It took more days than Canticle had anticipated for the Sphere of Shadow to be ready to test Apprentice Rorschach Stormshadow, and determine if he is fit to become a Journeyman. However, the appointed time has arrived at last, and his testing has begun.

The first part of the test, variously regarded the hardest and the easiest, depending on your mindset, was the Theoretical. In this test, which took the first day, Rory had to demonstrate his knowledge of magical theory and his understanding of the spheres on a written exam. He also had to prove his competence at non-magical stealth, to show that he understood the mundane principles on which his magical practice was built.

By the time the written test is over, Rory's not sure if his unconventional training from Koshiro has been a hindrance or a help. Some of the questions were especially hard to answer, as lessons Koshiro ingrained in him were in direct opposition to what he remembers from his College days. Often he can't remember the "conventional" answer at all – only what Koshiro told him – and he's left with only a vague feeling that the shadow dragon's logic didn't mesh with … whatever it was that the College believed. And what if College research has changed their answers since his time under their tutelage, so many year ago?

Koshiro's teaching is freshest in Rory's mind, especially since he's spent several years under his tutelage (even if the little unicorn hasn't fully realized exactly how much time has indeed passed). Nonetheless, he never has managed to completely grasp Koshiro's concept of Shadow, Life and Light as a single sphere; though he does stick to Koshiro's spell casting methods and instruction to the best of his ability, he still sees the spheres as separate entities, even if they might have a bit of overlap and have the potential for combined uses.

Despite such difficulties, Rory finished the exam feeling good about his performance on it. Few of the questions seemed a real challenge to him, and he feels relaxed as he waits for the testing Mage to return for him. Some time passes, and he starts to wonder if he misunderstood and he's supposed to go look for the mage to turn his work in to, but at last the master mage returns. She's a Lapi only a couple of inches taller than Rory, with brown and white fur, dressed in the deep violet robes of a Shadow mage. She frowns as she sees the young unicorn fidgeting in his chair. "Are you done already?"

Rory swings his legs back and forth, dangling the tips of his hooves just above the floor. "Mmm-hmm!" he says, nodding, smiling in what he hopes is a winning manner. "Checked and double-checked!"

The rabbit – she introduced herself as Mage Heather when they met – sniffs disdainfully. She paces to Rory's desk and scoops the pages into her hand. "Well. We shall see. Follow me." She whirls around and heads back to the door.

Rory's confident smile drops immediately at the disdainful sniff. Even though the pages haven't been examined yet, he entertains sudden horrific notions that he might have skipped an entire section of the test by mistake (maybe the pages were stuck) and wishes just as suddenly that he could wind time back a bit so he could triple- and quadruple-check his test now.

"You have completed the first half of the Theoretical test, Apprentice Rory," Mage Heather says, leading him out of the Sphere of Shadow and into the gardens. It sounds like she's emphasizing the word "apprentice" more than necessary, but maybe he's imagining that. "The second part of the Theoretical Test is intended to prove your skill at one of the mundane elements of the Sphere of Shadow. You contend that your mundane skill is 'stealth', so this will be a test of stealth. Remember: You may not use magic in any way during this test. Doing so will disqualify you instantly," she informs him sternly.

The unicorn grimaces at this. "Can I use hoof-wrappings?" he asks.

"You may use any non-magical methods available. That includes hoof-wrappings," Heather tells him.

Rory nods. "All right." Without wasting time, he immediately sets himself down on his tail, opens up a pouch, and pulls out some bindings to start running around his hooves. Hooves, after all, do not lend themselves all that well to sneaking around places that occasionally have flagstones and cobbles to step on.

The rabbit mage doesn't look too happy about the delay, despite having authorized it, and she taps her fingers against her arm while she waits. When he's done, she leads him towards the pavilion at the lawn's center. "Your task will be to capture a Feep that will be loose somewhere in this garden, without triggering the we have alarms placed around it. These alarms are 'sound sensitive' and will be triggered by any noises you make. This – " and here she points to a small will o' wisp of light, maybe three inches in diameter, hovering beneath the canopy, one side glowing blue, the other, white, " – is the Feep."

