Bennegraf rapped on the polished surface of the small door.

“Who goes?” a voice cackled from the other side.

“It is I, Bennegraf – and my apprentice Layol,” the mage said. “We are here for his mastery test.”

“Ahhh, Bennegraf! Come in, come in!” the voice said, and sounded more upbeat.

The small door swung open and Layol followed his master into the small chamber. Ardymon was an intimidating man of large stature. His long flaxen hair was tied back behind his head. The Grand Master peered into the very soul of the boy with his weathered gray eyes. Layol had no idea what kept him conscious at that moment, because he thought for sure that his world had gone dark.

“Young Layol,” Ardymon said, looking down his nose. “An impressive career you have had indeed, thus far!”

“Thank you, Grand Kanja,” Layol said – forgetting to breathe.

“Your opposition for this test is a fierce competitor, boy. I will give you the same explanation of the test that I gave to him,” the muscular man bellowed. “You will each be given a small tree to serve as your only, and I emphasize – only – source of energy for Elemental Symbiotics during this test. Once the tree has died, your use of Symbiotics will cease, and you’ll have to rely on hand-to-hand combat skill and weapons alone. So, manipulate your elements wisely, apprentice. As always, the first person to knock their opponent down three times first wins – and graduates to the next level. As always, should you fail this test, you can come back to retest in one month’s time. Do you understand these regulations as I have explained them to you?”

Layol nodded his head. “I understand, Grand Kanja.”

“Very well,” Ardymon said. “Then you are dismissed. A room has been prepared for you on the top floor. One of the officials will summon you from there when the elders are ready for the test to commence. Good day, and good luck!”

Layol followed his Kanja back out into the long corridor. They walked a few paces before the tall white-haired man came to a sudden halt. Bennegraf rested his chin in his aged fingers, and stroked the thin patch of hair under his lower lip.

“Hmm… I believe that the switch was in this general area last time,” he turned to Layol, “wasn’t it?”

The boy shrugged. Layol wasn’t even sure that he’d heard his Kanja’s question. Pressure had a way of doing that to him. Bennegraf waived his hand in front of his face, and another small thin screen materialized.