"Everyone to the starting line! Form a line!" a voice younger and sharper than Selene's rang through the crowd. It was the teacher in charge of our group.
"Hey." Katia nudged my shoulder, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "She doesn't look much older than us."
"She really doesn't." My eyes found the small identification badge on her shoulder. "Instructor Varis Scintillare."
Katia closed her eyes and crossed her arms, her face taking on an expression of solemn discovery. "My father was right. The world is a genuinely scary place."
I let out a short sigh, refusing to engage with that performance.
I refuse to answer that.
"Follow me!" Varis command cut through the murmur. She turned, her scarlet hair instantly becoming a point of reference. It was hard to lose sight of someone with such a striking presence.
We followed Varis, our line snaking along the exterior of the school. My gaze swept over the buildings that made up the campus. Most were low, with a maximum of two floors, built from light-colored stone with gray slate roofs.
They were wide, horizontal structures that seemed to spread across the grounds with a quiet practicality.
One building, however, stood out completely. Instead of spreading out, it concentrated. Instead of the predominant horizontality, it rose in vertical layers, a denser, taller block than its neighbors.
"Form groups of ten," ordered Varis, stopping in the center of the hall. "One line per table. Don't dawdle."
In front of us was a long row of tables. Each table contained an orb and a person responsible for supervising it.
"Above each table, you see a Regulator Orb."
She indicated the small crystal globes. "When it's your turn, you will apply a continuous flow of mana to the orb for at least forty-five seconds. She made a calculated pause. "The orb will signal with a steady white glow when the applied mana density is correct. Your task is to initiate and maintain that glow until the time is up."
"Should I put up a barrier just in case?" Katia murmured beside me. "If you blow that thing up, it's a failure for sure."
"If you fail to contain a little explosion like that, you'll probably fail too," I replied quietly while adjusting my posture.
Some candidates ahead began the test. I watched attentively as the first one placed his hands over the orb. The white light appeared, but flickered like a candle in the wind. Another candidate achieved a steadier glow, but after thirty seconds, the light wavered and went out completely.
"They're failing," I commented in a low voice to Katia.
"It's harder than it looks," she answered, her eyes following each performance with analytical attention. "Some of the candidates have never even seen an orb like this. They aren't expensive, but some people neglect this part."
"But Bela said the only part of the exam that changes is the last one," I argued, lowering my voice even further when a candidate walked past us with slumped shoulders. "Why would anyone neglect one of the basic parts?"
"Because it's a consistent exercise —" She pointed. "People dream of impressing with a large-scale spell or by blowing up a target. In short, I'd say the reason is because it's boring."
A third candidate had managed to keep the light stable for the full forty-five seconds but was sweating profusely, the muscles in his arm visibly trembling from the effort.
“I can't judge them. From a certain point on, I was just doing it out of habit.” The line of candidates was getting shorter quickly
"It's my turn," I declared as I approached the table.
A 'good luck' could be heard before Katia's voice faded away completely.
"Name and identification," the person behind the table asked, keeping his eyes on the notebook.
"Mio Al Phoenicis, Identification 31415," I replied, keeping my voice flat.
As soon as the evaluator took his eyes off the notebook and turned his attention to me, he took a moment longer to give instructions compared to other candidates.
"You may begin…" he stated, but his eyes remained on me for a second longer before returning to the sphere. "Report any discomfort. I will signal when the maximum time has been reached."
I've done this so many times my body must have developed some kind of muscle memory trauma, I thought, placing my hand near the surface of the orb.
Too much force… blinding glare, need to redistribute mana. Too little… flickering light, insufficient quantity… This amount… Steady glow, pure white. Perfect.
As soon as the mana was applied, the orb shone with perfect white light. The perfect start drew the attention of other candidates and the evaluator.
Forty-five seconds passed without incident. The only moment that broke the monotony was the end: I stopped channeling mana the exact instant the evaluator inhaled to announce the finish.
"Time…" he began, but the word died as he saw the orb already darkening and my hand moving away. His eyes met mine for a split second before returning to the notebook, where he made a slightly more deliberate note.
I stepped back from the table. The familiar fatigue in my arms was almost comforting. Katia waited for me with a look that mixed approval and a touch of exasperation.
"Boring," Katia whispered when I approached.
"The orb is all yours." I declared, leaving the line to where the candidates who had already finished were waiting. "If you want excitement, just put in a little too much mana."
Katia smiled slightly and took my place. She completed the exercise with the ease of someone breathing.
"Alright, is everyone finished?" Varis's casual voice echoed through the hall, breaking the concentrated tension. She clapped once, a dry and efficient sound. "Good work. Now, let's take a stroll to the next stop."
We followed the instructor in silence through the school corridors. The sound of boots echoed off the stone walls, and each step seemed to increase the tension in the air. We passed two staircases until we reached a spacious room lit by crystals suspended from the ceiling, whose soft white light reflected off the rows of tables.
"Take your seats," Varis ordered.
Each candidate quickly chose a spot. The air was thick with the anxiety of those still in the running.
"This will be the knowledge test. You will have one hour to complete it." She walked slowly down the central aisle, emphasizing each word with her fingers. "Remember that cheating results in instant disqualification."
I heard some stifled sighs around me. Katia, beside me, adjusted her posture and shot me a quick, confident look.
I think this should be the easiest exam, the memory of nights spent in the library came to mind.
QUESTION 1: Based on the principles established by Alaric the Theorist in the Treatise on Internal Channels:
- a) Clearly and concisely define the concepts of circulating mana and condensed mana in the human body, highlighting the primary function of each in the magical system.
I remember this. In the second month, Bela forced us to answer the same questions every day.
— Circulating mana constitutes the basal and continuous flow of magical energy that courses through the body's natural channels, analogous to the blood circulatory system. Its primary function is magical homeostasis, nourishing tissues, sustaining latent vital functions, and serving as an immediate reservoir for conversion.
- b) Considering a scenario of prolonged conflict, describe a specific adverse effect that excessive, unmanaged mana condensation in a limb can cause the mage. Your answer must include the physio-magical mechanism behind the effect and its potential immediate tactical consequence.
This one she demonstrated for us. Katia shot an arrow directly into Bela's forearm. Result: the arrow turned to dust.
— Condensed mana, on the other hand, refers to the active process of stagnating and compressing part of that flow at a specific point in the body. This technique redirects the homeostatic function for a focused purpose, resulting in a temporary amplification of physical resistance.
The inherent risk of condensation lies in the disruption of the renewal cycle. Mana, once condensed, exerts increasing internal pressure on the physical tissues containing it. If not released in a controlled manner or reconverted into circulating flow, this pressure reaches a critical point. Risk of fractures and micro-tears.
I think that's it. I skimmed the following questions.
The Hundred Years' War, Mana conduction methods, singular magics, economic and social applications of magic. All were familiar questions, but it was the one about singular magics that caught my attention.
Although rare, magics that do not fall into the classical elemental categories have been documented. Cite one historical case and briefly explain its relevance.
For a moment, my mind wandered.
If I'm not mistaken, despite being rare, a few wind magic users have been cataloged. And in all recorded cases, there was always a reaction from the elemental sphere upon contact with mana.
But what about when there's no color at all? I thought. Seeing the future isn't necessarily tangible, so maybe it makes sense for it to have no color.