The master mage continues, "It is a scrying golem. It is sensitive to sound in all directions. It is also sensitive to motion on the blue side – meaning, if the blue side is towards you, and you move, it will detect that motion. If it detects either sound or motion, it will 'pop' after a half-second delay. 'Popping' does not mean you have failed. When it 'pops', it merely shifts to a new position within a fifteen yard radius of its previous location." She pauses, eyeing the unicorn apprentice. "Do you understand me so far?"

Rory nods emphatically. "Yes, ma'am." He tries to get a closer look at the golem, as he is unfamiliar with Feeps. Accordingly, he does so quietly, even though his acknowledgement just counted as making a noise.

Heather frowns again, for no discernable reason. "You will have this net – " she points to a net that looks suspiciously like a butterfly net, " – to aid you in capturing the Feep. The Feep will not go outside the confines of the lawn and hedge maze, as demarcated by the white ribbons fencing in this area." She gestures around, indicating the posts between which white ribbons have been strung. They encompass most of the lawn, all of the hedge maze, and some of the flower beds. "The alarms, which are concealed on these grounds, are not as sensitive to sound as the Feep, and they do not sense motion. The first two times you set off an alarm, it will pop the Feep. If you set them off a third time, you will fail this section of the testing. If you do not capture the Feep within an hour of the test beginning, you will fail this portion of your testing. If you use any kind of magic in any way, you will fail. Do you have any questions?"

Rory nods and holds up a hand, out of habit, then remembers himself, and goes ahead and asks, "Will other movement set off the Feep? I mean, if a wind blows through here? Is it smart enough not to pay attention to fluttering ribbons or shifting bushes?"

The Feep revolves slowly above the platform, its blue half shedding a glow so pale as to almost be imperceptible. Heather nods brusquely. "Both the alarms and the Feep have been tuned to respond to your movements and the sounds you cause. If you rustle a branch, it will react. If the wind rustles one, it will not respond."

Rory nods. "Oh." Mentally, he rules out any clever plans of disguising himself by tying vines around his horn and sticking branches out of his robes. "Uhm … how high does it float, or does that change? I mean, can it see over the hedge maze?"

The rabbit looks for a moment like she's thinking of not answering, but she finally concedes, grudgingly, "It floats at this height." For a moment he thinks she's about to say something else, but she doesn't. In the distance, he notices a few other master mages in purple robes watching them. They're not trying to hide, obviously, but they're not being especially conspicuous, either.

Rory nods again. "Thank you very much for answering all my questions, ma'am. I guess I'm ready to go." He grits his teeth in nervous anticipation.

Heather turns to the Feep. She gestures to it, then speaks a single syllable. It vanishes. "The test has begun," she tells Rory, and walks at a stately pace away.

The unicorn closes his mouth tightly – too late to think of any more questions now! He tries to slowly scan his surroundings before turning his head, to see if by some chance the Feep is actually already in position to see him where he's standing. That would be terribly sneaky, but who knows if that might be part of the test?

The Lapine mage hasn't even made it off the lawn before Rory spots the Feep's new location. The tiny scrying golem has its "back" – the white side – to the unicorn, meaning that it can't see him moving now – assuming that Heather was telling the truth, anyway. The Feep drifts languidly over the lawn. It's in the middle of the open grass, a few dozen yards from the hedge maze.

The unicorn stoops down to clamber – as carefully as he can – off the platform. At this point, he is not particularly rushed, as he has not observed the Feep in action yet, and – it occurs to him – he has no idea how much ground it can cover. For the time being, he is more concerned with generally working toward the Feep and keeping himself hidden – and making a mental note of the layout, in case he has to retrace his steps.

Unfortunately, once he leaves the central pavilion, there's no cover at all between him and the Feep, so the best he can do is hope it doesn't turn around. On the other hand, it is drifting south towards the hedge maze, and that would provide Rory with plenty of cover. Of course, then he couldn't see the Feep to catch it. As he hoofs towards it across the grass, he notices the Feep is rotating. He catches a glimpse of blue – and if it keeps turning like that, in another few seconds the blue side will be towards him enough to catch him in its motion-detecting arc.

Rory tries to gauge whether he has a chance to get behind the platform in time to hide. Toward that end, he tries to move around to the side between the platform and the hedge in hopes of getting to a hiding spot, but if the orb is going to rotate too quickly – he'll just have to drop and be still and hope that's good enough.

