The Avalor nation was considered as the third largest nation among the twelve nations of the post-Uprising era. It was spread over
15 million square kilometers, and covered approximately 4.7% of Kalun's land area and 2.5% of its total surface area. In other words, it had an extremely vast territory.
Avalor was split into thirty-three city-states, which in turn contained many towns. As for the areas that weren't under the protection of cities or towns by extension, they weren't inhabited by humans since those areas couldn't resist the attacks from mutated beasts.
Caligula Town was a small
town situated in the city-state of Vicaar, a city-state on the northern border of Avalor. As the entire northern shore was in contact with the ocean, the geography was quite harsh, the climate was extremely cold and the area was frequently hit by tsunamis.
Normally, Caligula would be one of those towns that shouldn't be very prosperous due to its harsh geographical and climatic conditions. However, it defied expectations and thrived, largely due to the presence of the Altmer Cultivator's Guild.
The Altmer Guild was no ordinary organization. Founded relatively early in the age of Uprising, the guild had cemented its existence by serving as a key defense against the mutated beasts that roamed the uninhabited waters.
Caligula Town, despite its remote location and unforgiving climate, sat at the crossroads of several key trade routes that connected the northern city-states to the rest of Avalor. The guild recognized the town's strategic importance and established its headquarters there, turning Caligula into a bustling center of commerce and innovation.
The mere presence of the guild's headquarters attracted merchants, adventurers, and scholars from across the nation, all eager to trade for the guild's rare and valuable products.
In turn, the guild took the security of the area upon its shoulders. Given Caligula Town's position on the northern coast, where mutated sea beasts which were also a source of rare and potent materials for both gene solutions and potions frequently emerged from the depths, the guild had long since recognized the importance of mastering combat in aquatic environments and dedicated itself to developing specialized weapons, origin techniques, and combat strategies suited for battling on or over water.
This was why their academies placed a strong emphasis on cultivating adepts whose abilities enhanced their effectiveness in maritime combat. Cultivators with water-affinity abilities, aerial maneuverability, or adaptability to extreme cold found themselves heavily recruited.
As a result, the Altmer Guild arguably possessed the strongest maritime force among the official guilds in Vicaar. Their expertise was unparalleled when it came to subduing aquatic threats, whether it be large mutated sea creatures, rogue cultivators exploiting the ocean's vastness for illicit activities, or even territorial disputes between coastal settlements.
Beyond combat, the guild also played a crucial role in largely advancing naval technology. Their researchers pioneered ship enhancements, from better propulsion systems that allowed vessels to cut through even the roughest waters to advanced hull designs that could withstand the crushing pressures of the deep sea and the relentless assaults of mutated beasts.
These innovations were not only vital for the guild's own operations but also revolutionized trade and travel across Avalor's waters. Merchants and explorers alike sought out the guild's ships, which were renowned for their durability, speed, and ability to navigate treacherous conditions.
Due to its exalted status, the students of the Altmer Academy and official members of the Altmer Guild wore their respective uniforms with pride.
For the children of Caligula Town and the surrounding regions, there was no greater aspiration than to one day don the uniform of the Altmer Academy or, better yet, the official uniforms of the Altmer Guild.
It was a symbol of strength, prestige, and an unbreakable bond with the northern waters. To wear that uniform meant more than just personal achievement—it was a declaration that one had earned the right to stand against the horrors lurking beneath the waves, to protect the trade routes that sustained the north, and to be recognized as part of the most formidable maritime force in Vicaar.
That was why, every year, on the day of the Altmer Academy's entrance examination, the town buzzed with excitement and anticipation. For the young teens who had successfully awakened and embarked on the path of cultivation, this was their first step toward a future of greatness. It was a day filled with both hope and nervousness, as eager 12- and 13-year-olds, fresh from completing six years of mandatory elementary schooling, gathered at the academy's testing grounds. Each one was determined to prove their worth and seize the opportunity to rise above the rest.
Today was one such day.
The academy's grand courtyard, built with a direct view of the restless northern sea, was packed with young aspirants who had already formed a line. Some were nervous, their hands clenched into fists, while others brimmed with excitement, whispering among themselves about what trials they might face. Parents and spectators filled the sidelines, watching with bated breath as their wards got to the front of the line and were ushered into one of the various unoccupied testing rooms there.
Inside one of the testing rooms, the atmosphere was tense. The walls were reinforced with a combination of metal alloys and prime materials, designed to withstand the raw power of cultivators undergoing the examination. A set of overhead lights cast a clinical glow over the room, illuminating a large circular testing platform in the center.
Standing before the platform was an examiner—a tall, broad-shouldered man with deep scars across his arms, evidence of countless battles fought on the sea. He wore the dark blue uniform of the Altmer Guild, the sigil of a crashing wave emblazoned on his chest. His eyes were sharp, scanning the young cultivator before him who'd just finished his examination with a mix of scrutiny and mild amusement.
"Next," he called out.
A young boy, no older than thirteen, came inside. He was wiry, his clothes slightly loose on his frame, but his eyes burned with determination. His name—Jareth—was displayed on the tablet in the examiner's hand, along with a brief profile detailing his origin ability.
