The grand courtyard of Mystic Academy buzzed with conversation, the air thick with excitement, nerves, and the faint scent of magically sterilized marble. Students in crisp black coats with silver trim and the academy crest over their hearts stood in neat rows. Beyond them, a vast testing field stretched like a gladiatorial arena, enclosed by shimmering magical barriers.
Above the field, a large floating screen displayed student names, numbers, and soon, their awakening results. At the center stood the Awakening Orb, a miniature sun encased in glass, its liquid light swirling and pulsing with power.
This was where students' mana talents would be awakened and judged.
Lytio Tempest stood quietly among the crowd, hands in his pockets, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. Despite the tension around him, he looked like someone roused from a nap and mildly annoyed it had ended.
He scanned the crowd. Most students vibrated with anxiety, whispering prayers to any god listening. A few feigned calm, but their tight jaws and white-knuckled grips betrayed them.
Lytio raised an eyebrow. "Bunch of overachievers."
He glanced at the academy gates. Victor wasn't there. Good. The man was probably off drinking tea or polishing his sword in a field, pretending not to care. Officially, Victor was too high-ranking to mingle with academy riffraff. Unofficially, he'd made it clear he wouldn't set foot on the field. His job was to deliver Lytio safely. Nothing more.
A horn sounded—a soft, refined note—and silence blanketed the courtyard.
An old man floated into the air, slowly and deliberately. His white hair shimmered faintly under the morning sun, and his long black-and-silver robes fluttered as he surveyed the sea of students with tired, experienced eyes.
"Students of Mystic Academy," he began, his voice magically amplified, deep and commanding. "Today marks the first step of your journey. You will face many battles, but none as defining as this."
Lytio yawned. Subtle, but obvious.
The old man continued. "Your name and number will be called. Step forward. Place your hands on the Awakening Orb. Your potential will be revealed."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"Number 56. Step forward."
A skinny boy with straw-like hair stumbled forward, nearly tripping over his robes. He approached the orb cautiously, hesitated, then placed his hands on its surface.
The orb pulsed with a soft hum, its colors coalescing into a green glow.
"Green Rank – Average talent."
Some students nodded approvingly. Others looked relieved. A few scoffed.
The boy slunk back into the crowd, eyes downcast.
One by one, names were called. The orb flared in different hues: yellow for weak, blue for above average, and—rarely—violet.
When a girl stepped up and the orb glowed vibrant violet, the crowd gasped.
"Violet Rank – Exceptional talent!"
Students muttered excitedly, whispering about elite families and high expectations.
Lytio leaned against a pillar, arms crossed.
"Showoffs," he muttered.
The calls continued.
"Number 762. Step forward."
"Yellow Rank – Weak talent."
"Number 944. Step forward."
"Blue Rank – Above average talent."
And so it went. The numbers climbed, and Lytio's mind wandered.
He recalled the ride here—smooth, boring, and filled with Victor's annoying lectures. "Don't start fights. Don't antagonize the faculty. Don't seduce any nobles." Typical bodyguard nonsense.
Finally—
"Number 1005. Step forward."
A hush swept the crowd. That number.
Whispers began.
"Isn't that the Tempest kid?"
"The bastard son of the Tempest Family."
"Didn't he disappear for years?"
"They say his mother was a—"
"He's the betrayer's child…"
Lytio rolled his neck, the faint crack audible in the silence. He walked forward, unhurried, as if he weren't the center of attention.
He reached the Awakening Orb and studied it closely for the first time.
Liquid light. Swirling power.
It called to something inside him.
No hesitation.
He placed his hands on the orb.
And the world held its breath.
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