Varis signaled, marking a point on the board, indicating that half the time had already passed.
Not the time for daydreaming, I have to finish the test.
My hands moved almost on their own, writing answers. It didn't take long before I finished the test.
The final chime of the bell echoed through the room, marking the end of the time. Varis rose from her chair at the front.
"Pens down!" Varis announced, her tone final. "The test is over. Wait here until the grading is done."
A collective sigh swept through the room, followed by the clatter of pens being dropped on the tables. Katia stretched beside me, reaching her arms above her head with an expression of satisfied relief.
"So?" she asked, leaning toward me and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Think you did well?"
"I think I remembered some bad things…" I replied, watching Varis and her assistant collect the tests.
"Ah… The Alaric question…" Katia remarked, as if she knew exactly what I meant.
"That question on the test about singular magics," I said, turning to Katia. "What did you answer?"
Katia furrowed her brow, pulling the memory. "Hmm, I cited Vita Artifi."
"Who's that?" I frowned.
"A woman from a few centuries ago," Katia explained, the academic interest rekindling a bit of my energy. "The records are fragmented, but she had a magic for creating organic matter."
"Creating life…" I repeated, the concept echoing strangely within me. It was a power that seemed to belong more to creation myths than to magical treatises. "Is there any record of what her life was like?"
"Unfortunately, no," Katia shrugged, a gesture of academic resignation. "The main records are three hundred years old, and much of the story is considered speculation. The basis for it comes from some engravings found in a village that was already ancient back then."
"Won't you get in trouble for citing a non-consensus theory? From what you said, this story might just be an interpretation of magic from an isolated society."
Katia simply didn't answer. She just smiled faintly while looking into the distance.
Varis gathered the last papers before handing the complete stack to an assistant waiting near the door.
"Fifteen minutes," she announced, placing her hands on her hips. "Rest, stretch your legs, you can talk, but don't make too much noise."
A murmur began to form in our corner of the room. Whispers, discreet glances, and some not-so-discreet ones, turned toward Katia.
Two candidates, a boy and a girl, approached with a mix of curiosity and nervousness. The boy spoke first, addressing Katia.
"Sorry for intruding, you're Katia Icehart, right? Kael's daughter?" he asked, his eyes slightly wide.
Katia looked at them with a neutral expression. "Yes. Why?"
"I wanted to pay my respects," the boy said, nearly biting his tongue in the process. "The services rendered by your father and the old rearguard were indispensable."
Katia rolled her eyes the instant she heard "pay my respects." More incredible than that was the boy not noticing her reaction.
She's furious. I smiled more to myself than outwardly.
The gaze of the girl who had come with the boy slipped to me, and her curiosity seemed to increase.
"Who's this?" she asked Katia directly before turning to me . "Are you…"
Before the girl could finish, I felt a tightening sensation, one that hadn't happened in reality yet.
"She's my sister," Katia announced, pulling me against her in a near-suffocating grip.
Trapped in Katia's headlock, I could still see the girl over her shoulder. My gaze met hers, and the boy's beside her.
A moment of silence settled. The boy kept his eyes on me with a kind of resignation.
"So you're Lord Kael's daughter?" he asked, even more nervous than before. "I'm surprised by your performance in the control test."
I took a deep breath while trying to push Katia away. "No, I'm just a friend of hers. Katia, stop creating problems for your father."
"But it's true," she protested while resisting with all her might.
Time passed quickly as Katia and I settled into a corner, trying to relax. When the instructor returned, silence fell over the room. All the candidates tensed at their desks. Varis announced:
"Recess is over!" Varis's voice cut through the corridor murmur without ceremony. "Anyone not in line in ten seconds starts the next test with a penalty."
The effect was immediate. Conversations died mid-sentence, snacks were swallowed hastily, and the candidates crowded into a sloppy but quick line. Varis didn't wait for perfection—as soon as the last one slotted in, she turned and set off at a brisk pace.
We followed her down a new corridor, which ended in a large open portal. The light of the late afternoon sun flooded the space, revealing a vast open training field, surrounded by low bleachers and marked with lines and circles painted on the firm ground.
Varis planted her feet on the threshold between the shaded corridor and the open field's sun, turning to face our still-panting group from the forced march.
"Alright, little mages," she began, with a smile that was half sympathy, half warning. "The next part evaluates the application of Mana to the body. It's the physical aptitude test. It's divided into three stages."
She counted on her fingers, each point emphasized by a sharp gesture:
"First: endurance run. You'll do laps around the marked circuit." She pointed to the lanes snaking across the field. "You'll run three laps.
"Second," she said, pointing with her middle finger, "See that field marked with a low gray wall? That's for agility exercises with obstacles. After the circuit, position yourselves near the wall; you start immediately. And those who arrive later can only start after the first twenty have finished."
"And third," ring finger raised to complete the count, "strength and coordination tests. Her bright-red eyes swept over our faces, assessing who was paling. "Don't worry, no one's leaving broken."
"For all of these stages, you must use mana amplification."
"Any questions?" Varis crossed her arms. "No? Excellent. First twenty, to the starting line. The rest, get ready."
Weird… The thought invaded my head as I watched most of the group looking apprehensive. It's stupid to volunteer to run first. There are fifty people for twenty spots. If the obstacle test starts right after, those who run now will be exhausted while the others are still fresh.
I looked at Katia and tilted my head toward the starting line, where the first hesitant volunteers were beginning to gather. "Let's go in the first group."
She raised an eyebrow, a second of confusion crossing her face before understanding lit up her eyes.
"Ah." The sound was low, almost a sigh of revelation. "You think they might be evaluating something beyond physical aptitude?"
"Probably." We were already in the middle of the first group of candidates.
Varis walked to the center of the front, raising a single index finger to the sky.
"One more thing." She assessed our stances, an orange form beginning to take shape at the tip of her finger. "You will only activate mana amplification after my signal. Get ready."
Fire? That must be the signal. I feel bad for doing this; it feels like I'm cheating.
For an instant, nothing happened—and then, a small flame sprouted from the tip of her finger and shot upward like a living flare.
The race began. I gained a small advantage over the other candidates by not needing to react to the signal. Soon the small lead turned into something more solid.
I guess it makes sense. A nostalgic feeling settled in my chest. While Katia remained focused on elemental applications, Bela forced me to run or train with her.
When I crossed the finish line, there was a brief moment where I could observe the other candidates on the course. Katia arrived not long after, in no particular hurry.
"Show-off," she commented, passing me a canteen of water without even looking. "I thought you like to keep a low profile."
"You know I was against that," I replied, countering her teasing. "You can complain to your aunt…
As soon as the rest of the group arrived. Another evaluator nearby began explaining the next test without wasting time. Varis remained at the first test, signaling for the second group to begin.
"You're all here," the evaluator began. "As you can see, these low walls mark the next test. It will be simple; all you need to do is cross this field. Some obstacles will form to impede progress, don't worry, you won't get hurt."
"You may begin whenever you want, and use any methods to cross the field," the evaluator declared, finishing the explanation.
The sound of the whistle blew again.
I looked at Katia. She raised her eyebrows in a clear silent question: "Are you going?"
I tapped my boots on the ground once, as if testing the firmness, and then began to run. I felt the weight of the other candidates' stares glued to my back.
