Aptitude Evaluation
“Jacqueline Carol, Teacher?”
“That’s Nami, right? Call me Jackie. What brings you here?”
“Jackie Teacher, I don’t have an EMR—Etheric Mark Recognition—pen. Could I borrow one?”
“Lucky for you, I’ve got one right here. Just return it after the exam.”
I hadn’t expected a test on the very first day of school. By sheer luck, I managed to borrow an EMR pen from Jackie Teacher, who was in charge of Class A for second grade.
Out of idle curiosity, I asked why it was E instead of M. She explained that in English-speaking countries, they called mana “ether,” hence etheric. I wished they’d standardize the terminology—and the units, for that matter. They always decided these things on their own whims.
“Nami, fighting...!”
Seri whispered from far off. Her voice didn’t carry, but I could read her lips clear enough. I flashed her a grin in reply, my way of thanking her for the encouragement.
Even for an important test like this, they didn’t bother separating us from our desk mates. The test papers had a special coating etched into them—unless you were looking straight on, you couldn’t make out the shapes. Same went for anything written with the EMR pen.
Seri, who’d been chattering nonstop during break, now had her eyes squeezed shut in silent prayer. The aptitude evaluation weighed heavily on all the kids’ minds. Si-hu next to me, Hye-ji in front, even Yuna in back—no one made a peep. The classroom filled only with the soft rustle of breathing.
Twenty-five questions in thirty minutes? Not exactly generous, especially for kids sensitive to prying eyes and rankings.
“Exam time is from 1:10 to 1:40 p.m. Don’t flip the test paper until the announcement says so. At 1:40, there’ll be another broadcast to end it—keep your hands on your heads then, too. Got it?”
Jackie Teacher ran through the precautions.
“EMR cards can’t be edited, so if you mark wrong, raise your hand quietly and I’ll come fix it for you.”
Five minutes to go.
“It’s just an aptitude evaluation, so try not to stress too much. There might be stuff we haven’t covered in class, or a lot you don’t know—and that’s not because you’re bad at it. Have confidence, okay?”
A few kids nodded solemnly. Sure, it was the homeroom teacher’s job to say reassuring things, but from the kids’ perspective, this test was impossible to ignore. The academy system was downright ruthless. They ranked the whole school on untaught material, then shuffled underperformers to different classes. Even Kaizen Academy back home played it softer than this.
The kids, already tempered by a year of this pressure, stared at the second hand with steely resolve. Would the sniveling first-graders I’d seen today end up like this next year?
[Hup hup. Ahem. We will now begin the 2051 Seferon Academy Primary Aptitude Evaluation.]
Chrrrk. Skipping the cover page, the test ran three pages from two to four.
An old memory surfaced—high school science entrance exam papers looked just like this. The college entrance exam had been scrapped decades ago here, replaced by the KGSAT graduation standard test, but anyway.
I picked up my pen and scanned from question one.
1. Identify the pattern and fill in the blank with the correct rune.
Dead simple multiplication. Match it to the rune and enter the answer. Seventeen times seven is 119, so number four: ‘Zignitresecenka’.
What was I even expecting from second-grade level? On to the rest.
6.
Answer: one, 20-35.
15. The following transmutation circle has runes from ‘Null’ to ‘Exailon’ in the wrong order. What’s the minimum number of revisions needed to cast an arbitrary spell?
Four times, so five.
Subjective 1. Fill in the blanks with the correct angles.
45 degrees, 15 degrees, 225 degrees.
‘Haa... haa...’
I’d reached the last question. Clock read 1:23. Way more time left than expected—I could’ve taken it slow. But there was a reason I was rushing.
‘Bathroom...’
I’d chugged too many potions at lunch. Come to think of it, I’d only gone once this morning. My weight was probably pushing 19kg now, not 18. If the body’s 70% liquid, mine was up 1.88%. Why was my metabolism so damn fast...? Cursing my kid body, I eyed the final problem.
Subjective 5. Record all transmutation circles of 2nd Circle or lower that satisfy the following conditions.
Thank goodness. Really. Last one was a magic circle drawing. Three conditions, but only two circles fit.
Quickest way? Symmetry recording, my go-to. Group symmetric sections, set axes, mix symmetry and rotation matrices—bam, beautiful eight-way circle. Tweak for conditions two and three, done in record time.
Complete!
“Teacher!”
“Raise your hand quietly, I’ll be right there.”
“It’s not that... bathroom...!”
Right hand up firm, left clutching my skirt for dear life. Kids, laser-focused on their papers, now snuck glances my way. How did the signal hit exactly ten minutes in? Mortifying.
Jackie knelt beside me, whispering.
“Bathroom? Anti-cheating rules mean another teacher escorts you. Can you hold it?”
“I’ll just submit and go, right?”
“Uh? Y-yeah... go ahead...”
“Excuse me...”
Damn potions. Time to research solid alternatives at home. Clunk clunk—why won’t this door open!
“Nami, you okay...?”
“Why?”
“You left without finishing the test...”
“Nami didn’t finish? What’re you talking about, Seri?”
No sixth period on opening day, so we headed home right after. Classmates pitied me with those looks, so I bolted with Seri. Ji-hye, face like death from the “brutal” test, gaped at the news.
“You just... went to the bathroom? You could’ve come back after.”
Tell me about it. Not like me to tense up, but that urgency was real.
“I finished and submitted everything, though.”
“Phew, relief! Like Ji-hye said, test was hard—one lucky guess per row, recover next time.”
“Huh? Nah, I did them all.”
Elementary test, come on.
“In fifteen minutes? Time was tight!”
“For real?”
“Then question fifteen? Revision count?”
“Five, four revisions.”
“Objective twenty?”
“Two.”
“Seri, right?”
“Couldn’t finish, no clue. Okay, subjective five? Drew the circle?”
“Simple wave synthesis. Easier to show.”
Recording on paper was fiddly; midair 3D was my jam.
“Condition one: 2m amplitude, 1:10 scale here’s 20cm.”
I set three symmetry axes, outlined the edge.
“Condition two: 135-degree overlap. 180 minus 45 rotation matrix, or elementary decompose 1:1 horizontal-vertical.”
But subjective five was tricky thanks to condition three.
“Condition three: rare mana loss in synthesis. Assume loss rate per source from start, revise accordingly.”
Stopped at mana injection for visibility. Waves hummed.
No activation, gone in ten seconds.
“Whoa, fucking insane...”
Seri gasped in awe.
Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.
Ji-hye clapped blankly, deadpan.
Now that I thought, pretty advanced for elementary—doable, but not this optimized. Tech-heavy tricks made simple explanations tough.
“Uh, question one...?”
“Four, Zignitresecenka.”
“Phew, lucky... Forgot from first semester...”
“Yeah.”
“Sniff... thirty points, right...?”
Tears welled in Ji-hye’s eyes. Objectives twenty or subjective five? Nah, question one crushed her.
“You’ll be fine.”
Seri tried comforting, but looked uneasy herself.
“Nami, was the test... easy for you? Be honest...”