Still, avoid wandering too deep into the forest, especially in the north. Now, gather your things. We will begin soon.”
With a flick of her wrist, she ordered the students to form a line, and she and the TAs inspected the items that they had been instructed to bring. Ember saw the hunger in her classmates’ eyes each time a particularly useful item was presented, realizing that an asset could quickly become a burden; she was glad that she had brought something less immediately desirable—a simple metal cup, used for cooking or boiling water.
After the inspection, Ophelia shepherded the class toward the gate. The students talked among themselves desperately, forming half-baked alliances or offering to trade supplies. Although Ophelia didn’t stop them, she didn’t give them much time either, cutting them off mid-sentence in a call for silence.
Ember looked for Lance and Jisu, finding the ermine in the center of the milling students and the panther on the fringes. She didn’t waste time inquiring after them, knowing that neither would be interested in winning by teaming up against the other students. Instead, she threaded her belt through the canteen’s hook and the cup’s handle, affixing them to her waist, and pushed her flare deep into a buttoned pocket.
Without preamble, Ophelia raised her arm, and she and the TAs spread out along the length of the wall. “Your one-minute head start begins now,” she announced.
Instantly, there was chaos. In their haste to run, several students fumbled their supplies. Meanwhile, others argued passionately about the terms of alliances already broken. Lance and Jisu disappeared between the trees, and out of the corner of her eye, Ember saw Daniel fade against a cluster of roots, visible only by her infrared.
Ember took only a fraction of a second to assess the situation before taking off at a brisk run, distancing herself from what would certainly become a bloodbath. When the wall was just out of sight, she scrambled up a nearby tree and tucked herself against its trunk.
Ophelia’s shout marked the beginning of the exam. Immediately after, a blast sounded as an orange flare streaked through the sky. I wonder who that was, Ember thought, scanning the forest below to make sure that she was alone before settling in to think.
There were two ways to win the fireworm’s game—she could fight, and risk being forced to use her flare herself, or she could attempt to outlast the others. Objectively, she was in a good position for the latter strategy: she required little food, she could use her infrared to watch for threats, and she was a strong climber (though not entirely safe from Jisu and Lance). Still… there’s no way I’m placing in the top three without a fight.
She sighed, shifting so that a ray of sun fell onto her skin, and half-closed her eyes, the upcoming thrill of a hunt sending an exciting shiver up her body. She wouldn’t degrade herself by wasting her strength in a melee—she’d bide her time, and when the opportunity came, she’d finish off her competitors and be the last to use her flare.
The latter half of May and the month of April passed quickly under Ember’s strict regiment. Mornings training, days in class, evenings studying, and weekends with her friends melded together with comforting familiarity.
Every other Sunday, as promised, she and Marcus visited Mr. Ernold, who told them of stories long lost beneath the tide of time. They spoke of times when humans treated Linnaeans as deities, caring for their ailments; of civilizations in the deep sea, away from the influence of the continent; of eras even more ancient, when insects as large as people ruled the land.
When the old man grew hoarse, Ember pulled provisions from a wicker basket, and they all dined together in the living room. Afterward, she and Marcus always spent an hour tidying up the cottage, and the house was gradually restored. Though they kept watch with careful eyes upon their return, they never again saw the creature Quetzalcoatlus.
Midterm week came and went in a flurry of action and anxiety. Ember found herself behind after the time she had spent neglecting her studies in the wake of the coup in Ciradyl, and when the grades were posted on their plaques, Ember wasn’t surprised to see Roland’s name rise even with hers. Blessedly, however, she heard little else of him and his precious Golden Eagle master—it seemed that whatever new duties he had acquired were keeping him occupied.
She trained consistently and constantly. She grappled with the reptiles, wielded her knife under Ophelia’s watchful eye, sparred with Jisu, and tutored Carn and Naz. Her skin calloused and her infrared sharpened; at last, she could trust her body to move where and when she wanted. Now, more often than not, Ophelia nodded at her with approval rather than disappointment.
Her mutations, too, progressed at a slow and steady rate. Her fangs were shed and re-capped twice; her irises, once light green, began to fade to gold. If there were times she felt restless or unsatisfied, they were quickly buried within the long and busy days—her worry became a dull ache behind her eyes; always present, but bearable.
Finals week was to be held the first week of May, and Ember faced the conclusion of her freshman year with a sort of exhausted relief. The long summer would bring more hours for training, and, hopefully, progress toward reuniting with father.
The exams for her Biology II, History of Mendel, and Trigonometry classes proved unchallenging. Only the final for Practical Combat on Irregular Terrain, Ophelia’s class, remained; and, inexplicably, the fireworm had blocked off an entire week for it on the schedule.
The class met for the last time on a warm Thursday morning. The designated location for the final was even stranger than it had been for the midterm—they had been instructed to meet at the wall’s western exit, three miles from the edge of campus. Even more ominously, there had been only four entries on the list of required materials: a canteen, a compass, a weapon, and an item of choice.
Ember sat with Jisu on a wide tree root, their weapons on their laps. Lance stood before them, fiddling with the fire striker he’d brought as his chosen item. The weather was pleasant: warm enough for all three to wear their fighter’s uniforms, but cool enough to exercise without overheating.