Trunk rising from the ground on the left. Root bifurcations in the ground aiming for the feet. Right after, the trunk will bend, blocking the path.
I jumped over the tangle of roots that hadn't even broken through the soil yet, and when the trunk sprouted and began to lean, I was already on the ground, sliding under it at the exact moment it sealed the path above.
More trunks sprouted from the ground ahead, no longer isolated, but in groups. They didn't just block the path—their branches expanded like living wooden claws, snaking through the air seeking my arms.
Side paths end in immobilization. No path over the top. Attempt straight ahead frustrated due to the number of active branches.
I continued forward, my right hand extending to the side, and the space around it distorted for an instant. When it closed, the familiar dagger was already there, its weight and comfort in my grip.
I twisted my wrist, and the blade drew a silver arc in front of me, severing the branches as they were born into the real world.
I advanced a bit further, cutting a path through branches, until my senses caught something that didn't exist in the real world yet.
The air being rapidly consumed, being intensified by living matter. Followed by the distinct smell of smoke.
Fire?
I looked over my shoulder. A candidate, a boy with brown hair, was advancing through the field. Handfuls of small but intense flames burst from his hands, incinerating the branches and trunks.
The terrain ahead changed. The trunks gave way to low walls of illusory stone that sprouted from the ground, trying to channel and trap.
The boy took advantage of a moment when a wall forced me to reduce my speed. His hand, still warm from the last flame, stretched out to grab the collar of my blouse.
My forearm met his wrist with a precise impact, deflecting the grab to the side with a force that made his fingers close on empty air. The contact lasted less than a second.
He stumbled, surprised more by the timing than the force. He tried to say something, but I had already rounded the corner of the next wall, disappearing from his direct line of sight.
What was he doing? I questioned as I advanced through the field.
The last obstacles were more a formality than a challenge. A jump over a ditch that opened too late, a sharp turn to avoid a final net of branches—movements my body executed almost by inertia, guided by the silent certainty of the vision that always arrived one step ahead.
When my feet touched the flat grass on the other side of the field, the sound of my own sigh was the only thing that broke the silence. I turned. The fire boy was still struggling against the last walls, his brute-force approach proving increasingly inefficient against solid stone.
The other candidates were scattered across the course, some stuck, others progressing slowly.
Some of them aren't using magic. I think I understand why the elemental affinity exam is last.
Katia wasn't among those struggling. She appeared moments later, emerging from a side route with her hair slightly disheveled, but without a drop of sweat on her brow.
"Katia… That person attacked me," I discreetly pointed at him with a tilt of my head.
Katia narrowed her eyes, mixing concern and anger in her expression. "The brown-haired one?"
“What did he do?” She asked, preparing to confront him.
"He tried to grab my shirt,” I stopped her from going to him. “It didn't seem dangerous, but as a precaution, I defended myself."
She analyzed him for a few seconds. "See that crest on his chest?" Katia pointed her finger, not bothering to be discreet.
"He's from House Cecita. They have some antiquated teachings, don't worry about them. Want me to tell the instructors?"
"No, I doubt he'll try that in a public place," I affirmed, remembering the walls obstructing the instructors' view.
Sometime later, the test was finalized. Varis gave us some time to rest, then we gathered in a room, waiting for her to announce the next physical aptitude test.
"Very well, now the third exercise," the instructor announced, pointing to a series of sizable metallic orbs. "Lift these orbs using mana to amplify your strength. The more you can lift, the better."
I placed my hands on the orb, maintained a steady flow of mana, as Bela always instructed, and slowly began to lift the weight. Every centimeter required attention, but the balance between physical strength and mana flowing through my body allowed me to sustain the effort without overloading myself.
Lifting the orb was relatively easy. When I turned to survey the others, I saw two people who had managed to stretch their arms straight up while holding the orb. Without thinking much, I did the same, assuming that was the maximum possible.
Meanwhile, other candidates struggled to maintain control. Some orbs trembled and rolled across the floor, others fell heavily onto the mages' hands.
Katia managed to lift her orb to the height of her shoulder with her arm outstretched.
"Time!" Varis announced, marking the end of the exercise. "Most managed to lift the orbs to chest height, a few went further. You'll have time to catch your breath before the next exercise."
"The next test is a bit more concerning," Katia declared, half suspicious. "Do you think they'll allow it?"
"In the worst case, I'll just join the people who can't control their element."
The next test would be defensive magic; naturally, I had no control over any element, so I couldn't conjure a defensive barrier.
We followed Varis to the field for the next test.
"The next exercise evaluates your defensive aptitudes. You will be subjected to a sequence of simulated magical attacks. The objective is not to be hit. If you conjure barriers, keep them stable; other defensive spells are also permitted."
She paused, letting the information sink in.
"For this, you may choose which element you wish to defend against. The available options are: Fire, Electricity, Ice, Earth, and Water."
The boy from House Cecita was positioned a few meters behind, his attention fixed on me like a point of heat on the back of my neck. I ignored him, turning to Katia.
"Which one are you going to choose?" I asked, keeping my voice low.
"Fire," she answered without hesitation. "I'm more worried about your safety. You're really going to do that, aren't you?"
"I am," I confirmed, with a calm I didn't completely feel. "As Varis said, the rules don't specify I need to block. It's a test of defensive aptitude."
"Even if the rules don't specify, they might not allow it for safety reasons," Katia countered. "Well, you have nothing to lose by trying."
Five evaluators were positioned in the room.
"These are our volunteers," Varis announced. "They will cast spells to test your defenses. Groups of five. Don't worry if you fail; I will conjure a barrier if an attack is about to hit you."
Her offer confirmed my suspicions. Safety was a priority, but it also opened a loophole. While the first group stepped forward and began conjuring shimmering barriers of their respective elements, I edged through the side of the group until I reached Varis.
"Instructor," I began, keeping my voice low but clear. "I have a question about the test parameters.
Her bright-red eyes settled on me, curious. "Speak, Snow Girl."
Snow Girl? The nickname wavered my concentration for an instant.
"—The rules specify we must demonstrate 'defensive capabilities' and 'not be hit.' Do they explicitly require the conjuration of a barrier or defensive spell?"
"It is not explicitly necessary," she finally said, slowly, as if measuring each word. "The method… is secondary. As long as the candidate is not hit and does not interfere with others. It's just a bit counterintuitive to participate in this test without conjuring defensive spells." She paused. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm not going to conjure barriers or defensive spells." I began. "To be more specific, I can't."
"I could just suggest you drop out of this test. But I don't think you came to ask me with that intention. In that case, I suggest you choose to defend against water." Varis concluded, bringing two fingers to her chin.
"I want to defend against the element of electricity," I declared, my voice firmer than I expected.
The silence that followed was charged. The sound of spells in the background seemed to grow distant. Varis remained still, with the exception of her face, which contorted into a tangle of expressions.
"Alright." The agreement came quickly, surprisingly light. "It's not a rule break. For safety, you'll be last.
I returned to the waiting area just as Katia was returning from the testing platform.
"You weren't watching, were you?" she asked, her tone more of a statement than a real question.
"No. I was talking with Varis," I replied, watching the next candidate position themselves on the platform.
Katia stopped beside me, crossing her arms. "And? What was her answer?" Her voice was low but loaded with contained urgency.
