Varre was eager to learn more so he decided to investigate the recruitment process in more detail. The massive entrance hall was only the first step. It was intended as a waiting room, holding all of the candidates inside a warm environment. Meanwhile, a single assistant stood by, ready to direct them further.

  Elvira led the king into one of the mansion’s corridors. The actual talent checks were conducted in individual rooms, giving everyone a bit of privacy. A team of six mages worked around the clock, each paired with another commoner assistant who would record the results on parchment.

  The Court Mage entered one of the rooms just before the test was about to begin. A slightly nervous teenager sat on a chair, waiting. He stood up as soon as he noticed the visitors. Ermine coats, golden jewelry, opulent clothes. Varre typically left his crown at the castle, but even without it, it was obvious that he and his companions were extremely important and influential people.

  The commoner assistant recognized the monarch and immediately got down to his knees. He was a servant directly working for the crown, so he knew how to act. The wizard in charge of the examination stood up from his desk, but remained upright. He was a noble and there was no need for him to be that deferential.

  By now, Varre understood the social contract. The king was more important than the aristocrats, but the difference between them wasn’t that vast. Knights were further down the ladder, and dukes were higher, but ultimately their relationship with the monarch was closer to that between a CEO and their employees, that the former earthling had seen back in his previous life. Or that of a head of department at university and the students, which he experienced first hand.

  The king had more wealth, and power, but the nobility had their own rights and privileges. He couldn’t just abuse them or treat them however he wished. Even if the aristocrat acted rude first, Varre had to be careful. If he reacted too harshly, word would get out and there would be an outrage among the nobles. The one thing they feared most was setting a bad precedent and losing their prestige. He had seen the effects of angry knights during the recent rebellion. And that was sparked by mere rumors and gossip.

  The divide between the monarch and the commoners though was ocean deep. They had to kneel in his presence and could be punished freely for any disrespect shown. Whether real or imagined. That’s why when the teenager froze in place rather than bowing down, he was taking a huge risk.

  It didn’t matter whether he failed to recognize Varre, or was too shocked to act. He was supposed to kneel. The wizard present in the room tried to help him out, clearing his throat and pointing to the ground.

  The teenager grimaced, realized his mistake, and was about to follow through, before Varre raised his hands to stop him. Luckily, the monarch wasn’t that big on following protocol. And even less so on punishing commoners for breaking old laws he didn’t agree with.

  “Don’t worry,” the king said, “it’s alright. What’s your name?”

  “T-Tim, sir!” the teenager replied.

  “It’s your majesty,” the wizard corrected him.

  The boy opened his mouth wider, freezing yet again. Another mistake that could cost him his freedom.

  Varre chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood. “It’s fine, Tim. Please, take a seat. Do you mind if I watch the procedure? I’m curious about how it works.”

  Once he realized that he wasn’t in trouble after all, the teenager immediately sank into his seat. He wouldn’t dare to stop the monarch from joining in, so he eagerly accepted instead.

  The king pulled up a chair of his own, and his companions observed the process from a distance. Varre had gone through many talent checks already, but it was always a private affair with Elvira in charge.

  Technically, the monarch’s attributes were a heavily guarded state secret. If an enemy managed to learn about the details, it would make planning an assassination attempt that much easier. Even if there weren’t any malicious reasons involved, just the fact of the information going public was a major risk.

  Though he was working hard to catch up on years of lost progress, the king was still far behind his veteran Royal Guards. This wasn’t the case with his predecessor. Mikkel III had spent his entire life getting groomed for his eventual position and was a powerful warrior by the time he ascended to the throne. Most monarchs were strong. If the nobles found out that his levels were much closer to their own than expected, they’d lose some of their respect. It was best to keep it ambiguous.

  It was bad practice to write down the results of a talent check. Benjamin only did so a couple of times, when the details had to be presented to Kerryn and help him tailor a training regimen. Then, the notes were destroyed. Normally, the numbers simply had to be memorized. And if they were forgotten, another test would need to be arranged.

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  The commoners didn’t face the same problems. Here, it was the assistant's job to record everything and hand it off to Elvira. She and her subordinates would sift through it later and decide which applicants would be accepted to her new academy. They needed to know about their options before deciding on specific quantities.

  Once he was ready, the wizard pulled out a stone tablet and passed it to Tim. The boy grabbed it and held it in the appropriate position. Then, the mage released some of his aura into the device until it shone with a blue light.

  “Power, 11. Aura 13,” the wizard read off the results, “no abilities.”

  The assistants diligently wrote everything down. Since the teenager was just a commoner who never had any real training, his enhanced stats were exactly the same as his naturals. No need to read them off.

