The vast outdoor courtyard of the High Temple of Ostina was an expanse of polished white marble, ascended by three grand, shallow steps that glittered under the sun. The space was so immense that the sound of footsteps barely rose above a soft, perpetual hush. Tall, slender columns of pristine limestone lined the perimeter, and at the very center stood a circular platform of white stone — the Sanctum of First Light, where the ceremony of awakening would kick off.
Hundreds of unawakened stood shoulder to shoulder, a sea of nervous faces and restless eyes. The scent of incense hung thick in the air, carrying a faint metallic undertone — the scent of pure mana.
Klein and Theodric stood among them, both near the back rows. Klein's crimson hair stood out sharply among the muted tones of the crowd, drawing subtle glances, though his own gaze remained fixed on the marble steps before them.
A distant hum filled the air. Then —
From the archway at the front, acolytes began to descend.
Each one was draped in a robe of pure white, trimmed with faint gold embroidery that shimmered like living light. Their steps were synchronized, deliberate — the quiet rhythm of ceremony. In their hands, they each carried an orb — smooth, perfectly spherical, and faintly transparent, pulsing with a dim, internal glow.
As they approached the center of the hall, the hum deepened — a low vibration that seemed to stir the very air around them.
One of the acolytes — a tall, pale woman with hair the color of frost stepped forward and raised her voice.
"The Crystal — a gift of the Light itself. Through it, mana flows and reveals the light that slumbers within all beings."
The explanation was one every person in the hall knew, but the solemn repetition carried a weight of ancient tradition.
These crystal spheres would channel pure ambient mana into the body of the unawakened. The process was simple in structure, yet divine in essence, as the raw mana would flow through dormant meridians, testing their resilience and depth.
If the meridians were weak, the crystal's light would flicker softly — dim, almost gray.
If they were average, it would glow steadily — a calm blue.
And if the person possessed remarkable latent potential, the sphere would blaze brilliantly, sending blue lightning arcing across their body like living veins of light.
The more intense the lightning, the greater the gift of potential.
....
"...So that's how it works," Theodric murmured beside Klein, crossing his arms. "Don't look so nervous. Only one in a hundred ever fail the process, and those are usually people who try to fight it."
Klein tilted his head slightly. "Fight it?"
Theodric nodded, still watching the acolytes. "Yeah. They tense up, try to control the flow of mana. Big mistake. The more you resist, the harsher the backlash. Best to just breathe and let it happen."
He grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Honestly, the real trial comes after this."
Klein raised a brow. "After?"
"The entrance exams," Theodric said with a sigh, as if already feeling the exhaustion. "For the Avalorian School of Arcane Blades. That's where the true warriors of Avalor are forged. Knights, battlemages, spellblades — anyone serious about the path of strength goes there. But the failure rate…"
He held up three fingers.
"Seventy-five percent."
Klein blinked. "That high?"
"Mm. They weed out the weak early. If you pass, though, you're basically guaranteed a place under any noble banner. Even the king's army recruits from there."
Klein leaned slightly against a marble pillar, arms folded. "You planning to enter?"
"Of course," Theodric said without hesitation. "The Aldencrest family expects no less. Every son of our line joins the military, and every one of us makes it at least to second year." He smiled faintly, though his eyes softened. "I intend to surpass them. Maybe even reach Lucien Valemont's level one day."
At that, Klein couldn't help a quiet smirk. "Ambitious."
"Better than being aimless."
Klein shrugged lightly. "Fair point."
Theodric chuckled. "And you? Planning to apply?"
Klein thought for a moment, gaze drifting to the gleaming crystal orbs ahead. "...If Lucien trained there, maybe I will."
"Good answer," Theodric said approvingly.
....
One by one, the ceremony began.
The first in line: a nervous-looking noble girl — stepped forward, guided by an acolyte. She placed her trembling hands on the crystal sphere.
There was a pause — then the faintest shimmer of light pulsed within. A soft, pale blue glow spread slowly through the crystal, and thin streaks of blue energy crackled lightly along her arms before fading.
"Average resonance," the acolyte announced.
The girl exhaled shakily, bowed, and stepped aside.
The next candidate stepped up, a broad-shouldered commoner. His orb flared a little brighter, sparks flickering briefly before subsiding.
"Mildly above average resonance."
Cheers broke out from the back — likely his family.
Then came the next, and the next.
The hall filled with the hum of mana, flashes of light dancing across the gathered crowd as each crystal came alive in turn. Some glowed faintly — others, not at all. Most were average.
Then it was Theodric's turn.
He rolled his shoulders once and looked at Klein. "Watch and learn. The all crowd going to be jealous."
Klein crossed his arms. "Try not to fry yourself."
"Ha. As if."
Theodric approached the acolyte, laying his palms gently on the crystal.
A beat of silence. Then—
Fwoom.
A deep blue glow erupted inside the orb, steady and strong, like a contained flame. Faint veins of lightning arced across Theodric's forearms, tracing elegant lines before dissipating. The light held for several seconds before dimming slowly.
"Medium resonance," the acolyte intoned.
A ripple of applause came from a few nearby observers. Theodric stepped back, looking mildly disappointed but hiding it under a grin.
"Not bad," Klein said.
"Not great either," Theodric replied, forcing a chuckle. "Guess I'll have to actually study now. Your turn, Red."
Klein sighed softly. "You're really sticking with that nickname?"
"Until something better comes up," Theodric said with a shrug.
Klein was about to retort, but then he noticed one of the acolytes — a young woman with bright green eyes — approaching him. In her gloved hands, she carried a crystal sphere just like the others, its faint light pulsing like a quiet heartbeat.
She stopped before him and bowed slightly.
"Please step forward," she said gently. "Place both hands upon the Crystal and relax your breathing."
The hum in the hall seemed to fade away for a moment.
Dozens of eyes subtly turned toward Klein, the crimson-haired boy who had arrived in Lucien Valemont's carriage.
Even Theodric leaned forward slightly, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
Klein glanced once at the crystal, then at the acolyte.
'Paros,' he murmured silently, 'any advice?'
"Try not to explode.'
'...That's comforting.'
'You're welcome.'
Klein exhaled slowly and stepped toward the sphere.
The faint light of the crystal reflected in his eyes — soft, silent, waiting.
He reached out, fingers brushing the cool surface —
And placed his palms firmly on the crystal.