Like the eastern wall through which Ember and her friends had gone to the farmer’s market, the western wall was more modest than Mendel’s northern border. Its trees were younger and tamer, and only a small guard outpost was stationed by the gate. While the land outside of the eastern gate had been farmland, however, a peek through a gap in the branches yielded only old forest, like what Ember’s escort had passed through on its way to the city.
From her perch on the root, Ember watched the other students arrive—most by draft animal, but a couple on foot—and exchanged a few words with them as they settled in to wait for Ophelia. Even Gunther, the overbearing pisces, had shed his blatant hostility after the capture-the-flag exercise.
Ophelia arrived exactly on time, riding on a speckled mare and followed closely by the insect TA and two graduate students. She dismounted carefully, and the class formed a semi-circle around her.
The instructor took a moment to survey the group. With the morning light glinting off of her silvery armor and her orange bristles undulating in the breeze, she looked all the part a sea creature.
“None of you are beginner fighters,” she began, “and the difficulty of our final exam reflects that. Today, you will all compete in a variation of the exercise called survivor. In this exercise, each of you will be issued a flare, which you must keep on your person at all times. Put simply, your goal is to be among the last to set off your flare.” Ember raised an eyebrow at Jisu, a silent comment on the fireworm’s vagueness. “The caveat,” Ophelia continued, “is that this exercise will take place in the lands outside of the western exit.”
A ripple of gasps passed through the group of students, and even Ember, who regularly went outside of the walls to visit Mr. Ernold, felt uneasy.
“Rest assured,” the fireworm added, “I have received permission from the headmaster’s office. Myself, along with three graduate students and the guard on duty will be monitoring the area. We will establish camp here, on the other side of the wall, where you must check in by sundown each evening. This will be a safe zone—no one will be spending the night in the forest alone, though we will not be supplying you with provisions, either.”
“Why outside the wall, though?” an amphibian asked nervously. Ember recognized him as Daniel, the Fowler’s toad who had served as the lookout for Ember’s team during capture the flag.
“The added barrier of the wall will make it difficult to cheat by returning to campus for supplies,” Ophelia explained. “My aim is to gauge your wilderness survival skills, as is befitting for the true purpose of our class.”
“What happens if we set off our flares?” Lance asked.
“Good question. You will stay in camp until the exercise is over.” A collective groan went up. “I can’t have you quitting early just to return to the comfort of your dorms, can I?”
“What’s the grading scale?” Ember chimed in.
“I was getting to that. The top 50% of students—the last seven to set off their flares—will pass. Out of those, the students in 4th and 5th place will receive Bs, and the top three students will receive As.”
She paused, allowing the students time to process what she had said. Ember realized her true intentions almost instantly: no one would want a long, drawn-out game of starvation, so what had been presented as a test of survival was to become a battle royale. After all, how can you ensure you’re the last to set off your flare unless you force others to do so first?
Ember’s eyes flitted around the semi-circle, watching the moment that each of the other students came to the same realization that she had.
“One last thing,” Ophelia added. “Since you must return to camp every night, it will be difficult to travel too far. Still, avoid wandering too deep into the forest, especially in the north. Now, gather your things. We will begin soon.”
With a flick of her wrist, she ordered the students to form a line, and she and the TAs inspected the items that they had been instructed to bring. Ember saw the hunger in her classmates’ eyes each time a particularly useful item was presented, realizing that an asset could quickly become a burden; she was glad that she had brought something less immediately desirable—a simple metal cup, used for cooking or boiling water.
After the inspection, Ophelia shepherded the class toward the gate. The students talked among themselves desperately, forming half-baked alliances or offering to trade supplies. Although Ophelia didn’t stop them, she didn’t give them much time either, cutting them off mid-sentence in a call for silence.
Ember looked for Lance and Jisu, finding the ermine in the center of the milling students and the panther on the fringes. She didn’t waste time inquiring after them, knowing that neither would be interested in winning by teaming up against the other students. Instead, she threaded her belt through the canteen’s hook and the cup’s handle, affixing them to her waist, and pushed her flare deep into a buttoned pocket.
Without preamble, Ophelia raised her arm, and she and the TAs spread out along the length of the wall. “Your one-minute head start begins now,” she announced.
Instantly, there was chaos. In their haste to run, several students fumbled their supplies. Meanwhile, others argued passionately about the terms of alliances already broken. Lance and Jisu disappeared between the trees, and out of the corner of her eye, Ember saw Daniel fade against a cluster of roots, visible only by her infrared.
Ember took only a fraction of a second to assess the situation before taking off at a brisk run, distancing herself from what would certainly become a bloodbath. When the wall was just out of sight, she scrambled up a nearby tree and tucked herself against its trunk.
Ophelia’s shout marked the beginning of the exam. Immediately after, a blast sounded as an orange flare streaked through the sky. I wonder who that was, Ember thought, scanning the forest below to make sure that she was alone before settling in to think.
There were two ways to win the fireworm’s game—she could fight, and risk being forced to use her flare herself, or she could attempt to outlast the others. Objectively, she was in a good position for the latter strategy: she required little food, she could use her infrared to watch for threats, and she was a strong climber (though not entirely safe from Jisu and Lance). Still… there’s no way I’m placing in the top three without a fight.
She sighed, shifting so that a ray of sun fell onto her skin, and half-closed her eyes, the upcoming thrill of a hunt sending an exciting shiver up her body. She wouldn’t degrade herself by wasting her strength in a melee—she’d bide her time, and when the opportunity came, she’d finish off her competitors and be the last to use her flare.
