DISCARDED: The Ones The World Did Not Need

Twenty nine

A bound is an item that restrains part of your magic capacity. It is often use to keep dangerous prisoners in check. They can be made into various wearable items.

Enid's hair danced in a frenzy as the wind blew through it.

She licked her chapped lips, knowing it would make the cracks more painful when they dried but wanting the immediate relief.

She tried to take her mind off her aching feet by glancing at the hundreds of people around her.

Boys, girls, men, women; everyone standing there, hoping they would be able to pass the exams and become an IMD soldier.

Enid did not blame them. It was a lucrative job, with the added advantage of being a heroic figure and leading a somewhat adventurous life.

Although, Enid figured that most new soldiers are quickly disillusioned as most of an IMD soldiers life is filled with an absurdly, mind numbing amount of paper work...or at least that was what Micah told her.

Even after all these years, she still was not comfortable in crowds. She had lived most of her life with one or two people; besides, the mix of essences disoriented her.

Enid massaged the eye patch she wore over her left eye which was 'injured due to overuse'. That was what Gramps told Racheal when she visited one time and saw her in bed with a bandage over her eye.

She snickered silently as she remembered the by no means large woman trying to strangle Gramps with surprising success.

Gramps swore to take it easy with the training, finally prying Racheal off him.

Enid stretched and yawned loudly, wondering how long their examiners would keep them waiting.

The awe of seeing the grand, white marble building known as the IMD building had worn off hours ago and now she found her gaze lingering on the smaller but no less magnificent building beside it.

That was where Racheal worked. She hadn't seen her in eight months. Something about having to prepare 'the royal pain in the butt'.

Her string of thoughts were interrupted by the loud clunking of doors opening. She clenched her fists, the adrenaline surging through her veins. It was finally time; she had been training for this moment for five years.

Gramps had insisted that she was far too advanced for the IMD exams, but that was just him bragging about how good he was.

The person who came through the doors was a tall, strict looking man with a strong smile; besids him was a fair skinned girl with long, black hair, barely held back by numerous hair ties; her glassy green eyes shone with ravenous anticipation and a slight cockiness.

Enid held her breath. She knew who that waseven ithout being told. she was taller; far taller than Enid was.

The man pat her head and whispered to her; she nodded and hurried off into the crow. Enid cocked her head in confusion. She wasn't old enough to take the exams.

The man raised his head and the mumblings seized.

"I'm sure none of you want anymore of your time wasted so I'll just get straight to the point. You all will be led to a hall where your magic apacity will be measured: this is the filtering stage. Anyone who measures below 250 will be disqualified immediately."

It took all of Enid's strength not to tune him out. She had, had the exam format drilled into her head for a year now. The filtering stage: separating the wheat from the chaff. The knowledge testing stage; sieving out the idiots who the think all that is require to be a soldier is strength and finally the mission scenario stage; proof that you can be strong and smart but still suck in real life situations and compatibility with other soldiers.