Chapter Five: Competency | Part 1
The second week of classes added a new layer of chaos to the seniors’ workload.
“You should all know the drill now,” Professor C called to the throng of students waiting to enter her classroom. “I’m managing part of the preparatory curriculum for the Law Comp, so if you’re Comping for law, sit on the left side of the room. If you’re not, sit on the right.”
It was the third block of the day, and all of Thirtyx and Rhea’s classes had been segregated in this manner. It made Thirtyx simultaneously anxious that he had no plans to Comp and thankful he wouldn’t have to endure the extra work.
“You should see the Magic Comp packet we got from our runic theory class,” Rhea said as they inched forward in line. “I may need the palace to send me a whole crate of inert pencils. I think even Benn underestimated, and you know how prepared he typically is.”
“You could always hire me to draw your sigils with a normal pencil,” Thirtyx said cheerfully. “My rates start at four coin per bar.”
“Not on your life,” Rhea scoffed. “Why don’t you Comp for something so you can get a real job?”
Thirtyx put his hand to his heart in mock offense. “Excuse me, I can get a perfectly real job without a Competency exam. As a matter of fact, I hear palace catering pays decently, if you’re willing to hook me up. I wouldn’t even be tempted to eat the food for all your fancy parties.”
Rhea rolled her eyes. “You’re going to waste your Wydewood education being a caterer?”
The student at the front of the line frowned at Professor C. “Wait, do you mean left as you walk in, or left facing the front?”
Professor C answered with a sickly sweet grin. “That kind of question is the reason you’ll be sitting on the right, Mr. Scaax.” Her peppy tone and charismatic Selkie countenance almost completely disguised the sarcasm.
As Thirtyx and Rhea exchanged smirks, she brushed her left earlobe, and he felt an itch in his brain. I hope you know I’m kidding, and that I understand why you’re not Comping.
It was Thirtyx’s turn to roll his eyes. You act like I have reasons besides a lack of interest in any careers that require a Comp.
Well, don’t you?
Thirtyx frowned. Not… big… ones.
Just ahead of them, a shy Troll girl tucked her hair behind her ears. “Professor C, is it alright that I haven’t quite decided yet?”
“It is for now. Sit on the left, because I don’t want you falling behind if you choose to take the test, but I encourage you to decide as soon as possible. Ah, Miss Grimmary! Will I have the pleasure of having you in my Competency group?”
Rhea plastered on her sweetest dignitary smile. “Afraid not, Professor. I’ll be Comping for magic.”
Professor C’s frown was almost a pout. “I see. I can’t fault your father for that logic, but is it really what you want? You have a truly impressive aptitude for law.”
“I have a truly impressive aptitude for magic as well, Professor.” Rhea’s frustration leaked through her mental connection with Thirtyx. “It’s Grimmary’s desire that the future rulers of Lamiakk continue to be accomplished and certified sorcerers.”
“Well of course!” Professor C batted her Selkie lashes. “But you’re such a driven student, Rhea. Think of what a strong message it would send if you Comped for both—if the future queen proved her mastery of our world’s legal system, and—”
“I’m not Comping for law, Professor C,” Rhea cut in. “And if you have any further concerns about my educational plan, I suggest you take them up with the king.”
Professor C’s resulting scowl swept from Rhea to Thirtyx. “Right side of the room, then, you two.”
Calley Jones 