The ancient marble walls of the Royal Academy exuded an almost sentient aura. Magic hung in the air like a faint mist, imbued within every stone pillar, every polished floor, every banner embroidered with the imperial crest. Kaelian, clad in the gray robes of a novice, walked silently through the winding corridor leading to the Upper Magical Laboratory.
The silence was broken only by the soft shuffle of footsteps and the nervous rustling of fabric. Every student knew what awaited them — the Control Test. Not a test of raw power, but a trial of precision: the ability to channel magic without losing control, to sculpt and temper raw energy with finesse. The place where noble heirs either dazzled or fell in disgrace.
Kaeilan had never formally practiced magic before. Every spark he had summoned was born in secret — in the shadows of hidden libraries or beneath the cover of night. He had no academic foundation, no precedents to lean on. Only memories from another world, and the survival instincts of a reborn strategist.
"Kaelian d'Estragon, step forward," came the firm voice.
He advanced beneath the barely concealed stares — curiosity, scorn, disbelief. Théor stood in the corner, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. He was waiting for Kaelian's first mistake.
In the center of the circular chamber stood a towering crystal column, three meters high, encrusted with shifting glyphs. At its apex hovered a translucent orb, reacting to the magic channeled into the column. The more stable and refined the magic, the more the orb's color shifted—from pale gray, signaling failure, to pure azure, indicating mastery.
"Focus and channel your magical flow through the column," intoned Master Elgorn dryly. His white beard trembled slightly with amusement. "And please, no explosions."
Kaeilan placed his palm on the stone base. He closed his eyes.
Breathe. Calculate. Stabilize.
He envisioned his chaotic magical network — dense, tangled, but compressed like a wound spring. This time, he forced the energy to flow in a steady current, like a river confined between firm banks. He shaped it, controlled its tension, adjusted its temperature.
The orb pulsed. First white. Then silver. Then light blue.
Whispers spread throughout the chamber.
"That… can't be real."
"He's never had formal training…"
"The bastard?"
Kaeilan opened his eyes. The orb glowed with a steady celestial blue. Not the deep azure of some noble prodigies, but a refined tone surpassing most students.
Master Elgorn leaned forward, intrigued. "An almost perfect channeling… without full theoretical training. Fascinating."
Théor ground his teeth. Kaelian had just committed a greater offense than mere success — he had shattered expectations.
****
After the test, students were led to magical analysis chambers. Enchanted scrolls and sensory instruments filled the rooms, watched over by assistants in black robes.
Kaeilan was taken aside. An isolated chamber. Three floating candles. A pentacle on the floor. And in the center: an aether mirror designed to read the elemental affinities buried deep within one's soul.
"Sit. Let your magic flow into the mirror's surface. It will reveal your dominant magical elements," the assistant explained in a monotone.
Kaeilan obeyed. He extended his hand. A chill ran down his spine. The mirror rippled and projected shifting images.
A black crow. A violet flame. A broken circle.
The assistant paled, hastily scribbled notes, then slipped out without a word.
They have seen forbidden magic, or at least its echo.
Kaeilan had suspected his midnight experiments left traces. He stared into the mirror. The images faded.
He smiled coldly. "Good. Let them start fearing me."
****
Hours later, in Master Elgorn's study, an impromptu meeting took place.
"The boy channels energy beyond the average, and his affinities are... disturbing. Crow. Violet flame. Broken circle. These suggest ancient magic."
An older professor winced. "Or necromancy. Or worse… archmagecraft."
Elgorn nodded slowly. "I want him in my personal class. I want to watch him closely."
****
Kaeilan returned to his quarters late that evening and found Lyssa waiting in the shadowed courtyard.
"You're alive. That's an accomplishment here," she said with a half-smile.
He sat beside her. Stars flickered above the Academy, but the chill bit deep.
"They looked at me like a monster… or a curiosity."
Lyssa laid a hand on his arm. "So what? This world respects only anomalies. Be one of them."
Kaeilan met her gaze. There was disarming sincerity there, but he couldn't afford trust. Not yet.
****
The next day, the Academy announced that five students had been handpicked for the Advanced Circle under Master Elgorn — a secretive class for those who could "change the rules rather than suffer them."
Kaeilan topped the list.
Alongside him, a northern noble, an elemental prodigy… and Théor.
The royal half-brother had not forgiven the humiliation. He masked rage with a smooth smile, but Kaeilan felt it: the cold war had begun.
****
The first Elgorn lesson took place in an underground chamber, sealed by anti-espionage wards. He studied the group with sharp eyes.
"You were chosen not because you are strong... but because you are dangerous. Potentially uncontrollable. I will train you to wield this power—not to save the kingdom, but so that the kingdom won't have to destroy you."
Kaeilan sensed the meaning beneath the words. You are a weapon. I want to see if I can wield you... or if I must break you.
Elgorn held up a dark sphere. "This is the Obscura Focus. It extracts the instinctive form of your magic. Those who cannot control what the crystal reveals will be expelled."
One by one, students touched the Obscura. Vague, often harmless forms emerged.
When Kaeilan laid his hand on it, the chamber seemed to contract. The crystal darkened, then breathed a black mist. A fiery key appeared, slowly turning.
Elgorn frowned. "A key. Of fire. And chains."
Kaeilan understood instantly. They see me as an unlocker. A breaker of seals. A disruptor.
****
After class, Théor confronted him.
"You really think your little commoner tricks will let you surpass us?"
Kaeilan met his eyes, calm. "It's not the tricks that matter. It's how you use them to bend the rules."
Théor stepped forward. "You won't last."
Kaeilan leaned in close. "Maybe not. But every day I'm alive is a slap to your face."
****
Night fell, and Kaeilan returned to the Mirror Room. He had hidden a listening stone, a subtle artifact few would notice. Through it, he overheard conversations between the masters.
And he heard his name.
Especially a phrase from Elgorn himself:
"This boy… if he learns to channel that key, he could open doors sealed for a thousand years. Doors that must never be reopened."
Kaeilan smiled in the shadows.
Then let us train the hand that will hold the key… and choose the right locks to break.
****
To be continued in Chapter 28 – Analysis of Rivals and Allies
_____________________