A glance to the pavilion's corner tells Rory it's too far away. He abandons his plan to try to make it there, and instead tries to fall – softly! – to the ground and freeze. Unfortunately, just as he's turning back to watch the Feep, and fall to the ground, he sees the blue and white halves of the sphere come into perfect profile. Then – it vanishes.

Rory frowns at this. At this rate, I'll complete the test in record time – by failing! He scans his surroundings, just in case, once again, he might be starting off in full view of the Feep.

Luckily, the Feep has, indeed, reappeared where Rory can see it from here – he doesn't even have to turn his head, just scan with his eyes. It's about a dozen yards south and a little east of its previous position, leaving it about a dozen yards north of the hedge maze. Unfortunately, the blue side faces him squarely at the moment.

Rory does his best … to just … sit … still.

Apparently, the unicorn is succeeding, because the Feep doesn't pop. It rotates slowly, and starts to drift north this time. What seems like an eternity passes, but it's probably only about a minute later when its rotation has taken the blue face out of profile with Rory. He can still see the blue sliver, but assuming that its arc of motion detection is only 180 degrees, it shouldn't be able to sense his movement anymore.

Rory carefully tries to make his way along, keeping along near the hedge, not risking an all-out run in order to catch up to the Feep, but to be in a good position to still be able to still keep track of its movement if the Feep goes wholly around the corner or behind a new obstacle.

The Feep keeps drifting north for the moment, taking it farther from the hedge, and away from any other obstacles. Its current, slow, clockwise rotation means it'll be another minute or so before the blue side comes into sight of him. For a moment, the unicorn is so focused on the Feep that he almost steps on a branch clipped from the hedge – but he catches himself in time and averts it. He gets to a position beside the hedge, directly south of the Feep, about fourteen yards from it, due to its current drift. Rory can see the sliver of blue on its face, rotating back towards him.

Rory reasons that the problem here isn't being seen, per se, but being in motion when the Feep spots him, and therefore being in the open isn't going to make all that much difference – as the hedge isn't to his mind low enough to provide any useful sort of cover for him, but rather to just make things for difficult should the Feep actually make it that far. That in mind, he attempts to make use of the time to cover as much ground as he safely can between himself and the Feep, allowing enough time to get down on the ground and get still before it's too late (hopefully).

The unicorn boy clips carefully over the grass until the ball of light has almost rotated into profile again. He comes to a halt just before that point, and teeters, off balance. For one fearful moment, he thinks the wisp will sense his arms pinwheeling, but he gets himself under control again, frozen, while it continues to drift his way. His current stance is terribly uncomfortable, however … and he'll have to hold it another minute if he wants to keep the Feep from popping.

Not having any choice in the matter, he does his best to hold that position, just so. After all, he reasons in a calm-sounding mental voice quite at odds with the frozen look of nail-biting terror on his face, it's not like I can arrange for a distraction, like might work with a person.

As he ponders the unfairness and unrealistic nature of the test, the wind ruffles his mane, sending a forelock into one eye. Grrrr. The Feep doesn't seem to care, however. Finally, the consistently clockwise rotation takes the blue side out of his range, placing the white side comfortably dominant again.

Once he's certain that he can breathe freely again, he does so – or, at least, as freely as he can without making noise. He moves gingerly from his position at first, lest anything have fallen asleep during the stance and he get an unpleasant surprise (and a sudden fall). He tries to make headway toward the Feep, before he'll have to play "statue" again.

The young unicorn makes it within net reach in perhaps twenty-five seconds, and the white side is completely towards him. The thing ought to be wholly blind to his motions at this moment.

Rory readies the net to the best of his ability, and resolves to put the net over the ball with as little in the way of wild motions as he can manage – and to ignore the loud thumping of his own heartbeat in his ears.

Fwoosh! The ball flickers as the net comes down over it, and for a moment Rory thinks, It's going to pop out of the net! This isn't fair! Then the butterfly net glitters, and contracts around the wisp, glowing like a purple web. He's got it!

Rory beams! He doesn't squeal out or anything like that, as much as he'd like to. It occurs to him that he's not entirely certain when the test is officially over. He carefully draws in the bundle, still reluctant to believe that he's managed to catch the Feep.