"She said it wasn't exactly a rule break," I explained, keeping my eyes on the ongoing test. "Basically, she allowed me to participate my way."
Katia was silent for a moment, only the panting sound of the candidate in front of us filling the space between us.
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"Just be careful." Katia declared with a sigh.
The last candidate before me stepped back from the platform—his brown-colored barrier betrayed his affinity with earth magic. The usual murmur that followed each performance died, replaced by a sudden, charged silence.
"Next candidate! To the platform!" Varis's voice sounded, clear and intentionally neutral.
The transition was instantaneous. Dozens of faces turned. Candidates who were whispering fell silent. The evaluators looked up from their clipboards. The evaluator responsible for my test adjusted his stance, small arcs of bluish energy crackling in his hands.
I stepped into the center of the platform, feeling the smooth texture under my boots. Varis was no longer at the edge of the field, observing from afar. She now positioned herself beside the evaluator in charge of electricity.
The evaluator, a middle-aged man with a serious expression, cast a brief glance at Varis, who responded with an almost imperceptible nod.
"Candidate Mio," he said, his grave voice echoing in the silence. "The test consists of a sequence of ten energy projectiles, fired at irregular intervals. The objective is to avoid being hit. Are you ready?"
"I am," I replied, my voice sounding strangely calm in the silent space.
He gave no verbal signal. He just moved his hands.
A swift flash obstructed my vision. From that distance, for an exercise designed to be solved with barriers and defensive spells, it would normally be impossible this way.
The silence on the field was absolute. Varis remained motionless beside the evaluator, her arms still crossed, but her face was no longer a neutral mask. It was a screen of intense concentration, her eyes fixed on every micro-movement of mine.
Around us, the other candidates had stopped whispering. There were no more exchanged glances or muffled comments. The only similarity on every face—candidates, evaluators, even the other instructors at a distance—was the distinct expression surrounding them: a mix of raw surprise and an almost superstitious fear.
My gaze slipped backward, for a fraction of a second. At the spot where the electrical projectile had impacted the containment wall in the background, small electrical sparks still danced, fading quickly into the wall.
It was at that moment that Varis moved. Not a big gesture, just a slight tilt of her head toward the evaluator.
"Continue," her voice sounded low but sharp in the static silence of the field. The order wasn't for me. It was for the man beside her.
1.5 seconds to the right leg. The next will hit the left hand in sequence.
The phantom tingling—the prior sensation of an impact my eyes hadn't seen, materializing in the flesh—vanished the moment the real bolts streaked through the air.
Again, the electrical projectiles found only stone. Two new sharp, dry cracks added to the previous ones, and two more black, smoking marks joined the collection on the wall behind me.
The subsequent shots were merely repetitions. Bolts that, regardless of their angle or moment of release, found only the empty trajectory my body had already abandoned. Each impact against the wall behind me sounded like a period at the end of a sentence that no one, besides me, seemed able to read.
When the final signal sounded, there were no cheers, just a dense, charged silence. Varis remained in her place, motionless, her face now an impenetrable mask of analysis. She didn't utter a single word.
Katia was the first to move. She crossed the short distance between us and grabbed both my arms, her fingers squeezing with a force proportional to her worry and disbelief.
"You are out of your mind." she raised her voice, her lavender eyes fixed on my face as if seeking some kind of apology.
"You knew I was going to do this, so why the surprise?" My voice came out low, to the point where I couldn't even hear it myself. Sounds invaded our space in a fraction of a second.
A crowd of candidates. Their faces no longer bore that superstitious expression from before; now they shone with a pure, burning curiosity.
A tall, lanky boy, squeezed at the front, spoke first, his high-pitched voice cutting through the commotion: "How did you do that? Was it some new kind of spell?"
Beside him, a girl with tight braids poked his arm. "But there was no activation movement."
From behind the group, the voice of a short boy, laden with distrustful skepticism, shouted: "Is it some secret technique? She's with the Iceharts…"
Katia let out an audible sigh and stepped forward, placing herself more distinctly between me and the crowd.
A touch that landed on my shoulder from behind was light, almost courteous, but the intention behind it was icy. I didn't turn around. I already knew who it was.
Before the boy could consider a word, a figure interposed.
"The test is concluded," Varis declared, and her voice, normally casual, had the chill of a sharpened blade. There was no volume, only cut. "Only the designated instructors have the right to evaluate performance.
She turned completely toward the boy, and even without seeing him, I could feel the weight of Varis's gaze.
"We observed all actions during the exam." she continued, each syllable measured like a step in a courtroom. "Especially those that seemed hidden."
"One more action I deem out of line," she continued, each syllable measured, "and you will be disqualified not just from this exercise, but from the entire selection process. Is that clear?"
There was no answer. Just a heavy, embarrassed silence, followed by the sound of footsteps quickly retreating.
"Very well." The sound of Varis's clap echoed through the hall. "Now we will proceed to the elemental magic examination. Maintain your focus and follow me in silence."
The candidates organized themselves, and we followed through the school corridor to the wide central courtyard.
Why? Did he understand what I did?
" The House Cecita," Katia's low voice reached my ear as we walked, like a direct echo to my silent thought. "Is one of the founding families. They've been here since the first stone of the Capital was laid."
"But what does that have to do with his attitude?" I asked, keeping my tone equally low.
"They maintain a cult. Something so old it only survives within their own walls." She shrugged, a light gesture of frustration. "I don't know the details, sorry. I'll ask my father when I get the chance."
We entered a circular room, illuminated by a soft, diffuse light coming from the ceiling itself. Everyone's attention, however, was immediately captured by the walls.
Two enormous portraits of men looked in the same direction. Between them, a large empty space on the wall with a slightly different color and texture.
A series of magical orbs were arranged in a line before us, each hovering slightly above a pedestal. The glow of the spheres varied, as if each were waiting for the right touch to react.
"Eyes here, please." Varis's voice brought everyone back to the present.
She lightly tapped the table in front of her, where a row of elemental orbs waited, inert under the soft light.
"Place your hands on the orbs," she instructed. "Each of you must channel your mana toward the corresponding sphere. The objective is for the sphere to react according to each mage's element."
"Katia…" my voice came out lower than I intended. "If I fail here, it's four years until the next chance. Four years is a long time for a maybe."
"Don't think about that." Her hands intertwined with mine with a strength that contradicted the softness of her words. "The result now is just a stamp."
"Indeed," I murmured, and took a decisive step toward the line that was forming.
No strategy this time. Just go and see.
"And I'll be right here," Katia said, and this time her smile had no traces of worry, just a fierce and simple loyalty. "I'll make a scene if something goes wrong."
All I did was smile, as if indicating thanks for everything Katia had done for me.
I took the lead, positioning myself in front of the first orb in the line.
The evaluator beside the table, a man with a tired expression, repeated the instructions as if reciting them for the hundredth time that day.
"Apply a continuous flow of mana to the orb. No force, just constancy. The color that appears will indicate your elemental affinity. You may begin when ready."
I placed my hands on the smooth surface of the orb, feeling the slight vibration of mana circulating within it. I concentrated to inject mana into the orb and... Nothing.
Around me, the other candidates saw their spheres glow, tremble, and pulse as their elemental affinities manifested. Some proud smiles, other tense looks, but everyone had some reaction—except me.
