Morning sunlight gleamed off the Academy's spires as entrance examination day finally arrived. Through the iron gates—now thrown wide for the ceremony—hundreds of candidates streamed forward in an endless flood. Vel found himself swept along by the current of hopefuls, their excited chatter creating a constant hum around him.
As he walked the smooth stone pathway, his eyes caught the tri-post lamps lining both sides—crystal tops dark now but clearly designed for evening illumination. Between them, carefully tended gardens softened the Academy's imposing architecture with beds of greenery and well-planted trees.
"So many people," Celia exclaimed beside him, adjusting her black training jacket. She'd chosen practical examination clothes—black pants, sturdy boots, her rapier secured at her hip.
Vel nodded, noting the contrast between their modest gear and the obvious wealth around them. Students carried weapons that gleamed with expensive craftsmanship—ornate hilts, intricate metalwork, decorated scabbards that spoke of noble houses. Others bore no weapons at all, instead clutching scrolls, thick books, and backpacks that likely held crafting tools. Their scholarly appearance marked them as applicants for non-combat disciplines like alchemy or astronomy.
Movement above caught Vel's attention. Banners hung suspended from floating crystals, drifting gently despite the still air. Some displayed Academy crests while others bore directional guides and sponsor marks.
Vel stopped and tilted his head upward, studying the magical display. The crystals weren't just floating by levitation—they weren't even swaying. Each one held its position like it was anchored to a fixed point in space.
Celia pulled his sleeve. "Vel, you're staring. What is it?"
"Those crystals," he murmured, still looking up. "They're not levitating. They're anchored to fixed dimensional coordinates. But I haven't seen any magic circle components that could replicate that effect."
"Only you can think of such things at a moment like this," Celia said, tugging him forward as the crowd continued moving.
The main path split ahead into three directions. Left led to training complexes and combat facilities. Right stretched toward towers and observatories for theoretical studies. The central route headed to the main administrative buildings where crowds were gathering.
They followed the flow toward registration tables where Academy staff checked names and distributed numbered tokens.
"Velarian Novalance. Lady Halen's scholarship," Vel said when his turn came.
The severe-looking woman consulted her list and handed him bronze token number 137. "Main courtyard."
As Celia stepped forward for her registration, Vel scanned the crowd gathering around the central fountain. His gaze stopped on a familiar profile—tall, fair-haired, with the refined posture of nobility.
His breath caught.
"Kein?" he whispered.
"Token one-thirty-eight," the registration woman told Celia. "Main courtyard."
"Celia," Vel grabbed her sleeve as she turned from the table. "Look—by the fountain. That's Kein."
Her eyes widened, following his gaze. "I almost didn't think we'd meet again here."
She started toward him immediately, Vel close behind. Four years since they'd stood together in Elnor. Four years since Kein had been taken by his noble father.
"Kein!" Celia called above the crowd's murmur. "I can't believe you're here too!"
The fair-haired young man stiffened. A well-dressed peer beside him glanced over curiously.
"You know them, Lord Atherwind?" the peer asked.
"No," Kein replied without hesitation, his voice carrying clearly across the space. "I don't."
He turned and walked away with his companion, who muttered something about "commoners should know their place when addressing nobility. Being students doesn't mean we're equal."
Celia stepped forward, but Vel caught her arm.
"Let me go," she said, anger flashing in her eyes. "How dare he—"
"Wait," Vel said quietly, his mind racing. "Think about it. Maybe he has reasons we don't understand. Four years with his noble father... maybe acknowledging us would put him in a difficult position."
"What—" Celia began, hurt and confusion mixing in her voice.
"Not now," Vel placed a restraining hand on her arm as officials called for attention. "We'll find him after the ceremony."
They reluctantly joined the other applicants facing the platform where wide stone steps led to an elevated area. At the top, a tall woman in elaborate blue robes embroidered with silver appeared against the backdrop of a giant entrance to the main building. Her elevated position commanded the entire courtyard, and her presence seemed to draw the very air into stillness.
"Attention candidates!" she called, her voice cutting through all conversation. "I am Archmagister Elyssia Caelum. Today, you stand at the threshold of possibility. Here, you will not be given your place—you will earn it."
"The Academy opens its doors once every three years," Archmagister Elyssia continued, her voice cutting through the morning air. "This is your opportunity to secure a future that would otherwise remain forever beyond your reach. We do not accept new students during our cycles—every resource, every instructor, every moment of attention is devoted to those we choose today."
Her gaze swept across the crowd, and Vel felt the weight of hundreds of dreams hanging in the balance.
"Those who fail today may return for one final attempt in the next cycle—if life has not already claimed them, if they still possess the will to try again. But know this: there will be no third chance. The Academy grants only two opportunities in any lifetime."
Vel felt the gravity of her words settle over the crowd like a physical weight. Beside him, Celia straightened, her jaw setting with fierce determination.