As he's curling the netted Feep to his chest, it feels like he's caught a small bird. It flutters and pulses inside the net, and has a faint radiant warmth about it. Heather crosses the grass towards the unicorn, arms folded across her chest, while he's still trying to decide if he's won or not. She has a scowl on her face as she holds out one hand for the net. "I'll take that and the Feep, thank you. The second part of the Journeyman testing will begin tomorrow at midnight. You will then work the ritual spell 'Nightfall'. You may use the remainder of the day as you please."

"May I have permission to shout for joy and dance a jig now, ma'am?" Rory asks.

The rabbit almost looks like she wants to growl at him, but there's a twitch around the corner of her mouth that makes him think that maybe, just maybe, she's suppressing a smile. She snatches the net from his hands, and snaps, "Do whatever you like." Off the lawn, Rory notices the two purple-robed mages still watching him. One of them looks to be laughing.

Rory needs no further encouragement, and – turning away from the rabbit out of polite deference to sensitive Lapi ears – lets out as loud of a whoop as he can, releasing all his pent-up anxiety as he starts bouncing around in a spontaneous jig. "I got the Feep! I got the Feep! Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I got the Feep! WHOO!"

By now, he can hear both of the distant mages laughing, but if Heather makes so much as a giggle, he doesn't catch it. She departs, to all appearances, fuming.

The young unicorn, still elated from his Feep-victory, walks through the gardens on his way back to the Sphere of Shadow. Silhouette springs into view before him, signing with the same enthusiasm that Rory feels, "I saw you on the lawn! You were great! How did the written test go?"

Rory hmms. "I thought I did a pretty good job," he says, "but I haven't gotten my results back. I think I finished a bit early. I really hope I didn't overlook something." He grits his teeth. "Catching the Feep was a really hard test. If each test gets harder … uh … then I might be still having to do more apprenticing before I get my Journeyman status."

"Nuh-uh!" The shadow girl shakes her head and adds signs for further emphasis. "I know you're way more qualified than most people who are Journeymen. You know everything about magic! I'm sure it'll be a snap."

Rory wipes his brow (mindful of snagging his sleeve on his horn). "Well, maybe … but I'm going to be careful, that's for sure! I've never seemed to be all that good at sneaking around, though. I think it's the hooves. Maybe I need to try something better than hoof-bindings."

"Maybe. You could get padded shoes," Sil suggests. "But you hardly had any trouble at all with the Feep. You only made it pop once. It only took you maybe ten minutes to catch it, and you had a whole hour."

She adds, "What comes next? Did they tell you what ritual you're doing first for the Practical?"

"Really?" Rory asks, blinking in surprise. "It seemed like a lot longer than that at the time." He shakes his head, then addresses the question. "Oh. Nightfall. Uhm … I'll need to study up on my notes for that."

Silhouette continues to walk with him back to their current lodgings in Shadow. "Nightfall? Have you ever done that ritual before?"

"No, not really," Rory confesses. "Though it's generally just a more powerful version of other spells I've done. It makes darkness cover about a mile or so. That's just not the sort of thing you go using around the College Esoterica, you know, since it's sort of … uhm … distracting."

"It's not total darkness," Rory adds. "But it can be pretty creepy. Or it can be pretty handy – especially on a really hot blistery day and you badly need shade for a large gathering."

"Doesn't seem very sociable," Silhouette agrees. "I wonder if anyone will mind? At least it's summer time. The shade will be nice."

Rory grins. "I hope everyone thinks so! Any road … c'mon! I'm going to head down to the sweets shop and treat myself in celebration of my victory over the Mighty Feep – and I'll fix up something for you, too!"

"You are to cast the spell upon this dais," Heather instructs the young unicorn, as he reports for the continued testing late in the evening on the next day. "If you receive any assistance in working the spell, you will fail. If you break your concentration, fizzle the spell, or stop casting for any reason, you will fail. You have only one opportunity to succeed. You may not ask me any question regarding the correct elements or reagents needed for casting." She pauses for breath, then takes a seat on one of the chairs, fixing Rory with her green-brown eyes. "Everything you need is in this room. You may begin when ready."

