The Test

At the center of the gleaming metal platform sat a fist-sized Magic Crystal, prominently displayed. As the mechanical prompt sounded, the crystal, which contained a vast trove of information, activated.

With energy flowing into it, the crystal—dark as night yet translucent—began to glow faintly. A screen of light unfolded before Ryan.

Watching the strikingly futuristic scene, Ryan thought of the touch-operated 3D projection technology he'd never gotten to experience in his previous life. He hadn't expected it to appear first in this sword-and-magic world. As the screen followed the movement of his fingertips, he couldn't help marveling that this advanced black technology was almost too black.

He knew it was probably an ingenious application of illusion magic, but the design felt so futuristic and out of place in Faerûn that he couldn't help feeling embarrassed on behalf of Archmage Adam's quirky tastes.

Still, Ryan's nimble mind had come up with all sorts of wild ideas. For instance, he could combine illusion magic with stage plays to create high-end 3D surround effects. If he paired them with the classic masterpieces he remembered from his previous life, the results would surely leave Faerûn's bumpkins' plays miles behind. A roaring success—and a fortune—would be practically guaranteed.

Or he could use the Magic Crystal's ability to store images and information to shoot movies directly. He could bring masterpieces like The Old Man and the Sea and Titanic to Faerûn, become a cultural mogul, and maybe even earn himself the title of "Chosen" with an excellent, moving story.

"Cultural export: making movies in another world. Not a bad idea. But it's way too suicidal. I'll leave the task of spreading Blue Star's fine culture to the next lucky traveler."

Cultural ideas could sometimes spread faster and more terrifyingly than plagues, with even more absurd consequences. Besides, who among the powerhouses in this magical world couldn't use some form of mind-reading or hypnosis? The devils of Hell were masters at playing with souls, too. With fame came the risk of catching some bigwig's eye—and getting hypnotized into a game-over.

In the end, this was still a world where might made right. Just look at the gods on high: even they could wind up trapped in the Abyss, reduced to playthings and toyed with at will.

The wild ideas flashed through Ryan's mind and were quickly discarded. The young Mage knew his small frame couldn't handle that kind of stunt yet. Perhaps the next guy to be transported to Faerûn could make a fortune off the cultural heritage of an entire world. (Whispering: Honestly, I doubt any of you could remember those timeless classics after arriving in another world. I know I couldn't.)

As the screen unfolded, the mechanical mind's prompt rang through the ruins again. "Please open Data Center Experimental Record 23, Group 4: 'Research into Chromatic Dragon Physiology and Functional Traits: Development Record for the Enhanced Dragon Skin Spell.' The inheritor must study the record, learn Polymorph, and successfully cast the spell within two days. Please complete the trial within the allotted time."

Ryan listened to the instructions while opening the experimental records on the screen. The titles that greeted him were startling:

"Analysis of Feralized Animals—Models and Empirical Analysis of the Musculoskeletal System Under the Effects of Frenzy," "A Research Framework for Multi-Species Polymorph Spells in the School of Transmutation, Based on Doppler Shapeshifting Principles," "The Relationship Between Racial Restrictions and Spellcasting Among Spellplagued Casters—An Empirical Analysis Based on Drug Resistance and Racial Attributes"...

Ryan clicked his tongue. The studies looked fascinating, and his curiosity got the better of him. He tried opening one of the titles to read the paper, only to be told, "Insufficient permissions. Access denied."

Left hungry for answers, the curious Mage pursed his lips in frustration. Cursing the clickbait titles under his breath, he dragged the index straight to Record 23 and successfully opened the document.

After skimming it, Ryan saw that the record wasn't too long. Its wording was concise and precise, with every line reflecting a rigorous scientific mindset. Alongside the diagrams and analyses of the magic models, it was a perfect match for the engineering nerd he'd been in his previous life.

Ryan silently estimated the time. Dragon Skin Spell was, after all, a third-circle spell, and it had been modified to some extent. Though he'd learned a little about it while studying spells before, he hadn't delved into it deeply. Mastering it completely and casting it successfully in just two days would be a tight squeeze.

The blond youth's long, pale fingers slid through the air. Once he had a sense of the test's difficulty, he turned to explain things to the "three illiterates," who were staring blankly at the text and diagrams before him.

"It seems the owner of this laboratory wants an intelligent inheritor who's eager to learn. I need to focus on studying this spell now. I'll leave security and keeping watch to you."

Jelona had wanted to help Ryan, but she could read each word on the screen individually and still couldn't make sense of them once they were strung together. She began to question her life choices, then finally returned to the other two and took up guard duty.

The silent testing ground sank back into cold, lifeless stillness. The frigid light fell across the young Mage's brilliant blond hair. From time to time, Jelona stole a glance at his deep blue eyes, which seemed to glitter with stars. The Dwarf and the barbarian warrior watched the door and ceiling, passing the time in boredom.

A chill wind blew from a vent deeper inside, as though some beast from Hell were breathing softly. The Dwarf shivered, muttered a few words, and went back to doing nothing.

Deep within the ruins, a shadowy figure, faintly glowing purple, stood in a vast and profound void. Three screens unfolded one after another before it:

On the first screen, inside a spacious, sealed room enclosed by white steel, a woman with long, flame-red hair sat gloomily atop a metal table. She propped her chin on one delicate hand and glared fiercely at the screen before her.

A few Mages dressed in the style of the Waterdeep Mages Guild were arguing heatedly in front of her. The Red-Haired Witch had shed her usual haughty arrogance and defiant pride. Holding a scroll, she stared distractedly at the screen around which everyone had gathered, lost in thought.

On the screen before Valera, a line of ancient Netherese script floated in midair: "An Investigation into the Principle of Cumulative Regional Energy Amplification—Empirical Record of Increased Energy Levels Under the Combined Effects of Five Fireballs."

In the second scene, Swick and his underlings sprinted across a broad testing ground. A steel scorpion the size of an elephant charged wildly toward a group of panicked Mages.

In the midst of their desperate evasions, the furious nobleman occasionally tore open a scroll and cast spells to slow the menacing steel scorpion. But the magically enhanced construct only bore scorch marks. It kept swinging its eight gleaming, razor-sharp blade-like limbs and pursuing the fleeing Mages.

The shadow glanced over the first two screens and sneered. "Are Mages these days really so weak? They haven't even mastered basic spell applications or magical experimentation. Each generation is worse than the last.

"Dunblinton is as softhearted as ever. If it were the master, he would've turned this bunch of deadbeats into experimental materials for failing even this basic test. He'd never let a construct serve as the second-round test!"

When the purple shadow turned its gaze to the third screen, it fixed on the blond youth at its center, absorbed in analyzing magic. After pulling up the records Ryan had searched and the notes he had made, it nodded slightly. "At least there's one promising candidate. But why does he seem so strange and familiar to me?"

The mysterious shadow kept its gaze fixed on Ryan for a long time, as if it had made an important decision, then marked him for special attention.

In the void, the shadow flickered, then crumbled and dissipated like flowing sand.