"The examinations will test not only your magical aptitude, but your resolve, your creativity, and your ability to work under pressure. Some of you will discover strengths you never knew you possessed. Others will find that dreams alone are not enough."
While the Archmagister spoke, Vel's gaze drifted toward Kein's distant figure. The boy who had once shared their dreams now stood among a cluster of noble candidates, his posture perfect, his attention fixed forward like a proper lordling.
The transformation struck Vel harder than he'd expected. This wasn't just about expensive clothes or refined manners. Four years in his father's house had changed something fundamental. The warm, impulsive boy who'd challenged Vel to endless sparring matches was gone, replaced by someone who could look right through old friends without a flicker of recognition.
Had their promise meant so little? Vel remembered their last day in Elnor—the determination in Kein's eyes as he'd sworn they would meet again at the Academy.
"Your first examination begins in one hour," the Archmagister announced, drawing Vel's attention back. "Proceed to your assigned areas according to your token numbers. And remember—the Academy does not coddle. We forge strength through adversity."
The crowd began to stir as her speech concluded, conversations resuming in hushed tones.
Archmagister Elyssia stood before them, her silver-embroidered robes catching the morning light. When she continued, her voice carried a resonance that seemed to reach each candidate individually.
"You will be measured in Strength, Knowledge, and Strategy. Where you belong will not be decided by me, nor by your family name, nor by the wealth of your house. It will be decided by your own ability."
Around Vel, the crowd shifted. Some students stood taller with determination, others exchanged nervous glances. He noticed several noble-born candidates maintaining practiced confidence that didn't quite reach their eyes.
"Know this: Those who excel will receive the training they deserve. Those who struggle will receive the training they need. But those who fail to meet expectations—those who cannot keep up—will be removed."
The final word hung in the air like a death knell. Several students visibly paled.
"This is not cruelty. This is not unfair. This is the nature of power."
Even the wealthy seemed to understand that privilege alone wouldn't guarantee survival here. Vel's gaze drifted toward Kein's distant figure among the noble cluster. His former friend's expression remained impassive, almost bored, as if these warnings meant nothing to him.
The Archmagister paced to the platform's center, raising her arms toward the Academy's three distinct sections.
"Every empire stands upon three great pillars, and it is through these that civilization thrives. Strength. Knowledge. Strategy."
She turned left, gesturing toward the martial complex.
"Strength—The Shield and Sword of the Realm. The warriors of this land are its foundation. Without those who take up arms in service to crown and country, all else crumbles." Her voice swelled with conviction. "The knights, duelists, and vanguard of our great kingdom stand unyielding against those who would threaten our prosperity. To wield a blade is not merely to fight—it is to uphold duty, honor, and the order that sustains our way of life."
The students with noble bearing straightened at these words, pride evident in their postures.
She turned toward the cathedral structure.
"Knowledge—The Flame That Lights the Path Forward. Yet strength alone is blind without wisdom. It is the scholar, the mage, and the innovator who ensure that our people do not merely survive, but ascend to even greater heights." Her hands traced complex patterns in the air, leaving faint trails of magical light. "Through the mastery of the arcane, through invention, through the relentless pursuit of understanding, we push beyond the limitations of today and carve a path into the future."
Vel noted how she balanced Church faith-based magic with Guild innovation without explicitly favoring either faction.
Finally, she faced the students directly.
"Strategy—The Hand That Guides, the Mind That Rules. But what are strength and knowledge without guidance? Without leadership, a warrior is but a blade with no hand to wield it, and knowledge is but a tool with no mind to command it." She clasped her hands before her. "The future of our realm belongs to those who can see beyond the battlefield, beyond the throne, beyond the present. For it is the tactician, the commander, the ruler, and the diplomat who will ensure that these forces work together, rather than against each other."
The noble students stood even taller, as if their birthright had been confirmed.
"Today, you will be tested in all three pillars. But before we begin those trials, we must understand the foundation upon which your abilities rest."
She gestured, and several robed figures stepped forward carrying four crystalline devices. They placed them carefully on pedestals positioned across the courtyard. Each artifact was shaped like a hexagonal cylinder, their surfaces gleaming with inner complexity.
Vel studied the nearest crystal with growing curiosity. The hexagonal cylinder's internal structure seemed impossibly intricate—geometric patterns within patterns, each layer appearing to serve a different function. How did it analyze magical resonance? What mechanisms detected elemental affinity?
"The Elemental Affinity Appraisal. These ancient artifacts will reveal your magical nature—the elements to which your spirit attunes, the foundations upon which your power will build."
A murmur ran through the crowd. Elemental affinity determined one's potential, the ceiling of magical growth. Around him, students looked eager to discover their magical nature.
"You will approach in groups of twenty, according to your assigned numbers. Four groups will be tested simultaneously. Each candidate will place their hand upon an artifact, which will reveal your elemental attunement."
