“Now we’ve settled that, may I please have your enrolment papers?” Jarvis asked.
“They’re not for here, you know,” Alex pointed out as she handed them over.
“I just need some basic information to create your personal file,” he said, skimming the forms before placing the paperwork into the top drawer of his desk. He closed the drawer and a moment later opened it again, pulling out an entire folder. Alex’s eyes widened when she read the label: Alexandra Rose Jennings.
Jarvis withdrew a document out of her newly created file and handed it to Alex.
“How did—?” She shook her head, realising that it was probably best if she didn’t ask about the apparently magical file. She was in another world—anything was possible.
“Just sign on the line and you’ll be officially enrolled,” Jarvis said.
She skimmed the paper quickly, taking in the rules and regulations of enrolment. Everything seemed pretty normal until she read four words at the bottom of the page: ‘Alexandra Jennings: Potential Untested’.
What did that mean?
“Wonderful,” Jarvis said after she’d signed her name and handed the document back. “Now all that’s left is to see which classes you’ll be attending. I think the best way to go about this is to test you and explain the results afterwards.”
“Test me?” Alex repeated. “Test me for what?”
“For your potential, of course.”
“And that means…?”
“Before I explain, I need to tell you a little more about the academy,” Jarvis said. “We have five years of official education, with two additional years for students who are chosen to continue on as apprentices in specific subjects. Due to the demanding nature of the classes, the youngest enrolments we have are fourteen years of age, meaning that students graduate at eighteen—or twenty for the apprentices.”
“Ooo-kay,” Alex said, drawing the word out. None of this was really going to affect her since she’d be leaving as soon as the headmaster returned. “That still doesn’t explain what you mean by potential.”
“I’m getting there,” Jarvis promised. “Our classes are split into two categories: age-based and potential-based. There are five subjects for each. Core Skills, Medical Science, Species Distinction, History, and Studies of Society and Culture are all age-based classes; while Combat, Archery, PE, Chemistry, and Equestrian Skills are all potential-based.”
Combat? Species Distinction? Alex wondered if she’d heard right.
“You had your sixteenth birthday recently, correct?” Jarvis asked, glancing quickly at her file.
“Yeah, in July,” she answered, not sure if that meant anything to him. Was the calendar year the same on Medora as on Earth—err, Freya?
“That works out well then,” Jarvis commented. “Despite your lack of previous experience in the age-based subjects, you’ll still have to join with the third year class. Jordan and Bear are also in that class, so I’m sure they’ll help bring you up to speed.”
“Go team!” Jordan said, holding his hand up for a high-five.
Alex chuckled at his boyish expression before asking Jarvis, “How do you test for the potential subjects?”
Jarvis handed her a lollipop and she looked at it dubiously.
“Go on,” he urged. “This is the potential test.”
“That makes absolutely no sense,” she said, but she took the candy and unwrapped it, sticking it in her mouth. She swivelled her tongue around the foreign object, surprised at the different flavours it produced. Apple, cherry, grape, pineapple, orange. Every swirl brought a different fruity flavour to her mouth.
“Now,” Jarvis started again, “the potential-based classes are divided into five different levels of difficulty—Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta and Epsilon. The level you train at is based on your potential for that particular class. The potential-based subjects also tend to be the most physically demanding.”
“Like Combat?” Alex asked around the lollipop. “Is that even legal?”
“Akarnae abides by a unique set of laws,” Jarvis answered sketchily. “Our instructors are given free rein to do what they must in order to help bring out the best in our students.”
Well… that didn’t sound daunting at all.
“I can assure you that Combat is a favourite subject for many students,” Jarvis pressed on. “Very demanding, but educational nonetheless. Karter is the instructor for that class.”
Why was she not surprised? Big man. Leather costume. Sword. Total no-brainer, really.
She swirled the shrinking candy around her mouth, waiting for Jarvis to continue talking about the classes, but his attention was elsewhere.
“Where did I put that thing?” he muttered, rustling through the papers on his desk.
As she watched him, Alex unconsciously crunched down on the remaining sweet, chewing until only the stick remained.
“Aha!” Jarvis exclaimed, withdrawing a small, resealable bag. He indicated to the stick poking out of her mouth. “All done?”
She nodded and he motioned for her to drop the stick inside the bag. Alex did as directed and, after he sealed it and placed it on his desk, she watched in amazement as the bag disappeared, replaced by a single piece of paper.
“How—?”
“New world, new rules,” Jordan said, laughing at the gobsmacked expression on her face.
Right. She’d have to remember that in the coming days.
“Well, this is certainly a surprise,” Jarvis mumbled to himself as he read the words on the paper.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Some of your results are… unexpected.”
He handed over the sheet of paper and Jordan and Bear leaned in to read with her.
Potential Test: Alexandra Rose Jennings
Combat ~ Epsilon
Equestrian Skills ~ Epsilon
PE ~ Delta
Archery ~ Gamma
Chemistry ~ Gamma
After reading the page, Alex looked up to find her friends staring at her with shocked expressions.
“What?” she asked.
Jordan looked like he was about to burst out laughing. “This is going to be a great year.”
She frowned slightly when Bear smirked and nodded his agreement. What was up with them? She turned back to Jarvis to see his countenance still unchanged from before. “Why do you look so… apprehensive?”
“I’m just surprised by your results,” he said again. “Particularly for Combat.”
“Why?” Alex asked. “Epsilon is the lowest grade, right?”
The three of them stared at her with varying degrees of pity.
“Epsilon is our most advanced ranking, Alex,” Jarvis corrected. “It’s the highest level of training we have on offer here. Despite all our students being re-tested each year, very few manage to rate at an Epsilon level for anything. Ever. Often the students in Epsilon classes are the apprentices who have been chosen to remain behind for specialised training, or those students who have the aptitude to become apprentices after their fifth year.”
Alex felt the blood drain from her face. That couldn’t be right.
“At present,” Jarvis continued, “I believe there are only five other students in the Epsilon class for Combat, all of whom are at least a year older than you. As for Equestrian Skills, there are only six other students in your Epsilon class. One of them is your age, but the rest are older again.”