Morning came dressed in mist.
Kyle stood alongside a hundred other first-years in a vast marble courtyard, the air charged with excitement and unspent magic. Above, enchanted banners shimmered with the academy's crest—a rising tower cradled by elemental rings. Beneath his boots, the stone hummed faintly, as if alive.
Orin adjusted his collar beside him. "Nervous?"
Kyle hummed in response." More curious."
He wasn't lying. His eyes, although they appeared still, were quietly analysing every detail around him.
A low chime echoed from the spire gates. Then a voice—smooth, deep, and amplified by magic—rolled over the crowd.
"First-years. Stand tall."
A man strode forward, his robes layered in woven starlight and etched silver. His short hair was blood red, the same colour as the gem on his wand. His eyes carried the gravity of someone who had seen... everything.
"I am Magister Caelum, overseer of your induction. Welcome to Ardenhall."
The crowd shifted with reverent murmurs.
Kyle had heard the name before. Caelum seemed to be a popular figure at Ardenhall; small chatter about him had popped up while Kyle explored the city the day before.
What kind of person is he to be so popular, besides being a mage? Kyle wondered.
"You arrive here as seeds," Caelum continued. "Plucked from field, forge, slum, palace. You have promise. Potential. But magic respects neither birth right nor blood—only will."
No birth right, only will. I like that a lot.
Caelum raised his hand. The air bent.
Above them, shimmering circles exploded into view—dozens of glowing glyphs forming a dome of magic. Each one pulsed in rhythm, emitting a resonant hum that vibrated in Kyle's bones.
"This is the Overseer Eye, a pact of presence," Caelum said. "It recognizes your presence here. Until all exams conclude, you are under its protection... and its watch."
One of the many eyes formed from the spell flared brighter, hovering above a girl nearby. She flinched.
"Even the slightest mumbles and whispers are observed," Caelum said calmly. "Be careful with your words."
Kyle swallowed.
The ceremony continued with brief speeches from each division's head: the Elementalist, the Spiritualist, the Alchemist, and the History and Combat professor. Each had their own distinct aura—earthy, sharp, arcane, unreadable. Kyle found himself drawn to the History and Combat professor's quiet intensity, though he couldn't explain why.
Then came the ceremonial offering.
Each student was to walk forward and place a personal item into the Flame of Intention—a floating brazier that shimmered with blue fire. It wouldn't burn the item, they were told. It would read it.
When his name was called, Kyle stepped forward.
He didn't have much. So he offered a Rad—a gold coin given to him by the village chief, shaped like a spiral sun.
He placed it in the flame.
The fire flared... and turned black.
Gasps whispered through the crowd. The flame rarely changed colour.
Even Caelum's brows rose slightly. "Interesting."
Kyle returned to his spot, heart pounding. Orin gave him a subtle thumbs-up before stepping forward himself, a screwdriver in hand. He focused on the flame, dropped the tool in, and returned with a small grin.
"That was harder than I expected," Orin whispered as the ceremony continued.
Once every student had made their offering, Caelum spoke again.
"Now that you have all shown your intent to devote yourselves to the world of magic, we shall proceed with a standard set of tests. These include assessments of mana control, strength, technique, and speed. However, first, you must all receive a reading from the resonance meter. Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir!" the students replied firmly.
As they walked toward the testing hall, the courtyard buzzed with whispers.
"Have you ever heard of the flame going black? "It was kind of scary...""You think that means something? Like, is he super strong or maybe cursed? "Shush! Don't say such things when the guy's right there!"
Inside, a large glowing orb sat atop a pedestal.
"Now, quiet up," Caelum instructed. "We will proceed as before, with names called in order. Step up, place your hand on the orb, and it will draw your mana until depletion. The result will determine your rank in terms of mana capacity. This is not a definitive certification of your overall magic ability."
One by one, names were called.
Students filed through—most receiving first or second ranks: Novice or Acolyte.
Weirdly enough, Orin went before Kyle, leaving him to be the last.
"All right. Kyle. Step forward," Caelum said, flipping through his clipboard.
Kyle nodded and did as instructed, placing his hand on the orb.
Nothing happened.
Zero. No reading at all.
Caelum's eyes narrowed. "Kyle, rank 0. It seems your mana is... as good as non-existent. You may step down."
Laughter exploded across the hall.
"Wow, how the hell does one get 0?""Even the earth has more mana than him! "This is priceless! Maybe that black flame meant he's weak after all!"
Kyle ignored them. The score didn't bother him—but something else did.
Atop one of the distant pillars, a shadowy figure stood—silent, watching. Yet no one else seemed to notice it.
What is that? Kyle thought.
Before he could act, a new voice echoed through the hall.
"It seems we are enjoying ourselves. Excellent," the voice said. It was Principal Veylan. "I'd like to borrow Kyle. Something about him has piqued my interest. I hope you don't mind, Magister Caelum?"
"Of course not, sir," Caelum replied, practically handing Kyle over without a second thought.
"Thank you. Now come, Kyle. We have much to discuss."
As the headmaster ushered Kyle out of the exam room, Caelum continued on as if nothing had happened.
They arrived at the headmaster's office, a vast room filled with crystalline artifacts and towering bookshelves. Kyle remained slightly guarded, though he knew he couldn't defend himself if things turned hostile.
"Take a seat, young one," Kasper Veylan said warmly. "I hope this will ease your worries about bypassing the entrance exams."
Kyle simply nodded and sat down, eyeing the principal cautiously.
Once again, that feeling struck him—a strange, impossible distance between them, even though Veylan sat right in front of him.
Why does he feel so distant? This weird feeling again...
"You're not much of a talker, I see. Roland never lies, it seems," Veylan chuckled. "Regardless, I do wish for you to study here—no strings attached... except working hard, of course."
Kyle studied him closely. The man seemed genuine. And if he was a friend of Roland's... how bad could he really be?
Kyle finally spoke. "Do you know why the flame turned black? Everyone was surprised... even Magister Caelum."
The headmaster's expression shifted. He had expected questions—just not that one.
"From what I know," Veylan said carefully, "the colour change occurs when someone is special. Although, it's different for each individual. A current third-year also caused a change—his flame turned gold. Yours... yours is the first recorded black flame."
Kyle processed the information quickly.
"So let me get this straight. This type of thing doesn't happen often. It's rare even within a generation. And somehow, I triggered an unknown variant of a rare phenomenon. Is there anywhere I can get more information about it?"
Veylan's brows rose, impressed by Kyle's quick deduction.
"You have quite the mind," Veylan said. "If you truly wish to learn, the archives at the Glasswalk would serve you well."
He paused, then continued.
"From our conversation alone, I feel confident granting you provisional grades for the entrance qualifications. You'll be assigned a Novice rank for mana-based practice. As for theory and mental aptitude—which would have been assessed through a written exam—I believe Apprentice rank is appropriate."
Kyle blinked. "I understand the mana grading... but why the high theory grade?"
Veylan smiled. "Because you're smart, plain and simple. You process information like a puzzle, noticing what others overlook. You're quite different when you truly use that head of yours."
He leaned back, eyes thoughtful. "I hope this challenge will bring out your true self."
Kyle was speechless.
My true self...? The hell does he mean by that?