An official stepped forward with a scroll. "Groups One through Four, approach your assigned stations."
Eighty students moved toward the four hexagonal cylinders. Vel watched intently as lines formed at each station.
At Station One, a young man with perfectly styled auburn hair and noble bearing stepped forward confidently. The hexagonal crystal blazed deep red, projecting fierce light around him.
"Fire affinity. Strong and clear."
"That's Severin Thornwood," someone whispered nearby. "House Thornwood. They say he's already caught the attention of several Kingdom instructors."
The testing proceeded steadily across all stations.
At Station Two, an examiner called out "Water affinity. Clear resonance."
At Station Four, "Earth affinity. Strong resonance."
Station Three announced "Air affinity. Good control potential."
Then, at Station Three, a composed girl with silver hair touched the crystal. It erupted in swirling ribbons of blue and white light, perfectly balanced and harmonious.
"Dual affinity—Water and Light. Exceptional balance."
Faculty members stepped closer, making interested notes. "Always good to see a balanced dual affinity," one commented approvingly.
The testing continued through Groups Two, Three, and Four. Most results followed expected patterns—single element displays recorded with routine efficiency. A few more dual affinities appeared, drawing approving nods from examiners.
Several students showed no reaction at all, directed to a side area for different evaluation.
"Groups Five through Eight, approach your stations."
As the next wave took their positions, Vel spotted Kein moving toward Station Four with Group Eight. Had his former friend taken his noble father's name? Was that part of the transformation from their childhood friend to this cold stranger?
At Station Three, a nervous-looking boy from Group Six approached his hexagonal cylinder. When he touched the surface, the device emitted something Vel had never seen before—a cloudy, swirling orange-brown mist that seemed unable to settle on any single color.
"Unstable attunement. Clouded resonance between Fire and Earth."
The boy's face shifted from shock to confusion to acceptance, shoulders slumping in defeat. Vel overheard whispers from nearby examiners.
"Their spells rarely achieve full manifestation."
"We'll need to adjust expectations accordingly."
The faculty members made notes with clinical detachment, directing the dejected student to a separate area. Murmurs rippled through the watching crowd as students leaned toward each other.
"What does that mean exactly?" a girl whispered behind Vel.
"Clouded students can't cast properly," another replied quietly. "Their spells start to form but then collapse. The magic fights itself."
"I heard their growth is incredibly slow too. Takes them years to master what clear affinities learn in months."
"My cousin had a friend with unstable attunement. His fire spells would flicker out mid-cast, and when they did work, they'd burn in weird patterns."
The whispers painted a grim picture. Clouded students weren't just weak—they were fundamentally broken casters whose magic betrayed them at crucial moments.
"Ready to show them your lightning affinity?" Vel asked Celia quietly.
She nodded, adjusting her grip on her token. "Let's hope so."
Vel remembered her training sessions—the way electricity crackled along her blade, the precision of her lightning-enhanced strikes. Her affinity was strong and clear.
"After seeing your sword arts, I doubt the artifact will have any trouble reading you," he said reassuringly.
"Group Seven, approach Station Two."
Vel's thoughts turned to his own situation. Unlike most students who worried about having no affinity at all, he had different concerns entirely.
Together with eighteen other candidates, they approached the hexagonal cylinder at Station Two. The line moved steadily as each student placed their hand on the artifact's crystalline surface.
A girl with chestnut hair went first, causing the crystal to erupt in brilliant jade green.
"Earth affinity. Strong resonance."
Next came a boy with spectacles who received a soft white glow.
"Light affinity. Clear resonance."
A tall, dark-haired youth whose touch caused the artifact to shine with intertwined ribbons of red and yellow.
"Dual affinity—Fire and Lightning. Balanced elements."
Too soon, it was Vel's turn.
Heart pounding, Vel stepped forward and placed his palm against the cool hexagonal surface of the artifact. The crystal felt strangely cold beneath his touch, its faceted edges smooth against his skin. For a split second, nothing happened—the artifact remained dormant, its interior dark and still.
Then chaos erupted.
The artifact flashed wildly—red, blue, green, yellow, white, black—each color appearing for just an instant before being replaced by another. The hexagonal cylinder hummed, its pitch rising unnaturally as the colors began cycling faster.
Examiners backed away, exchanging alarmed glances. The colors swirled together, not blending into a murky mist like the unstable dual-affinities, but flashing in a frantic, unpredictable pattern.
The chief examiner stepped forward, frowning. "What is happening?"
Another approached cautiously. "I've never seen such a reaction. It's as if..."
The crystal suddenly blazed white, so bright that Vel instinctively withdrew his hand. The light lingered for a moment before settling into a dense, swirling white mist—unlike the clouded attunements. Where others reading had shown murky, grayish swirls, this was pure white, brighter and more intense, almost luminous in its clarity.