"You may begin…" The evaluator repeated, frowning.
Varis walked slowly along the line, observing each attempt. When she reached my sphere, she leaned slightly, furrowing her brow.
"Candidate Mio, you may begin the test. We cannot keep the others waiting."
I sighed and applied mana to the orb again, only to get the same response.
Unlike the evaluator, who was clearly annoyed, Varis's eyes opened in a way I knew well.
"No reaction? But it's clear you're applying mana." she murmured to herself, then settled her gaze on the evaluator.
"Can you confirm if the orb reacted before?" She questioned the evaluator at the table, who shook his head in denial.
Her gaze turned to confusion, as if in a set of protocols, there was no answer for her doubt.
"Candidate Mio." Varis made a brief pause. "Do you have any singular magic?"
"No," I replied without hesitation, already knowing the question she would ask me.
She sighed, a short action, but in that moment it seemed to stretch into eternity.
"You are disqualified…" She declared in a firm voice.
The silence that followed Varis's declaration was dense, charged by the weight of fifty pairs of eyes turning toward me as a single organism. A murmur of comments arose in the background—cutting whispers, muffled exclamations—but they didn't reach my ears. Everything sounded as if I were submerged in water, distant and irrelevant.
Until a voice cut through the haze, clear and challenging.
"That doesn't make sense!" Katia stepped forward, positioning herself between me and Varis. "She passed all the other tests like anyone here. Even without a clear elemental affinity, she didn't show herself to be different from anyone."
"I understand your frustration." she replied, her voice maintaining a professional calm that contrasted brutally with the heat of my friend's intervention. "And I recognize the exceptional performance in other aspects. But I cannot allow an exception. The rules of the admission exam are clear and written in stone: a demonstrable elemental affinity is a fundamental requirement."
She paused, her gaze shifting from Katia to me.
"If you wish to contest the application of the rule," Varis continued, with a different tone than when she spoke about rules, "The procedure is to request a review from the board of directors.
A dry, cutting laugh invaded the room, instantly redirecting all attention like a lightning bolt. The candidate from House Cecita was standing, a bit apart from the group, his lips curved in a smile of pure, cold satisfaction.
"Well, well," his voice echoed, laden with allegorical conviction. "Wasn't I right? You can try to deceive us, but Mana never lies. Get out of here."
Varis brought her fingers to her head, running her hand through her hair. Then, her entire body recomposed itself. The relaxed posture vanished, replaced by a steel rigidity, and her bright-red eyes ignited with absolute determination.
Before she could take any action, her body locked in place, freezing her mid-movement. Then, in a fluid and involuntary gesture, she bent one knee to the floor, her head lowering in an arc of absolute respect.
The reason hovered in the air, in front of one of the enormous portraits.
"That is not the freedom we preach here." The voice came from above, confusing some candidates who sought the source of the sound for a few moments.
The Vice-Principal, Selene Dauris, floated a few inches off the ground, wrapped in a silence louder than any scream. Once again, with disconcerting economy of movement, she had redirected the axis of all attention in the room, becoming the only fixed point in a universe of shock and surprise.
Selene descended to the ground with the same smoothness with which she had appeared, her feet touching the marble without making a sound. Her gaze, heavy and ancient, swept the room before fixing on me.
"If there is something truly unusual about this candidate," her voice was like water running over stone, clear and unquestionable, "then our duty is to investigate, not exile. This school exists to unfold mysteries, not to bury them for convenience."
Upon hearing the words, Varis stood up. The previous rigidity had dissolved, replaced by an almost comical relaxation. She rubbed the back of her neck with one hand, a broad and genuine smile plastered on her face, as if she had instantly forgotten the fury and formality of the previous seconds.
"Sorry about that, girl," she said, directing the smile and a casual gesture toward me. "Regulations are annoying sometimes."
"You did nothing wrong, Varis," Selene spoke without formalities. "I will update the test regulations in the coming years."
Varis then turned, her smile still on her lips, but her eyes regaining a calculating glint as they settled on the candidate from House Cecita, who remained motionless, his face now pale.
"As for you—" Varis began, but Selene raised a hand slightly, a tiny gesture that silenced the room.
"That won't be necessary," declared Selene. "Let him be."
"I believe my intervention has disrupted the flow of the tests," she continued, in a tone that turned chaos into mere inconvenience. "Please proceed. Treat the incident as an unwanted pause, nothing more."
Without waiting for a response, assent, or farewell, Selene turned and left. The silence she left behind lasted only a heartbeat.
"MI-O!"
Katia exploded into motion. All the weight of the tension, anxiety, and sudden relief converged into an ungainly leap that projected her directly onto me. Her arms enveloped me with a force that took my breath away, and she buried her face in my shoulder, her body trembling not from crying, but from pure, uncontainable euphoria.
The assessments proceeded until all students had touched the orbs. To general surprise, another sphere shone with singular intensity: a vibrant green, revealing the rare presence of a wind mage.
Katia was still clinging to me like an euphoric limpet when Varis's voice cut through the general relief—now laden with a flat and profoundly displeased tone.
"One case of non-existent elemental affinity requiring the Vice-Principal's intervention. One troublesome student. And now," she pointed to the student whose orb still pulsed green, "one with wind magic."
"What luck, huh?" Katia commented, relieved, as soon as she confirmed I wouldn't be failed.
"Yeah… for a moment, I already imagined having to invent some absurd excuse to tell my parents after getting this far," I replied, trying to disguise the weight I had felt.
Katia smiled from the corner of her mouth. "Well, if necessary, I'd have made a scene so my father wouldn't send you back home."
I rolled my eyes without replying. The instructor then clapped her hands, calling everyone's attention. The spheres were collected, and in their place, a metallic box was brought by two assistants. The object trembled and emitted small cracks, as if something lived inside.
Varis clapped once, a dry sound that worked like a switch, turning off the remaining murmurs.
"The interval for existential crisis is over," she announced, her voice regaining a thread of practical energy, if not enthusiasm. "Follow me. The last test won't apply itself."
She led us out of the circular room, down a narrower, less ornate corridor. The air grew cooler, almost utilitarian. Conversations ceased, replaced by the collective sound of anxious footsteps and held breaths. Even Katia beside me seemed to have turned serious, her focus turned forward.
Upon reaching a room, Varis took the trembling box from the table, opened the lid with a dry click, and removed the object inside. It was a metallic sphere the size of an apple, its polished surface reflecting the faint light. Two sets of delicate, mechanical wings, made of the same metal, vibrated at its sides, producing the high-pitched buzz we had heard.
"This," she announced, holding the artifact that seemed to want to escape her fingers, "is a Magic Snitch. An artifact enchanted with a single purpose: to escape. The objective of the final test is equally simple: capture it. The rules, not so much."
She began to list, counting on her fingers again:
"Maximum time, ten minutes. Absolute prohibition against harming other candidates. Elemental magic permitted, but with control. Any extensive collateral damage will be considered a failure. And lastly, there is only one snitch and one winner."
Katia, who had been silent, broke into a wide, mischievous grin.
"This is amazing," she whispered. "Mio! Do you think they'll provide magical brooms for the chase?"
"Magical brooms?" I questioned, genuinely intrigued by Katia's absurd question.