Rory lets out a long breath (as she didn't say that being absolutely quiet was a requirement). "All right." He beams. "I won't let you down!" He begins to look around and assess his surroundings for the requisite components and how the shape of the dais might affect the construction of his magic circle, and other magely things like that.

"All right … candles … check. Colored sand … check. Nice smooth stones … check. Nifty-looking gizmo that I don't know what it does … check. Ugly little grimacing gargoyle idol thingies … check. Somebody lost a shekel … check. Gum stuck under the edge of the desk … check," Rory goes off in business-like fashion, even though most of the items he finds are not on his list.

Rory looks over his shoulder toward Heather as he gathers up some components. "Do we get points for style?" he asks. "I could, like, make up a song and stick it in during the dull points."

The unicorn can almost feel the Lapine mage bristling as he questions her. "No," she says, the single syllable clipped. "You. Do. Not. Get. Points. For. Style."

Rory frowns, disappointed. "Would it be okay for me to stick something in just to make it more fun? I could make a song about you, if you'd like."

Heather glowers at the unicorn. "I suggest, young man, that you get on with the ritual according to the prescribed methods. If you are so certain of your mastery of this particular spell that you feel the need to make it more fun instead of approaching the business of magic with the respect and attention that it deserves, however … " She draws in a breath, eyes narrowed. "Far be it from me to stop you." Something about the way she says "me" sounds threatening.

"Uhm … it's just … uh … a way to … uhm … make things … lighter," Rory says meekly, "so I won't be so nervous. I didn't mean to be disrespectful." He decides to return to his business with a little more haste. All the better to be out from under the disapproving gaze of the judge, at the rate he's losing ground …

Heather sits in one of the chairs a row back from the dais, in the "audience" area of the room, watching Rory. Perhaps thirty minutes after he has begun the spell, a Gallah walks in. At first, Rory would take the newcomer for a civilian, dressed as she is in dark trousers and poet's shirt – but a mage's chain hangs around her neck. She sets one booted foot on the empty chair next to Heather, glancing to the apprentice. "Nightfall?" she inquires, glancing to the stage.

The rabbit looks up at her, and nods.

"Unusual choice for a Journeyman's test," the Gallah remarks. She fingers the chain around her neck, looking at the unicorn again.

Rory keeps at his work, chanting his spell in a more business-like fashion than he usually does. (No points for style, he reminds himself.) It's a very long-running spell, and so he has a bagged lunch to one side (nothing that might crawl away, for sure – purely vegetarian for today), and he's improvised a cushion to sit on during the "sit-down" parts, so his tail doesn't fall asleep.

"He's an unusual candidate," Heather replies. She scowls at the stage, and gets to her feet. "This whole affair is absurd. This candidate is a child, by the First Ones! He should not even have been trained in the art of magic, much less be tested for Journeyman status." She kicks the chair in front of her, and it topples over, skittering across the floor until the back clinks against the edge of the dais on which the unicorn is casting.

Rory's ears droop, but he keeps at his chanting. It's not like this revelation of Heather's attitude is any surprise by now. And I guess she's got a point, he ponders. Who'd hire me to protect them? He tries to shake that out of his mind – purely mentally, that is – as he has more important matters to attend to at the moment. He can feel sorry for himself properly later.

The Gallah, a short-muzzled woman with curly, salt-and-pepper fur, watches the outburst with apparent calm. "I see your point. I, for one, am glad that the College now knows better than to educate adolescents in the ways of magery."

"Bah! And we ought to know better than to call them 'Journeymen'! What sort of mage will he make, with his jigs and his songs? 'Journeyboy', perhaps." The rabbit turns from the stage. "I've had enough of this farce. You watch him, if you can stand it, Mage Lanthia." With that, the other mage heads for the back of the room.

More chanting, and now it's time for Rory to make a slow dance around the circle, to save his breath for a while, and stretch his legs.

Lanthia watches her go without comment, eyes still calm and level. After a moment, she steps to the stage. She moves the way Rory wishes he did, noiseless as Silhouette. He can't even hear her breathing as she lifts the chair. She sets it back in its place, and it makes a slight clink against the floor. The sound confirms that her stealth is innate, not magical, and she sits in it, watching him.