"What does it mean?" someone whispered.
The chief examiner studied the readout, his expression puzzled. "Unstable attunement. Likely the most severe case of divided potential we've seen."
Vel stood frozen as the examiners discussed his reading. Their clinical assessment of his "divided potential" felt wrong—he knew his true abilities were far beyond what the crystal had shown.
From across the courtyard, where Thornwood had finished his testing and was observing with other elite students, "Well, well," a smooth voice called out. "That was quite the performance."
The auburn-haired young man strolled over with practiced confidence, leaving his group of admirers behind. His amused smirk drew attention as he approached, his uniform's subtle embellishments marking his noble status.
"All that effort to reach the Academy, only to discover you're magically... incompatible," he said, examining his manicured nails with theatrical disappointment. "I feel sorry for whoever paid for you to be here."
Vel clenched his jaw but said nothing.
Thornwood smirked at Vel's silence, clearly satisfied with his humiliation. With a dismissive shrug, he turned and strolled back toward his group of elite admirers, leaving Vel standing there.
Before the tension could build further, the examiner called the next student. "Celia Freznoria."
Vel stepped back as Celia moved forward confidently, placing her palm on the hexagonal cylinder. It immediately glowed a brilliant blue-white, crackling with tiny arcs of electricity.
"Air affinity with lightning specialization. Strong resonance and control potential."
A smile flickered across Celia's face at the strong reading, but it faded as she stepped away from the crystal and rejoined Vel. The contrast between their results couldn't have been more obvious.
"That's... I don't understand," she whispered, moving closer to him. "Your reading—it can't be right. I've seen what you can do."
An examiner stepped forward, gesturing toward different areas of the courtyard. "Students with clear affinities, please proceed to the eastern section. Those with unstable readings, gather near the fountain."
The casual efficiency of the separation hit like a blade. Celia hesitated, her feet rooted in place as she watched other students begin to move toward their assigned groups.
Meanwhile, at Station Four across the courtyard, the examiner's voice rang out with unusual excitement. "Kein Atherwind."
The entire courtyard seemed to go quiet as Kein approached the hexagonal cylinder with practiced confidence. He placed his palm against the crystalline surface without hesitation.
The artifact responded with a blinding golden light that filled the entire space, so brilliant that many students shielded their eyes. Threads of white wove through the gold, creating a display of breathtaking beauty.
"Light affinity with holy specialization. Exceptional purity and strength. One of the strongest readings we've recorded in years."
Faculty members whispered excitedly among themselves. The contrast couldn't have been more pronounced—Kein bathed in golden light, celebrated as a prodigy, while Vel stood marked for the group considered barely worthy of training.
Celia's feet shuffled against the stone pavement, her gaze darting between Vel and the eastern section where her group awaited. Her fingers twisted the edge of her sleeve.
"Go with them," Vel said, giving her shoulder a gentle nudge toward the eastern section. "I'll be fine. You should focus on yourself today."
She bit her lower lip. "But they clearly got it wrong. I've seen what you can do—"
"Celia." Vel offered her a knowing smile. "You know me. This is just another problem I need to tackle."
She hesitated for another moment, then nodded reluctantly. "Find me after the sorting is finished. Promise?"
"Promise."
As Celia followed her assigned group toward the eastern section, Vel turned toward the fountain where the unstable attunement group was gathering. As he approached, he noticed their expressions shift. Several students straightened their postures, exchanging glances that seemed almost... relieved. One boy—the same nervous student from Group Six with the Fire-Earth clouded reading—even offered a tentative smile.
"Your reading was even weirder than mine," the boy whispered. "I'm Tomas. Never seen the crystal go crazy like that."
A rising commotion caught Vel's attention. Excited voices and footsteps converged around Station Four where Kein stood.
"Incredible display!"
"I've never seen light magic that pure!"
"House Atherwind's investment in his training clearly paid off."
Students pressed closer, trying to get a better look at the golden-haired prodigy. Faculty members hurried over, some making notes, others simply staring in amazement.
"Step back, please!" an instructor called out. "Give Lord Atherwind space to breathe. All students, proceed to your assigned groups for further instruction!"
The crowd reluctantly began to disperse, though many continued stealing glances at Kein. The instructors efficiently herded students toward their designated areas, but notably gave the elite group—and Kein in particular—a respectful distance.
Kein's gaze swept across the yard, methodically acknowledging those who congratulated him. Then his eyes met Vel's across the distance.
For a fleeting moment, something passed between them—a subtle smile so brief that Vel almost imagined it. What was that expression? Acknowledgment? Pity? Mockery? Or perhaps satisfaction at their reversed positions?
Before Vel could decide, Kein turned away, his back straight as he walked toward the group of elite affinity students. His new admirers followed close behind, hanging on his every movement.