The Testing by Jonathan Moeller Page A

hundred feet from the polished marble floor, and sunlight poured through the high windows. Magisters and Adepts lined the walls, watching in silence, and the First Magister himself waited on the dais at the far end of the hall. The Swords led them to the dais, and Thalia stepped forward. 
    “First Magister,” said Thalia in High Imperial, her voice ringing off the walls. “I am Thalia, of House Kalarien, an Adept of the Conclave. And it is with great joy that I announce that Rachaelis, of House Morulan, whom I sponsored, has survived the Testing.”
    Nazim stepped forward, his cane rasping against the floor. “I am Nazim, Magister of the Conclave. And it is with great joy that I announce that Rachaelis, of House Morulan, for whom I have spoken, has survived the Testing.”
    Talvin lifted his staff and smote it against the floor three times. “Then by the authority of the Conclave of Adepts, and by my office as First Magister, I will administer the Oath of the Conclave to the Initiate. Will you take the Oath, Initiate?”
    Rachaelis lifted her chin. “I will.” 
    “Do you swear to abide by the laws of the Conclave, as set down from the days of the first Adepts?”
    “I, Rachaelis Morulan, so swear.”
    “Do you swear to guard and preserve the tradition of the High Art, that future generations may learn of it?”
    “I, Rachaelis Morulan, so swear.” 
    “Do you swear to forsake forever the forbidden arts, the paths of necromancy, pyromancy, oneiromancy, and blood spells, and to oppose whosoever might wield these arts?”
    “I, Rachaelis Morulan, so swear.”
    “And do you swear to the first responsibility of any Adept, to guard the world from the demons of the astral realm, and to oppose them wherever they might appear?”
    “I, Rachaelis Morulan, so swear.” 
    “Then you are welcomed into the Conclave as a new sister, Rachaelis Morulan,” said Talvin, “with all the rights and duties of a full Adept. Take up your robes and sigils of office.” 
    “Your robe,” murmured Thalia. “Take it off.”
    “What?” hissed Rachaelis. “In front of…everyone?”
    Thalia grinned. “Tradition.”
    Rachaelis sighed, pulled off her gray Initiate’s robe, and handed it to Thalia. At least she got to keep her shift on, this time. Thalia set the robe aside and helped Rachaelis into the robes of an Adept; blood-colored, with a tight black collar and black trim on the sleeves and hem. Thalia also presented her with a sword belt and a cortana in its scabbard.
    “What’s this?” whispered Rachaelis.
    “Your father’s cortana,” whispered Thalia back. “Technically, you are the Lady of House Morulan now, so you are entitled to wear it. Besides, it goes well with the robe.” 
    Rachaelis nodded, a lump in her throat. Her father’s sword. Not that she knew the first thing about using a sword; if she drew it she’d probably slice off her hand. But it had been her father’s. She let Thalia buckle the belt around her waist without protest. 
    “And this is well,” said Nazim, passing something to her.
    Rachaelis took it. It was a sheathed dagger, a sicarr, the blade carried by all Adepts. And it was enchanted. She could feel the thrum of magical power when she touched it. But she had seen this blade before…
    “I made this,” said Rachaelis, turning it over in her hand. She had labored over it for hours, carefully working the spells that would make the weapon strong and sharper and lighter than normal steel.
    “You did,” said Thalia, still grinning. “I remember you complaining about it.”
    “It is a traditional gift,” said Nazim. “The successful enchantment of a sicarr is one of the last tasks an Initiate must complete, before he is ready to undergo the Testing. Should the Initiate survive the Testing, he receives the sicarr back, as a sign of his role as an Adept.”
    “Thank you,” said Rachaelis, and hooked the sicarr to her belt.
    “Adepts of the Conclave,” said Talvin. “I present your