  “Is… is that good?” Tim asked.

  “The aura’s decent,” the mage explained as he took the tablet out of the boy’s hands, “we could maybe find some use for it. Power’s a little low though.”

  “They’re much higher than mine were before I took the throne,” Varre whispered to his companions, “and I know they can be raised higher with training. Is it really that unimpressive?”

  “There’s thousands of commoners to go through,” Elvira replied, “we try to focus on the extraordinary ones first. They can be trained further, but it’s always easier to start from a higher baseline.”

  “So he has no chance?” the king asked.

  “He won’t be a combat mage. Even his shield would be a little weak,” the Court Mage theorized, “but good aura is very important for communication mages. They need to be able to sustain connection for long periods of time. He could be an alchemist too. Maybe even an assistant to a healer. I’ll have to compare him to the others we’re working with.”

  “Why would an alchemist need to use magic?”

  “Some of the procedures require spells,” Elvira explained, “you may need to keep a steady, consistent fire going, or use your aura to keep two layers of liquid separate until the right moment. It’s a higher level technique, but necessary for some potions.”

  The teenager looked a little dismayed at the lukewarm response, but accepted the information graciously. He was then asked about any other siblings, especially those who were not even considered for the position by his parents. Once all the information had been recorded, he was allowed to leave.

  The mage proceeded to the next candidate. Over the next hour, he tested three more potential recruits. The procedure was very mechanical and it was obvious that he had been doing it for many days already. Most of the time was spent meticulously recording every bit of data of the prospective students.

  “Wouldn’t it be faster to have this be done in another room?” Varre suggested, “we can always get more scribes. They can write everything down, while the wizard can purely focus on testing students. The actual check only takes a few minutes.”

  “You’re right, but it wouldn’t change much,” Elvira replied, “they don’t look like it, but each test is taxing. The tablet devours aura. The mage needs frequent breaks to rest and recover.”

  The king stopped to look closer at the wizard. He sat in a comfortable chair and had easy access to water and even a small meal. He often took sips from his goblet, or picked up some fruits as he waited for the assistant to record the results.

  “I can see that. How many can you test in a day before you run out?” Varre asked.

  “It depends on your aura,” the Court Mage said, “we split our people into shifts. Half of them work for around six hours in the morning. The other half in the afternoon. If they feel like they can’t last, they’re free to take longer breaks, or finish earlier.”

  “And what about the candidates in the entrance hall?”

  “If we run out of time, they’re welcome to come again tomorrow,” she explained, “this is a generational opportunity. We have people working in the city, spreading the word. They ensure that we have a steady stream coming and they tell people to show up on a different day if there’s too many.”

  “Efficient,” the king noted, “how long will it take you to check through the whole city?”

  Elvira pondered this for a moment. “Maybe two, three more weeks. We’re not exactly sure how many children there are in the city, but we can’t keep waiting forever. Eventually, we’ll need to start the lectures.

  “While we’re doing this, I’m working on changing our curriculum, together with Perry and Jury. The communication, healing, and alchemy courses are ready, but we’re still deciding on what kinds of combat spells we should focus on. And how to go about our new shielding mages.”

  “Excellent work,” Varre congratulated her, “keep it up.”

  Of the three candidates that were tested next, two had both attributes below ten. Completely uninteresting to any of the wizards in the room. But the third one was different.

  “Power 16… Aura 14?” the wizard leaned closer to make sure he was reading the tablet correct, “no abilities. That’s fine… Impressive, Carol. Very impressive.”

  She was the daughter of a seamstress, studying to follow in her mother’s footsteps. That gave her plenty of opportunities to sit still with her thoughts and focus on concentration and meditation. Of course most seamstresses never reached this level, so she must have had a natural predisposition to the magical arts on top of her profession.

  It was her brother who first showed up for the test a few days ago. His results were decent, but as the son of a blacksmith, his focus was on other areas. Fortunately the assistants asked him to invite his siblings for a check as well.

  “She’s the perfect candidate for combat training,” Elvira whispered, clearly excited.

  “How impressive is she?” Varre asked.

  “For someone with no training whatsoever?” the Court Mage paused to think, “that’s a very, very rare power. I’ve seen such numbers before, but at her age? That’s what I’d expect from a noble whose parents decided on this path from childhood. Someone with a dedicated coach, who worked with them and developed their skills. Quite different from a self taught commoners.”

  “That’s the talent we’d have missed out on if we weren’t doing this program,” the king pointed out, “now, we can give the commoners a chance to excel.”

  “Indeed. And this is just the beginning,” Elvira smiled.