The moment Schillian stepped into the room, chills could be felt down his spine. The air felt off.
The quiet room was filled with books lined on the walls. The books—they weren't on shelves—but rather, floating in the air, moving in a rhythm.
At the end of the room sat a man in a dark blue robe. His presence was calm, but there was power, unbeknownst to Schillian.
"This is the child, sir," said Alira, bowing down to the mage. Her partner Eamon followed. "We will be in touch when you need."
Schillian looked behind him as Alira left, leaving him alone with the head mage.
The man clapped his hands, and the door behind Schillian shut closed.
"You must be Schillian," the man said, folding his fingers beneath his chin. "Welcome."
The man pulled down his hood, revealing a blonde-haired man with pale skin and blue eyes. His smile was warm, yet something about it felt threatening.
Schillian nodded slowly.
"My name is Arshen, Head Mage of the Emberfall Regional Arcane Council," he continued. "Please, sit down."
Arshen snapped his fingers, and a table and sofa appeared with his magic. This caught Schillian's attention—he watched as aether dissipated into the room and then reformed into a solid table and sofa.
Schillian sat down. "Thank you, mister. Why do you seek me?"
"Alira said something about you... that you can use magic." He leaned forward. "How old are you?"
"Six years old, mister," Schillian replied.
Arshen laughed. "This is interesting!"
After a cup of tea, Arshen asked Schillian to follow him out of the office. Alira and Eamon followed from behind. As they walked through the halls, every mage they passed bowed to Arshen. Schillian could only be mesmerized by the sight.
Can I be like this someday? he thought.
They descended a winding staircase, deep beneath the Arcane Council's main hall. The corridor below was colder, lit by magical sconces that hummed with energy.
At the end of the path stood a chamber sealed by an archway of glimmering runes.
"This is the Aether Conduit," Arshen explained as the door opened with a low groan. "A crystal construct designed to react to pure Aether manipulation. It doesn't lie."
Schillian stepped in.
At the center of the chamber stood a tall, multifaceted crystal, suspended in the air by chains of light. Runes spiraled slowly around its surface like a living spell.
"You'll place your hand on the pedestal. Channel the Aether inside you—no need for form, just let it flow. The crystal will do the rest."
Schillian nodded. His hands were shaking. He stepped up to the pedestal, took a breath, and closed his eyes.
Flow… like the rivers I saw...
He reached inward and found that spark—the warm, glowing pulse he remembered from before.
And he let it go.
The moment his hand touched the pedestal, the crystal reacted.
It flared red. Then blue. Then green. Then—blinding white.
The runes spun wildly, lights danced across the chamber walls. A gust of wind burst outward, forcing Alira to raise a barrier around them.
Arshen's eyes went wide.
"This can't be…"
The crystal didn't just glow... it shifted. Its shape wavered like water. Symbols never seen before flashed across it, and for a moment, the entire chamber vibrated with an ancient, low hum.
Then… silence.
The light dimmed. The crystal stilled. The room returned to calm.
Schillian slumped backward, panting.
Arshen walked up to the crystal, studying it silently. "Multiple affinities. High flow capacity. Deep resonance." He looked over his shoulder. "That's not just rare. That's… quite amazing, actually."
Alira looked equally stunned. "What does it mean?"
Arshen turned to Schillian.
"It means the boy may have the potential to become one of the most powerful mages of this age. Or… a target for everyone who wants that power for themselves."