Jareth swallowed hard, stepping onto the testing platform as the door behind him sealed shut. The air inside the reinforced chamber carried a distinct chill, a deliberate measure to simulate the harsh conditions of the northern sea.
The examiner, arms crossed, studied him for a moment before speaking.
"Mr. Jareth, it says here that your C-grade Hydrokinesis-type adept ability enables you to shape water into different constructs based on your imagination. Can you explain more about it?"
Jareth took a deep breath, steadying himself as he met the examiner's sharp gaze. He had rehearsed this moment in his head countless times, but now that he stood on the testing platform, his pulse pounded against his temples. He knew that every word he spoke, every action he took in the next few minutes, could determine the trajectory of his future.
"Yes, sir," he began, his voice firm despite the nerves tightening his throat. "My ability allows me to manipulate water, shaping it into different constructs based on my imagination. The more complex the shape, the harder it is to maintain, and the more water I need. Right now, I can form simple weapons and shields and launch them over short distances."
The examiner raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"
Jareth nodded. "Yes, sir. It began while I was practicing control. I discovered that I could not only shape water into weapons but also give it movement—albeit briefly. Right now, I can maintain more than one construct within a ten-meter radius, but creating additional constructs drains my energy reserves and mental focus. Also, if my constructs move out of that range, they lose form and collapse back into liquid."
The examiner hummed, clearly intrigued. He tapped the tablet, likely making a note before looking up again. "And how well can you maintain control under stress? What happens when the environment changes suddenly?"
Jareth hesitated for a split second. Since his ability had been awoken four months ago, he had practiced tirelessly, pushing himself to the limits every day, but he knew the examiner wasn't just asking for theory. He was about to be tested.
"Let's see what you can do," the examiner said, gesturing toward the small reservoir of water in the center of the platform. "Demonstrate."
Jareth moved closer and took another deep breath, then he extended his hand. A ripple moved through the air as his origin energy activated, resonating with the water in the reservoir. Almost immediately, tendrils of liquid began to rise, twisting around his fingers like living vines.
With careful movements, he shaped the water into a narrow, blade-like construct—transparent, yet razor-sharp. The edges shimmered under the overhead lights as he solidified its form, making sure it didn't waver.
The examiner nodded slightly but didn't seem particularly impressed.
Jareth exhaled, pushing further. He split the water, forming two smaller daggers, then merged them back into a single, larger weapon. Shifting tactics, he dispersed the weapon entirely and instead molded the water into a hovering sphere.
It flickered slightly, the strain of maintaining the shape evident in Jareth's clenched jaw, but the sphere held its form, even as it "swam" through the air.
A few of the assistant examiners watching from the sidelines exchanged glances, murmuring among themselves.
"Impressive control," the main examiner admitted, his expression neutral. "But control alone isn't enough."
Without warning, he tapped a command on his tablet. Instantly, vents in the chamber opened, releasing a burst of icy wind. The sudden change in temperature sent a sharp chill through the air, and Jareth's sphere shuddered slightly before collapsing back into droplets. His breath came out in visible puffs, and his fingers trembled slightly from the cold.
The examiner didn't give him time to recover. "Reform it."
Jareth gritted his teeth, summoning his energy once more. The moisture around him felt sluggish, resisting his commands under the freezing conditions. He had trained in the cold before—anyone growing up in the north had—but this was something else entirely. The unnatural chill seemed to sap the very essence of his control.
Still, he refused to fail. Barring exceptional circumstances, this was his one and only chance to pave the way to becoming a future cultivator of the Altmer Guild, and he would not ruin it. He pulled at the lingering water, forcing it to gather again. This time, instead of a sphere, he shaped a swirling vortex of water, its surface rippling with precision. The construct was smaller than before, but it held its form despite the biting wind. Jareth's hands trembled, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead, but his focus never wavered.
The main examiner watched him for a moment before nodding. He tapped his tablet again and the vents closed, the temperature in the room beginning to stabilize. The icy wind ceased, leaving only the faint hum of the overhead light.
"You adapted," he acknowledged, his tone measured. "Not as quickly as I'd prefer, but you didn't panic. That's a start." He glanced at the tablet, skimming through Jareth's profile once more. "Your ability shows potential, but it's raw. With proper training, it could be honed into something formidable. Water manipulation is versatile, but the ocean is an unforgiving and unpredictable battlefield. If you want to survive out there, the first thing you need to learn is to master the art of adaptation, not just to the environment, but to the chaos of combat itself."
Jareth lowered his hands, letting the water vortex dissolve back into the reservoir as he finally ran out of origin energy. He took a moment to catch his breath before nodding in reply.
The examiner turned to one of the assistants. "Mark him as conditional pass. We'll see how he handles the physical assessment."
Jareth's breath caught in his throat. Conditional pass? That meant he wasn't outright rejected, but his performance hadn't been strong enough to secure a definite acceptance either. He had to go above and beyond in the next examination and prove himself worthy of the Altmer Academy.