More people filter in, sitting in the ranks of chairs. They whisper amongst themselves – mostly master mages and journeymen, by their robes, but also a few civilians. Before too long, it seems like he is performing to an audience of a couple dozen curious eyes, as well as the quiet Mage Lanthia, seated alone in the front row.

Rory makes a mental note to find out if Mage Lanthia teaches any classes on stealth techniques, but nonetheless keeps to the task of going around the circle. As much as he'd like to greet the newcomer, he has no idea whatsoever what her attitude might be regarding his particular style, and decides that she probably won't award any more points for style than Heather would, or else it wouldn't be a very fair test. Clippity-clippity clop clop.

By Rory's estimate, the spell should probably be done by noon. On the surface, this spell would commonly take four hours to complete, and at sky island level it would take four times that – sixteen hours, total – but the little shadow mage has discovered that he can take "shortcuts" to cast spells a little more quickly than usual.

As the night wears on, the audience filters out again, until at last only the speckled canine remains. Rory is about half-way through the spell when she stands from her chair and moves to the dais. She drums her fingers on its edge, staring up at him. "Mage Heather is right, boy. You know that, don't you?"

Lanthia goes on, her eyes cool and hard on the young unicorn as he continues the chant. "But you know, that is not what truly worries me, child." She shifts to sit on the edge of the dais – uncomfortably close to his circle, though not near enough to disrupt it. "I am more concerned by your … training. Or lack thereof. That unconventional monster whom Canticle claims 'instructed' you in distant Lamu. I have watched you cast for hours now. I am not convinced you are any better than a hedge wizard. You cannot hope to represent the College."

Rory takes the initial question as rhetorical, since answering it in the middle of a chant would kill his very lengthy ritual. For now, he focuses on casting his spell. As much as he'd like to try to formulate some sort of defense, some sort of response, now is not the time – and he's not really sure he'd have much to say regardless.

The Gallah draws out a dagger from a sheath at her side, the steel hissing against leather. "I have seen better mages than you die when put to the test," she whispers, trimming one fingernail with the tip of the blade. She sounds sad as she speaks, her words carrying more emotion than her earlier vitriol. Then she glances back to him. "It is not too late. Give this up. Quit the ritual, the College. This path is not meant for you."

The unicorn's ears flush at the sound of the dagger being drawn. Wild thoughts flicker through his mind, that perhaps this mage is somehow unstable … or that something may be amiss, and quite beyond his understanding. Attempting to bolster his own confidence, he insists to himself that it must be just part of the test. A distraction. That's it.

A very Babelite thought strikes him as well – that it might well be that even if he gets cut with that knife, that may be part of the test, too.

"No?" Lanthia watches him a moment longer, then turns away. "Do as you will, then, and wallow in your folly. I will have no further part in this." She sheathes the blade again, and slides from the dais without a sound. Noiselessly, she vanishes from the room. At some point while she talked, another purple robe had entered, and sits near the back, watching him.

*thump-thump-thump-thump* pounds Rory's heart in his ears. He retreats into the relatively mind-numbing pattern of the magic, careful about the placements of his hooves and hands, the utterances of his mouth, the movements of stones and candles and adjustments of lines of chalk, rather than to try to make any sense of the adult drama going on around him.

More time passes. Outside, it must be well past dawn. Rory suspects his sole observer has fallen asleep, from the occasional quiet snores from that quarter. It doesn't matter. His ritual will be done soon – another hour, at most. While he winds his way through one of the final chants, a newcomer slips into the room – a calico cat with black, white, and orange fur marking her face and hands. She waves jauntily to him, and with a start, the unicorn recognizes her.

Rory manages a weary smile during one of his dances, but doesn't say anything. So close to the finish, all he wants to do is finish this spell. Only an hour, perhaps. That can't be so bad, he assures himself, hopefully. I've done long spells before. And they've worked.

"Hi Rory!" The Khatta mage mews as she pads down the row between the chairs towards him, her voice warm. "Thought I'd pop by, see how you were doing. Everything going well, I'm sure. Nightfall, huh?" She peers at the various components of his circle. "Feels good. Solid. Gosh, awfully solid. You've only been going, what – " the cat rolls her eyes in thought, " – Eleven hours or so? Well, no matter."