"It's a reference! To the Parry Fotter Chronicles, you've never read them?" She seemed truly shocked. "Mio, we have to fix this flaw in your education. It's a classic."
Varis ignored the literary diversion, focusing again on the artifact in her hand.
"Use creativity. Reason. Adapt." Her eyes swept over our faces. "It's not just about speed. It's about being smarter than a piece of metal.
When Varis opened her hand, the restless snitch began to dance—an erratic and hypnotic ballet of tight curves, loops, and sudden dives, all within a space of a few cubic meters in the center of the room.
"May magic guide your paths." Varis declared, touching the snitch with the tip of her finger.
The snitch froze in the air for a millisecond and then shot off like a lightning bolt in a straight line toward the large open door, turning into a silvery gleam that disappeared into the blinding light of the campus.
The sound of the snitch moving away was still echoing in the air when one of the candidates—a boy—acted. He jumped from the floor we were on directly to the ground, running straight for the door.
He drove both hands into the ground, and stones erupted, growing in seconds to completely seal the large doorway through which the snitch had fled.
The boy stood up, brushing dirt from his fingers with a satisfied smile. His eyes shone with the obvious tactic: impede the others and buy time.
I see, the rules specified it was prohibited to harm other candidates, but didn't prohibit hindering. My feet hit the ground with more force than usual.
He turned instantly, the sound of my feet landing on the ground behind him seemed to have surprised him.
The boy froze. His eyes widened first at me, standing a few steps from his back, already in a running stance.
Then, slowly, almost in slow motion, his gaze shifted from me to the large arched window, open, above the door he had sealed.
Without a word, I was already in motion, shooting across the campus.
Okay, the snitch is near the track used for the endurance test.
A ghostly light streaked through my peripheral vision to the left, followed by the hissing sound of superheated air. It wasn't the snitch. It was a trail of compact fire, fired in a curved trajectory.
Not a direct attack, an attempt to block the path. The thought solidified my reaction to brake the run.
"That's not an intelligent interpretation of the rules," my voice came out flat, emotionless, as I turned for the first time to face him directly. The candidate from House Cecita was a few meters behind, his hand still extended from the conjuration. "If it had hit me, you'd already be out."
"But it didn't hit, did it?" He shrugged. "And you stopped. It worked."
He was right on one point: I had stopped. And in that brief stalemate, the sound of hurried footsteps reached us. Other candidates, having circumvented or overcome the initial barrier, now passed us—some casting curious glances, others ignoring us completely, focused only on the chase for the snitch still glinting in the distance.
"If your idea of winning is to delay me or take me out of the game," I said, turning my body slightly so he could see beyond me, "that's not going to be enough."
In the distant field, the snitch danced in the air above the running track, unharmed. The other candidates who had passed us tried to reach it with useless jumps or imprecise magics, their efforts seeming clumsy and slow compared to the artifact's erratic movements.
He looked, and something broke in his expression—the frustration, the anger at the challenge I represented, everything converged into a brute instinct. His right hand ignited with a bright, unstable orange flame.
"Then let's see what is enough!" He roared, and hurled the fireball directly at me.
Panic crossed his face an instant later, when he realized I didn't move, didn't dodge, didn't conjure a defense. His eyes widened in anticipated horror at what he had done.
But the impact never came.
Something cut the air between us with a cold hiss. A translucent ice arrow intercepted the fireball halfway. The collision was silent and brutal—a blinding flash, followed by an explosion of steam and shattered ice fragments that rained down on the grass between us.
When the mist cleared, Katia was beside me, landing with the lightness of a jump I hadn't even heard. Her ice bow was still tensed in her hands, and her lavender eyes were fixed on the candidate from House Cecita with a coldness I had never seen in them before.
Without further words, I turned and resumed running toward the snitch, leaving the candidate paralyzed amid the steam and ice fragments. Katia followed my movements, after making a little 'bye-bye' wave with her hand amid a clearly provocative smile.
"Any brilliant plan?" she asked, her voice loaded more with excitement than lack of breath. "And do you want help, or is that cheating?"
"No," I replied, increasing the pace slightly. "And no. At this very moment, here, we are opponents."
A wide, genuine smile lit up Katia's face, as if I had given the exact answer she expected.
"That's what I thought," she said, and her eyes shone with the accepted challenge.
For a moment, I distanced myself from her, opening up a few precious meters as the training field and the dancing snitch ahead approached rapidly.
The field before me was a chaotic, colorful battlefield.
A tangle of differently colored magics tore through the air toward the snitch still dancing, evasive, above the track. Jets of cobalt-blue water crossed with whitened lightning bolts and compact orange fire. Low walls of brown earth sprouted from the ground in desperate attempts to block routes or create platforms.
Meanwhile, a larger group of candidates watched timidly from the edge of the field, hesitating to enter the whirlwind of conflicting elements.
*A future of fire to the left. Stone rising to the right in 1.7 seconds. Lightning shots will pass overhead. The snitch, a curved trajectory exiting the path of the magics. Twenty-three possible futures in the next three seconds. The shortest path is the riskiest.*
A series of minimal, precise adjustments: a sudden tilt of the torso that let a water jet pass inches from my chest; a duck of the head that felt the heat of a bolt grazing my hair. Without reducing speed, I used the very stone walls others had erected as obstacles to my advantage, leaping from one to another in an ascending, irregular trajectory.
At the top of the last wall, a small fragment of rock was dislodged. My foot found it on the final thrust of the leap. The tip of my boot leveraged it upward. In the same motion, I grabbed the rock fragment in mid-air—without losing momentum, with the impulse of my entire body, I threw the rock like a dart toward the snitch.
The rock I threw didn't follow a straight line to the snitch. It followed a calculated arc, intercepting not the target, but a sphere of compact fire crossing the air in its trajectory.
The collision was dry and bright. The fire magic shattered, dissipating into harmless sparks.
It was the opening I needed. At the exact instant the blinding light from the collision created a momentary curtain of chaos and inattention, I executed a leap, body extended in a dive, hands forward, straight for the empty point in the air where the snitch was.
An orange flash invaded my peripheral vision. A perfect arc aimed directly at my chest mid-air, impossible to dodge without aborting the dive.
My right hand, responsible for reaching the snitch, moved on instinct. The air around it distorted for a fraction of a second, and when it stabilized, the dagger was already firmly gripped. I hurled the blade in a short, powerful motion.
It met the fireball at the highest point of its arc. The impact was followed by a cloud of hot steam and sparks that dissipated quickly.
But the interruption was enough. The snitch, startled by the nearby explosion, shot upward with a sharp buzz, escaping by inches from my fingers, which now closed on empty air.
I landed on the ground, bending my knees to dissipate the impact. My eyes were already searching the air for the fleeing silvery gleam. My hand extended again, and the dagger, completing its fall, spun in the air before falling perfectly into my grasp, its cold, familiar hilt meeting my palm at the exact moment.
"I'm tired of this farce." The voice, grave and laden with frustration, cut through the field's murmur.
It was the candidate who had sealed the entrance with the earth wall. He was no longer looking at the snitch. His gaze was fixed on the candidate from House Cecita.
"Your beliefs," he said, his voice now low and dangerously calm, "you keep to yourself. Don't use them as an excuse to disguise your blatant prejudice."
