The first magic came with the full moon. Inspiration - or imagination - was born from the depths of the midnight sky, and the blossoms of magic sprouted from both the will of the Saviour's soul, and the poetry of creation; the mystic runes of history.
- Tome ofEvermore, Book III, Chapter I
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[Avuna ('Old Town'), Nethel, 230 million units from Terra. 502010.]
Dawn shone upon a lonely planet, alone in a vast system of rock and dust, illuminated with the warm light of two dancing stars. Thin cloud, silvery and wispy, was scattered across the red and oranges and purples of the morning sky, floating palely across the sunrise. Skyscrapers were sprinkled abundantly across the surface of the globe, crammed into countless, ring-like megacities. With the commercialisation of aerial transport technology, and the infinite potential of magic, there were no more roads, and no more ground. A maze of sim-steel and light-glass was all that remained as a semblance of the old structure of Terra, a planet lost to time. These countless buildings, fondly and robotically erected, housed billions of people, millions of businesses, from planetary food service to galactic enterprises, schools, churches, theatres, leisure centres. The shining blocks of metal were a brand of mankind upon the planet, declaring their bustling energy, and the indomitable effort of the people blessed by magic.
Within the core of one of these great cities, the 'Old Town' Avuna, raged a never-ending party, with flashing lights and blaring music and infinite food and drink, as a place of freedom for the joyful, and a source of hope for the poor. Not far from the core of Old Town, a block of cramped apartments was squeezed between the shops and schools. These were the well-known free houses, where the less fortunate on the planet, from orphans to the sick to the lazy could stay until they received formal employment and a liveable salary. They contained a 15-metre long and wide 'living space', with a kitchen, water supply, lighting, floored with planks of erbor - a cheap simulation of living wood - and most importantly, heating. Magic use was heavily restricted within the free houses to avoid damages to the living spaces, and the use of psychoactive substances, the consumption of alcohol, and smoking were all forbidden to encourage healthy lifestyles, despite the proximity of the endless revelry, infested with almost every drug and drink known to the human world. As a result, the houses were mostly populated by addicts, intoxicated and unstable, trapped in an eternal cycle of highs and lows.
This was the core of Old Town.
Within the second column of free houses, most families lived close to one another in a tight-knit community. There was no hate, and no discrimination; there was only love and cooperation. The people there were usually desperately poor, working hard to support their children to improve their lifestyle, and everyone would help their neighbours out when needed, whether it be with food, babysitting, or advice.
However, there was one space in the second column, at the very bottom, where one child lived, alone. He was friendly, but reclusive, rarely emerging from his room except to visit the communal library on the block next to him, and to attend the free academy a little further away. He was known to reliably provide spare food to the other residents when needed, but no children were sent his way for company, and no-one dared to venture to his space to talk. He was, in all cases, an enigma.
In the lowest room of the second column of the free houses at the core of the Old Town, a long-limbed boy lay in the middle of the floor, hand covering his eyes, clad in a pair of sleek metal glasses. His black hair, cut plainly and shortly, tightly curled, rested messily on his head, coiled like tiny springs. A thick black hoodie covered his torso, a khaki-coloured shirt peeking through the underside, and his raggedy grey jeans crumpled at the bend of his knees, a little more than fashionably torn, held by a jet-black belt studded with blunt metal spikes. His bare feet hung in the air, one leg crossed onto his knee, calloused and rough. The boy looked to be sleeping, steadily breathing, except for the shimmer of his body's outline, blurry and grey, chaotically vibrating from side to side. His features turned regularly pale and vague as his still body shivered into and out of existence in a disturbing fashion for a few seconds, and then he inhaled suddenly, stabilising, and threw his hand from his eyes, revealing two clear hazel irises, the left eye bloodshot and surrounded by almost unnoticeable scarring. Staring into his eyes was like looking into a void, empty and emotionless, and his thin, youthful face revealed nothing of the thoughts bustling inside of his head, and none of the excitement or emotion expected of a fourteen-year-old child.
The child got up from the floor, standing slowly, and sighed in reproach, stretching his arms before him and cracking his knuckles. At his hip, a dark leatherbound book, clasped tightly with steel fastenings, pages stained the grey-green of decaying bones, with the image of a screaming skull emblazoned on the cover with black metal, was revealed, releasing an aura of oppression and unease.
"Time to become a mage," Torna muttered, striding to the door of the space, and stepping out into the world.
Or more accurately, the stairwells of the housing block.
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Torna exhaled, closing his eyes as he rested in a padded chair. The metro, commonly known as 'the loop', sped through the entertainment block of Old Town, music ebbing and fading into and out of earshot as they passed the numerous revellers within the core. Near this part of the city, the inside resembled the old piping systems used in the fusion reactors, connected via small tunnels through which the loop would frequently run, usually full to the brim with people. But today was different.