"I really came because I've heard all kinds of interesting things from different people about your 'familiar'. You call her 'Silhouette', right? Is she around now?" The feline Dean peers about, looking for the shadow-outline of a second unicorn, but she doesn't find it. Silhouette, worried that her presence might somehow be taken as "assistance" for Rory, has deliberately absented herself while the tests are going on.

The unicorn smiles, tired, as the time estimate sounds about right. Tappity-tap. Clippity-clop. He makes another round about the circle. As much as he'd love to talk about Silhouette … that'll have to wait for another hour.

"Well, no matter," Fyiara says, giving up on spotting the shadow-girl. "I'm sure I can track her down easily enough. I think it's quite fascinating. Some people think she might be a free-willed spirit, you see, and not just an unusually persistent shadow elemental. Do you think you could explain to me how you summoned her?" She waits expectantly, ears perked, robed arms folded in front of her.

The unicorn, quite unable to answer aloud, gives a head nod. Even though he may not be able to give quite a proper explanation as one might want … it's the best he can manage with a nod or a shake, and … just an hour more! … he can elaborate. Provided he's still conscious, that is.

"Oh! I guess now's not really a good time. Well, still, you can hear me out and get back to me later on it," she mews after a few minutes. "See, some people have told me you say she's not summoned at all, which would definitely make her a free-willed spirit. The College's current position on spirits that exhibit free will is, well, a teensy-bit ambiguous at this point. Not that I want to worry you or anything!" Fyiara assures him. Something about her tone of voice isn't precisely reassuring.

She continues, "But I think we'd better pick her up and investigate her immediately. You know. Just to be on the safe side. Can't be too careful around these spirits. Since you're busy and all now, I'll just grab Gramps – I mean, the Dean of Spirit – and some scryers from the Watch and we'll go round her up. Ta-ta!" Fyiara waves brightly to the casting unicorn, and bows out.

Rory opts for assuming that this is another bluff. He really, really, really hopes it's another bluff. A bluff. That's it. Trying to get me to mess up. That's what the whole test is about, after all. Heather probably just looks so sour to put me on guard, he assures himself. She almost smiled! I know it!

A moment after Fyiara vanishes from the door at the back, she pops her head back in. "Umm … you won't mind if we have to resort to anything … drastic, right? Well, I'm sure we won't. And if we did, it would only be for your own good, really. Don't you worry about a thing! Bye!"

Rory's eyes get watery. Test or not, this is getting mean, he thinks.

As Rory's spell nears its climax – a fact not readily apparent to the average mage – a few more spectators have drifted in and taken seats to watch. The snoozing shadow mage has curled onto his side, his legs against one of the adjacent chairs.

As Rory's outlook starts to get moodier and darker, so do his surroundings toward the end of that remaining hour. At some point – and he's not exactly quite sure when – he finds that despite the best efforts of the candles placed in the room, it has become significantly darker … not pitch black, but still a very palpable gloom, making the shadows very deep and dark, and the highlights not much better. At long last, when he's certain that the effect is going to remain without further coaxing on his part … he comes to a neat stop … and just looks around at the effect.

The purple-robed mage jerks upright as Rory stops casting, and looks directly at him. "What – what is it? Did you give up?"

There's a murmur of surprise among the other observers, noting the darkness of the room. One rat dashes to his feet and runs out of the room, and another person follows shortly thereafter.

Rory just stands there, breathing heavily. He hasn't any jigs or shouts to make right now. He looks to the mage that questioned him, and says in a cracking voice, "No, sir. I'm finished. Do I pass?"

"You – but – it's hours too early!" The mage stumbles to his feet, rubbing at the corner of one eye.

Rory frowns. "I could take longer, if that's important," he says, meekly. "I just shortened it up so I didn't wear myself out. I don't have any helpers, you know, and this is a full-fledged ritual at sky island level. It's been twelve hours already."

The Skreek that ran out dashes back into the room, a look of surprise on his face. "I checked the windows, the other rooms – it's – " He pauses for breath, and leans against the door frame, saying, with a little shrug, "Nightfall."

Rory nods, at the repetition of the ritual's name. "If it's all right," Rory says, "I have really got to go now!" And without further encouragement, he makes his way out of the ritual hall. Twelve hours is a long time, after all.