He pointed a sword at the candidate from Casa Cecita, a clear and defiant gesture, though still at a safe distance.
The tangle of magics had given way to a heavy air. The rest of the people in the area just stopped to watch the scene.
"Don't do it." I warned, dematerializing the dagger into the void. "If you attack him openly, you'll be disqualified."
The snitch went to the obstacle test area; pursuing it there will be difficult. Oh, Katia is going after it.
"Then why hasn't this trash been disqualified?" The candidate retorted, still holding the sword.
"Probably," I replied, without taking my eyes off the direction the snitch had gone, "has to do with the woman sitting on the roof."
Sitting on the edge of one of the tallest towers, legs casually dangling, was a figure wrapped in a dark blue cloak. Even at a distance, the calm, observant posture was unmistakable.
The candidate looked at the roof. His eyes widened. The anger on his face dissolved instantly, replaced by alarmed recognition. Without a word, he closed his hand around the blade. The air distorted again, and the sword disappeared, returned to its storage space as quickly as it had appeared.
The conflict died before it even began, under the silent, omnipresent gaze of Selene Dauris.
Focus abruptly returned to the sky. The snitch, taking advantage of the pause in the terrestrial conflict, shot out from the obstacle area like a silver comet, climbing toward the imposing roofs of the school.
Katia emerged from the obstacle zone moments later, her lavender hair disheveled with some tiny twigs stuck in it. She huffed, rubbing a scratch on her arm.
"Almost!" she complained, arriving beside me with long strides. "The thing passed between two trunks that sprouted out of nowhere. I dodged one, the other grazed me. So unfair."
She followed my gaze upward, where the small silvery dot began to dance above the school roof.
While most of the candidates ran toward the school entrances, aiming for the internal stairs to reach the roofs, I remained standing, watching the snitch describe haughty circles above the tiles.
"Mio?" Katia stopped beside me, bouncing. "What are you waiting for?"
"You can go ahead," I replied, my calm voice contrasting with the urgency around us.
Katia blinked, confused for a second, but then a glint of understanding ignited in her eyes.
"Right," she agreed, a quick smile touching her lips. "Don't complain when I've won because you chose to stay here."
Maybe I can use him to reach the snitch. I almost got it this time because the environment was chaotic; in a direct confrontation, I don't stand a chance.
I waited until she disappeared through the door. Then, I turned. The candidate from House Cecita was still in the field, watching the stampede with a bitter expression.
"Let's settle this on the roof," I proposed, without preamble.
"Why would I do that? I can end you right here." He argued with a tone of skepticism. "This time, there's no one to intercept."
"There are less than four minutes left until the test ends. The roof will be chaos amid so much magic; it's much more likely you'll hit me 'by accident,' isn't it?"
He was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he weighed the options.
"The roof, then. But don't expect mercy."
He disappeared through the main entrance, opting for the conventional route up the stairs.
Without waiting further, I turned to the side of the building where a series of ornamental columns and spouts projected from the fa?ade.
My first leap was to a stone base. The second, to the capital of a column. The third, using the edge of a spout as support. In seconds, I was approaching the roofline, much faster than anyone climbing the internal stairs.
My feet touched the slate roof with a soft sound. The scene that greeted me was one of concentrated chaos: candidates scattered, trying in vain to reach the snitch buzzing like a metallic, irritating insect among the chimneys, well out of reach of any jump or short-range magic.
Hm? Katia isn't here; what is she doing? That was the first thing I noticed upon reaching the roof.
I stood at the edge of the roof, observing the other candidates. Some were coming close to actually getting the snitch.
Then, the roof access door at the far end opened. The candidate from House Cecita emerged, slightly winded from the climb. His eyes, still charged with the controlled anger from before, swept the crowd until they found mine, standing still and observing from afar.
Sitting on the edge of the low parapet, my gaze swept the roof, cataloging each element before descending.
Some stone pillars, the space must be about thirty meters across. The snitch isn't flying that high.
As soon as I descended, without warning, I was met by three compact orbs of fire, the size of fists, launched in rapid succession.
Didn't expect him to attack directly, even with the provocation.
As soon as my feet touched the ground, I propelled myself into a quick run along the edge, horizontally.
The three fire orbs passed through the space my body had occupied an instant before. Two of them hit the stone parapet where I had been sitting, shattering the top with a dry crack and leaving black soot stains. The third exploded in the empty air a few meters beyond.
Second time… I need something more concrete.
I stopped running upon reaching a more open area of the roof, away from the groups still trying, in vain, to reach the snitch. I stood facing him, offering a clear line of fire, no obstructions.
He interpreted it as a tactical surrender. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between us with large, aggressive strides, believing proximity would make his attack inescapable.
Arm and abdomen, the last shot will go wide. Three shots, the last without control, I thought, the cold calculation preceding the action.
As soon as the three incandescent spheres left his hands, my body was already moving. A minimal twist of the hips, an almost imperceptible tilt of the shoulders—the projectiles passed, one hissing close to my sleeve, another heating the air above my stomach, the third disappearing into the void behind me, exactly as predicted.
Did he forget his goal was just to delay me?
Another advance was made, this time toward him. He retreated, no way out, his speed insufficient relative to my advance.
He roared in frustration and fired three more shots.
The first was aimed at my chest. At the exact moment of its launch, a candidate trying to create a platform to reach the snitch inadvertently conjured a thick pillar of earth that sprouted from the roof between us. The jet of fire hit it squarely, exploding the pillar into a rain of earth and gravel that created an instant curtain of dust.
The second jet, adjusted to compensate, aimed at the ground in front of me, trying to cut off my path. My feet were already propelling me upward at the moment of impact. The explosion against the tiles happened just behind my heels, the hot blast pushing me forward.
My feet found the top of the wall and propelled me, launching me in a final leap. In mid-air, the third shot arrived, aimed precisely at my head. A movement was possible, simple and efficient.
I tilted my neck. The fire passed close to my ear, straight for the point in space where, by a perfect coincidence of timing, the snitch made a sharp turn to escape another magic.
This is the opening I was waiting for. The plan, conceived in fractions of a second, materialized along with the familiar weight of the dagger in my hand.
The snitch, startled by the heat, adjusted its escape—and in this adjustment, became vulnerable.
The blade shot forth like a silver bolt. Not to where it was, but to where its movement would take it.
The sound was dry and metallic—the clash of two bodies in friction. The tip of the dagger struck it with enough force. The frantic buzz of the snitch cut off. It wavered in the air, dead for an instant.
My feet touched the roof. I was already bending for the final push, eyes locked on the target, falling in slow motion.
That's when a blue flash crossed my vision.
"Seriously?" The word escaped me, laden with cold incredulity.
It was an ice arrow, translucent and perfect. It crossed the roof and hit the snitch exactly at the point where it hesitated, encasing it in a frosty crust for a fraction of a second before gravity claimed it.
The artifact fell toward the terrace below, where, standing with her ice bow still tensed in her hands, was Katia—her lavender hair fluttering slightly, a smile of pure satisfaction plastered on her face.
The shrill sound of the final whistle echoed, sealing the end of the test.
"I got it!" she exclaimed, more to herself than anyone, spinning once in place with the gleaming metallic artifact in her hand.