It was the day of the Biennial Cycle of Magic Exams, offering everyone above sufficient fitness levels and of reasonable mental capacity the opportunity to take the test to become a licensed mage. Those who were authorised with the arrangement of spells up to Stage 2 were called 'awakened' mages, and those who were authorised with the arrangement of arrays - which produced miraculous effects on par with Stage 3 spells - were called 'sages'. Stage 1 spells, which could only produce minute effects with metabolic energy at the level of the body's magic potential, were only authorised to 'static' mages, such as Torna, who attended the meticulously named 'Avuna Static Academy'. To use spells above Stage 1, the body's magic potential would have to be significantly increased to cope with the energy scaling.
For instance, the common Stage 1 spell 'Air Step' would allow the user to push off the air to propel themselves. Using 'Air Step' 10 times within 5 minutes would cause the user to pass out, and 15 times would exceed their body's magic potential, causing death and in most cases, spontaneous magic explosion from unstable latent magic energy.
However, the simplest Stage 2 spell 'Teleport', allowing the user to rapidly transfer their body up to 50 metres in space at a time, would not only instantly kill a static user, but it would also 100% of the time result in spontaneous magic explosion, with much greater force than with a Stage 1 spell.
While magic seemed to be, and theoretically was, an all-powerful source of power, it still obeyed the laws of physics; energy could not be created, and energy could not be destroyed. All energy used in the execution of a spell would be drawn from the user or a source of sufficient energy, and overloading the body with excess energy would undeniably result in, at best, severe injury.
For this reason, planets would usually provide the successful participants of the exams with an energy-rich environment, providing them with a massive source of power, in which they could train their bodies appropriately to meet the demands of their power, widening their spirit channels, through which magic could be conducted, and refining their spirit-mind, which facilitated the projection of energy.
However, the power available to an awakened mage would inevitably have incredible potential for destruction. Offensive Stage 2 spells such as 'Hurricane Pillar' could produce effects powerful enough to level towns, or even a small city, and so the test required for the awakened license was equally scaled, almost always involving lethal danger, a terrible environment, and nigh-impossible tasks to complete.
Torna yawned, stretching his arms, and looked around the carriage of his section of the loop.
Only a few people were occupying the carriage today; three around his age, and a couple slightly older, and another seemingly middle-aged. They all wore casual clothing, similar to himself, with the exception of one of the younger people; namely, a girl with a high blonde ponytail, clad in a light grey, one-piece bodysuit, plated with clearly enchanted steel, shimmering in the soft blue lights of the loop tunnels, and studded with an emblem of a sun on the shoulders. And on her back, a solemn greatsword, its handle inlaid with some sort of glowing gemstone, was sheathed, emanating a heavy, oppressive aura.
"Ravon Myler, great-granddaughter of one of Avuna's city council. That suit must be one of the new strength enhancers. I thought they were stuck at the prototype stage? And that greatsword...it must be a magical item. It seems to be at least Tier 2..." Torna thought grimly, a dark look flickering across his face. The other residents of the carriage seemed to take no notice of the armour-clad girl, a pretty, yet flat expression plastered across her face, free of scarring. Torna unconsciously raised a hand, stroking the rough tissue around his eye, before shaking his head, and sighing despondently, inspecting the other people with his peripheral vision.
A few seats to his right, a tanned, handsome boy, stocky and strong-looking, reclined, his neck burdened by half a dozen necklaces and pendants with varying colours and different gemstones, moulded into the shapes of animals. He fiddled with the thin string of a dark blue eyepatch, contrasting wildly with his hair, the colour of dry grass, and his deep green eyes.
"Charm user, Emon Shakkei. Second son of the 'Great Alchemist', Sansui Shakkei, a Stage 4 'sorcerer'," Torna's eyes gleamed in recognition. Just as he turned to observe the third person, he felt the loop slow to a halt with a gentle hiss.
[Destination reached: Avuna Static Academy. Please vacate the carriage for registration.]
As everyone rose to their feet, Torna looked curiously at the sun symbol branded on the shoulder of her armour suit, before shaking his head and moodily shoving his hands into his jean pockets.
Torna knew that every initial examination was conducted against an 'adversary'; an opponent with skills directly opposing the initial conductor. This 'adversary' would already have completed their assessment, and would usually be between 25 and 30% complete in their advancement to awakened status.
However, the main difference between an 'adversary' and a normal contestant was not the power gap.
The main difference was the grade of items and the level of spells that the adversary, with greatly superior magic potential, could use against the contestant.
And Torna had an inkling that this girl, clad in a flawless grey bodysuit, marked with the sign of the sun, had already been selected as his adversary.
Sighing again in reproach, he shook out his arms, taking a deep breath of cool, filtered air. He stared at the exit to the loop - a dull, metallic square resembling a door, which also doubled as the entrance of Avuna Static Academy. Torna smiled, striding towards the doors of the academy, flinging them open, and entering the building.
"Power..." he mumbled gleefully.