Magical Aptitude
SS = Super Special
S = Special
A = Excellent
B = Good
The air inside the classroom was charged—not with elemental force, but with curiosity. A hundred pairs of eyes stared ahead, breaths held, spines straightened. Even those who moments ago had dared to whisper now sat like carved stone.
Xander leaned forward in his seat, his dark brows slightly furrowed, eyes fixed on Magus Santra as though every word might unlock something hidden within him. He didn't understand this place—not fully—but something in his bones told him it mattered more than anything that came before.
Santra allowed the silence to deepen before she spoke again.
"Let us move into the main business of today," she said with precision. "Your gifts."
A flicker of excitement ran through the chamber like static through silk.
"But before we can speak of what you possess, you must understand what it is. So let me ask you this: What is magic?"
She let the question hang for a moment, watching as no one dared answer.
"Magic," she said at last, "is the raw intent of the cosmos—shaped through thought, will, and resonance. It is the invisible thread that binds every breath, every star, every grain of dust between worlds. It exists in all things, but only a rare few can touch it, bend it… command it."
A soft wave of shimmering light spiraled behind her, forming into abstract shapes—shards of color, sound, and sensation.
"Elemental magic," she continued, "is the first and most ancient form. It was born as early as time itself, woven into existence by the primeval Source. Legends say the Source fractured into nine primal streams—each becoming a living expression of nature, order, and chaos."
The swirling shapes behind her began to take form—elemental sigils hovering like stars above each other.
"These ten elements form the foundation of all known magic: Earth, Plant, Water, Wind, Metal, Fire, Lightning, Sound, Darkness, and Time."
She gestured to each glowing symbol in turn, and as she did, they expanded, shimmering with detail.
Wind: "This element governs air, breath, and all gaseous matter. A wind mage can crush lungs or carry whispers for miles."
Earth: "This is the element of solid matter. Rock, soil, and crystal bend to it—but so too does metal, and even plant life find root in its influence."
Fire: "The most volatile. It commands heat, combustion, even pure destructive force."
Water: "The shaping of rivers, oceans, mist, and ice. A patient but powerful element."
Metal: "Metal magic is precision incarnate. It allows the control of refined materials—blades, armor, constructs. Some say it is Earth's sharper twin."
Lightning: "Born of both fire and air. A strike of this element can end a battle in the blink of an eye. Pure, volatile energy."
Sound: "Sound mages manipulate vibrations. They can shatter bones, disrupt spells, or create silence so complete it unravels thought."
Plant: "Nature's bloodline. Those attuned to it are gifted in healing, alchemy, or growth. They can command vines, breed toxins, or even restore what is lost."
Darkness: "A controversial force. It shapes shadows, cloaks thoughts, and touches death. Some say it whispers with the voices of the dead. Many fear it—few master it."
Time: "The rarest of all. It allows the manipulation of the very flow of existence—slowing, speeding, pausing… and perhaps, rewinding. But beware: time exacts a price."
Magus Santra's hand lowered. The lights faded slowly, leaving behind a soft hum of energy.
"These elements exist in balance. Some of you may carry one. Others, two. Very, very few—more. But each affinity comes with consequence. Power is not free."
Xander's eyes remained fixed on her. He hadn't moved. Not even blinked. Something about her words echoed within him—deeper than comprehension.
He barely noticed how many others leaned in just like him. The classroom, vast and elegant, was utterly silent. Not a breath was wasted.
Santra's voice lowered slightly.
"In due time, your aptitude will be tested—and you will be marked. Whether you are Good, Excellent, Special… or something far more rare."
She turned her back to the class for a moment, facing the high mural behind her—depicting a being crowned in light and shadow, arms stretched between stars.
"And when that time comes," she whispered, "you will know what the Veil truly saw in you."
Magus Santra turned, lifting one hand.
From the starlit folds of her robe, she slipped a silver ring from her finger and tapped it once against her palm. A ripple of space shimmered before her, and from that ripple emerged a floating orb—smooth, glassy, and shifting with galaxies within its core.
"This," she said, "is an Affinitas Orb. An ancient device, created long before most of your worlds knew the word 'magic.' It reveals not your strength, but your nature. The element you were born to touch."
Gasps spread through the room. The orb pulsed gently, responding to the gathered anticipation.
"But before we begin," Santra continued, "a formality."
She turned to face the class fully now.
"This is Class Seven. Your registration numbers, all of you, range from 00700 to 00799. Memorize it. Your identity, from this point onward, is not just your name—but your mark."
Then her eyes sharpened.
"Now—open your palms."
The students complied.
Santra tapped the orb once.
A radiant wave spread from it like a pulse of thunderless lightning, rippling through the air. Instantly, a fine glowing line traced itself onto every student's palm—an intricate rune, soft yet luminous, warm to the touch.
"This," Santra said, "is the mark of Magus College."
She began pacing, slowly, like a general before her troops.
"It allows you to understand every registered language spoken in the Magus world. In fact…" she allowed herself a slight smirk, "you may be amazed to learn that I've been using a high-layer incantation to speak to you this entire time. Each of you has been hearing it in your own tongue."
The room stirred.
"But you won't need that spell anymore," she added. "Because this mark will now allow you to comprehend all languages of the multiverse."
Murmurs turned to wide eyes, some students lifting their palms higher, as if trying to see the knowledge etched within.
"Now," she said, lowering her tone again. "All you have to do is connect your focus with the rune on your palm."
A beat passed. Then a quiet gasp broke the silence.
Suddenly, students began stiffening in their seats, eyes flickering as information surged into their minds—names, potential, latent strengths, elemental leanings, biological readings, languages known and forgotten. Some trembled. Others grinned wide.
But just before anyone could explore further—
"Not yet," Santra's voice rang out, cutting through the flurry of minds. "We'll examine your stats later."
"Time and Darkness are the rarest of all affinities. If your aura reveals either... know that your path may lead through storms the rest of the cosmos has never known."
The class fell utterly silent, the weight of the moment hanging heavy.
Even Xander, who had remained composed until now, leaned forward, eyes narrowed, jaw set. His attention was unwavering.
The orb hovered, waiting.
Magus Santra turned toward the first row, her expression unreadable.
She raised the orb again.
"Now… is the moment of truth."
A hush fell again, heavier than before.
"It's time to check your elemental affinity. One by one, your auras will resonate with this orb—and display a color. Each color represents one of the ten primal elements."
[Earth – Deep Brown]
[Plant – Leafy Green]
[Water – Cerulean Blue]
[Wind – Sky White]
[Metal – Silver]
[Fire – Crimson Red]
[Lightning – Electric Yellow]
[Sound – Violet]
[Darkness – Obsidian Black]
[Time – Golden Amber]
"Let the aptitude test begins"