"And with style, I might add."
The voice came from nowhere—or rather, from the midst of the small group of panting candidates gathering. Varis was simply there, as if she had always been part of the scenery. Her bright-red eyes settled on the snitch in Katia's hand, then swept over the rest of us, marking the exhaustion, frustration, and the few traces of admiration.
"Congratulations, Katia Icehart. Timely creativity and excellent marksmanship," she said, with a nod that was both recognition and dismissal of the matter. "The rest of you, look like you need some shade and a drink. The test is over."
She turned, her blue cloak fluttering.
"Follow me inside. The results and the consequences." Her gaze rested for an instant on the candidate from House Cecita, standing at a distance, pale and silent. "—will be communicated shortly. And try not to break anything else on the way back."
Katia approached, still holding the snitch, her face illuminated by a victorious smile.
"I knew it," she whispered, triumphant. "If I followed you closely, an opening would eventually appear. It worked perfectly!"
My gaze drifted away from her, fixing on the distant horizon beyond the school roofs. I didn't respond.
"Hey," she nudged my shoulder with the metallic snitch. "Are you sulking? Are you?"
I let out a long sigh, finally turning to face her.
"I'm not sulking because you won." I paused, choosing my words. "You could have helped me deal with that idiot from House Cecita. But honestly, I didn't expect him to follow my plan all the way through."
"But I did help!" Katia closed her eyes, feigning innocence. "I intercepted his first fireball, remember? After that, it seemed like you were having fun."
"He almost burned my hair…" I retorted, but a corner of my mouth betrayed me, curving slightly upward. "Anyway, congratulations on the win; it was deserved."
"Ah, I saw," Katia laughed, a light, satisfied sound. "If he had done that, I would have shot him directly.
Back in the exam hall, the air was thick with fatigue and repressed tension. Varis positioned herself in front of the group, her eyes sweeping each exhausted face.
"Very well. Regardless of the final result, you completed the circuit," she began, her voice losing a bit of its earlier chill. "It was an exercise in endurance, creativity, and, for some, in discovering limits they'd rather not know. I watched everything up close. I noted everything."
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. Then, her tone changed, becoming formal and incisive.
"Now, the last matter of the day." Her gaze, now a blade, went straight to the candidate from House Cecita, who remained isolated near the door. "Alessio Cecita, you are, as of this moment, expelled from the Fontana School of Magic's selection process."
A murmur ran through the room.
"The reasons are multiple," Varis continued, speaking clearly for all to hear. "Use of magic with the clear intent to harm other candidates, repeated disrespect for conduct rules, and attempt to manipulate the test's progress for personal benefit through coercion and attack.
She inclined her head, a gesture almost of pity that didn't reach her eyes. "The school does not tolerate this behavior. The guard will be notified to escort you to the gates."
Two guards in simple armor but with impeccable posture entered the room after a brief signal from Varis. They approached the candidate from House Cecita without a word. He offered no resistance. He was led out, and the sound of the door closing behind them echoed with a final tone.
As the scene unfolded, my gaze caught, for a brief instant, the student who had confronted the Cecita boy earlier. He was standing a bit apart, arms crossed, and on his lips was a discreet but intense smile of vindicated satisfaction.
Varis waited for the silence to re-establish itself completely.
"The official results of the tests, including final scores and the list of successful candidates, will be posted in two hours in the central courtyard," she announced, recovering a more neutral tone. "Until then, you are dismissed. Rest, hydrate, try not to cause any more incidents." The last comment came with a tired but not entirely humorless look. "Dismissed."
"Let's find Bela before the announcement," I said, trying to catch my breath as we walked away from the room.
Katia just nodded, panting. "Yes."
We walked down the corridor, nerves still on edge manifesting in short laughs and scattered comments about the chaos we had just left behind. In the inner courtyard, in the shade of the trees, Bela was sitting on a stone bench. She stood up as soon as she saw us.
"Finally! I was starting to think you two had decided to take the exam a second time," she said, crossing her arms, but relief was evident in her eyes. "So? How was it?"
Katia couldn't contain herself. She jumped forward, eyes shining.
"I won! I caught the snitch at the last second. Mio's face was like this—" she made an exaggerated expression of shock.
"Stop lying, Katia. This girl rarely expresses anything on that little face of hers," Bela widened her eyes, doubt appearing on her face. "But then, you won the final exam?"
"It's true," Katia admitted, not losing her enthusiasm. "Mio helped me win."
Bela looked from one to the other, perplexed. "Wait… you two worked together?"
"No!" I said, at the same time Katia exclaimed:
"Yes!"
We had an awkward pause. Katia shrugged, scratching the back of her neck. "It was more of a… cooperation of convenience."
"Cooperation of convenience?" Bela repeated, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
"Exactly!" Katia laughed. "Mio kept everyone busy, and I kept watch, waiting for the right moment. It was perfect."
Bela let out a long sigh, but a stubborn smile insisted on her lips.
"You two are a hopeless case. But, thinking about it, it kind of makes sense. After all the training I put you through, if there was anyone there capable of really hindering you, they wouldn't be in an entrance exam."
"You're exaggerating," I retorted, letting my hand rest on my stomach, which rumbled discreetly. So hungry. I want cake.
While Katia expounded on the upcoming ceremony and Bela listened with patient attention, I settled on the bench. The late afternoon air, now free from the exam tension, seemed lighter. I let the fatigue and residual adrenaline dissipate, watching my two companions and, finally, accepting the simple relief of having survived another day in this new world.
Shortly before five p.m., the central courtyard buzzed with the contained energy of dozens of candidates. Selene Dauris waited impassively in the center, before a large board covered by a dark cloth.
"Attention," her voice, firm and clear, cut through the murmur. "Each stage of the exam has been evaluated. The sum of individual scores will determine your final ranking."
She paused, letting the silence settle.
"The maximum score is one thousand points. The minimum score for passing is seven hundred. Below that, there is no entry this cycle."
A murmur of anxiety ran through the group. Selene then extended her arm and pulled the cloth.
The fabric slipped, revealing the list. Names and numbers shone under the light, a silent verdict carved in stone. A human wave moved toward the board—some with determined steps, others dragging their feet.
Katia and I exchanged a look, the tension tangible between us. We advanced together.
My eyes scanned the lines. Mio Al Phoenicis... 860.
The air I didn't know I was holding escaped in a short sigh. I had passed. Comfortably.
"Eight hundred and sixty," Katia murmured beside me, her tone a mix of admiration and disbelief.
Bela appeared behind us, her gaze scanning the number beside my name.
"You were exceptional in everything," she commented, pragmatic. "The affinity test was the only thing holding you back. They'll probably have to update the exam regulations because of you."
I nodded silently. The number spoke for itself.
Then, Katia's gaze froze. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pointed to a line higher up.
"One thousand," the word came out as a breath. "Perfect score."
Bela watched the two of us, a rare, proud smile lighting up her face.
"Congratulations. To both of you." Her gaze settled on me. "Mio, you redefined what's possible without an element." She turned to Katia. "And you, Katia, proved to be more than a surname. Your father will swell with pride."
In that moment, between relief and exhaustion, the future seemed less like an abyss and more like a door, finally opened. The effort, the pain, the nights of study—all converged into that number on the board and into the path that now began within those walls.