The sky over Caerlin dawned gray and heavy. The morning light barely pierced the thick layer of clouds that blanketed the city like an oppressive shroud. There was a desolate air to the day, but the weather was perfect for a trial—neither warm nor cold, just a constant, indifferent breeze. A climate that offered no comfort nor discomfort. Neutral. Like the eyes of an executioner.
That day, the commoners knew something was different. No physical training, no classroom lessons. It was the day of the test. That's how it was called—vaguely, without explanation. No one really knew what awaited them.
They were assembled in front of the old hall of the western tower, a time-worn stone building. It carried the aura of a place forgotten by the years, and even the instructors kept their distance, as if afraid of disturbing something best left asleep. The air thickened the closer they came. No laughter, no whispers. Just footsteps dragging over damp stone.
They were called in groups of ten. They went in—but no one came out. The line grew shorter in complete silence. The tension was unbearable.
"What the hell is this?" Thom whispered, glancing at Cedric, who swallowed hard and didn't answer.
William stood at the entrance, beside Aurus. It was his first day as an assistant. A role that, for anyone else, might have felt like an opportunity. But for him, it was a burden—sharp as a blade against the neck. He handed out the exams, organized the groups, but he knew that wasn't the real test. The true trial began afterward.
Inside, each group was led to a windowless chamber. An arcane circle carved into the stone floor glowed faintly. Ten chairs arranged in a ring awaited them. As they sat, they were handed a written test.
"No talking. Read and answer. Time is limited," William instructed before stepping back.
After ten minutes of tense silence, Aurus would begin murmuring an incantation in an unknown tongue. His voice was soft, like wind slipping into one's ears and soul. And then… it happened.
Some screamed. Others turned pale. A few sat frozen, wide-eyed and sweating. And some—nothing. Just darkness. Emptiness. But those who saw something—shapes, colors, distorted memories, cryptic symbols—had unknowingly crossed a threshold.
Outside, those who exited stumbled. Some vomited. Others cried silently. A few couldn't speak at all. And some emerged calm, their eyes gleaming with something strange. No one explained a thing. They were simply sent to the next room.
The second trial was different: logic puzzles, deduction, seemingly unsolvable riddles, symbols in dead languages, questions without obvious answers. Only those who had shown a strong reaction in the previous test were summoned. It wasn't just about knowing—it was about interpreting the unknown.
Night fell like a sentence. Everyone was summoned to the central courtyard, where a single fire crackled in silence. Aurus stood like a granite statue before them. Jayce and Anthon watched from the sidelines, silent.
"Listen closely," Aurus began, his voice heavy with authority. "The evaluation has concluded. Only seven individuals have successfully passed the full process."
The silence was deafening.
"William Rosehart. Lia. Elenore. Kaela. Sylvie. Freya. Maren."
The names rang out like funeral bells for the rest. William's eleven companions bowed their heads. Thom, Dixon, Cedric… all knew there would be no second chances.
"All others will be admitted as knight candidates without elevated aspirations," Aurus continued, cold as ever. "An honorable distinction, but not an exceptional one. The world does not reward mediocrity. Be grateful to have seen the edge of your path. As for those chosen as assistants, you will be notified within the week."
Jayce watched with his arms crossed. Anthon looked frustrated—perhaps with himself. He said nothing.
"From this moment on, the chosen will undergo a completely different training," Aurus announced. "Your lives have changed. Prepare yourselves."
The seven selected were separated immediately. There were no hugs, no words. William met the eyes of his former friends, and in that silent glance, they understood—this was farewell.
Jayce led the group of eleven down a different path, while Aurus guided the chosen seven.
Dixon walked with his head down. Cedric looked more serious than ever. No one wanted to speak—until Jayce broke the silence with an unexpected laugh.
"I know how you feel. Like you've been left behind. Like this might be the last time you can look at them as equals."
The eleven looked up, surprised.
"I knew it," he smirked. "Listen—before, I couldn't talk about this. But now we're knights. Yes, they'll be treated like nobles, and we like soldiers. That's just how it is. But let me tell you something— a Great Knight can look any spellcaster in the eye. Can even cut one in half if they dare talk down to him. Respect isn't given. It's taken—earned through strength."
His words lifted the gloom, if only slightly. Not quite comfort—but a promise: they could still rise.
Meanwhile, the seven chosen ones crossed the academy's outer limits, following Aurus into the heart of Caerlin. After a short carriage ride, they arrived in a restricted zone surrounded by tall white walls and magical lanterns glowing like small suns.
There stood a three-story mansion, elegant and radiant, with stained-glass windows casting colorful shapes onto the marble floor. A central fountain featured the statue of a winged woman, and enchanted vines crawled over the pillars as if alive.
William and the six girls stepped down, awestruck. Each was assigned a private room—furnished with plush beds, oak desks with enchanted lamps, and wardrobes that opened with a spoken word.
The common areas included a library filled with thousands of volumes, a private dining hall with exclusive service, and a small enchanted theater that projected historical illusions.
"This will be your home for now," Aurus said. "Here you will live, train, and learn what no one else can teach. You are not here by chance. You are here because the world tried to break you… and you survived."
William stood in the doorway of his new room, his hand resting on the polished wood. He had left behind his friends, his old rank, even his name in a sense.
Now, he was something else.
And before him, the door to an unknown world had just opened.