The gentle breeze of the grasslands rustling the warden’s ponytail and the hem of her coat, her pale midriff and cleavage highlighted in their stark contrast against her black garments.

“Create a pair of practice daggers,” the warden said to me.

Excited to learn something new, I did as she asked. With a minor effort of will, I conjured two wooden breacher replicas through my phone's catalog app. One after another, two blinks of energy popped into existence in the few feet of space between the warden and I. In the next instant, the light flickered out of existence, leaving behind a pair of wooden daggers in their place.

She snatched the practice weapons out of the air as they started to fall before examining them, flexing her fingers on the leather grips. “The phone truly is incredible… these are perfect… An exact match in shape, size, and weight of a breacher.”

“Yeah…” I said in agreement before my mind turned towards the approaching admissions exam, bringing with it a nervous tight