Haeryn stepped forward as her name was called, the sound of her shoes echoing lightly against the marble floor.
The line of Eshari behind her shifted, eyes following her as she made her way toward the platform.
Even among so many faces, she stood out—the faint glimmer of her golden hair catching the light from the orb above.
It moved like strands of sunlight as she walked, and that alone was enough to draw whispers.
"...Verkinasen… golden hair!" someone murmured in awe.
"...Royalty? No… she is not an elf!" another replied, their tone uncertain but impressed.
The elves, in particular, seemed captivated.
Their kind rarely praised outsiders, yet they could not help but stare.
Even Prince Eredyn, who had been speaking quietly with his guards, paused mid-sentence when his eyes caught the gleam of her hair.
His gaze lingered for a moment, a flicker of curiosity breaking through his usual composed expression.
The elder smiled faintly as Haeryn approached, his staff humming with restrained power.
"Welcome to Vrynn, Eshari," he said, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment.
His other hand already shimmered with light as he prepared the next test.
Haeryn nodded respectfully and lowered herself to one knee, just as the others had before her.
The elder then extended his glowing hand and placed it gently upon her forehead.
The contact was brief—soft, but charged with energy that rippled through the air like a quiet pulse.
Then,
the orb above began to spin faster.
*tshhhhhh!
Its glow intensified, shifting from pale gold to radiant brilliance.
The hum in the air deepened until the orb flared—a bright, pure golden light,
the same color that had surrounded the orb when the elder revealed his power.
"Hoho! An S-Class!" the elder exclaimed, his tone filled with delight.
His laughter carried across the plaza, rich and proud.
The crowd stirred instantly.
Nobles who had grown tired of the endless tests suddenly straightened in their seats, eyes wide and alert.
Their whispers turned sharp and hungry.
"...An S-Class, he said?"
"...Another one!"
"...We must speak with her after this ends—before the others make their move!"
Within moments, the mood of the gathering shifted again.
The once-passive audience was now alive with interest and calculation.
Every noble present saw it clearly—this woman was not just another Eshari.
She was potential, status, and opportunity wrapped in a single name.
Haeryn, still kneeling, slowly opened her eyes as the light faded.
She could feel the stares pressing against her from all sides, but she stayed calm, composed, and quiet.
Whatever this new world had in store for her, it had just begun.
Without wasting any more time, Haeryn descended the marble steps, the faint echo of her footsteps carrying through the plaza.
The golden crystal she had received shimmered faintly in her hand, casting a warm reflection across her face.
A small, almost proud smile tugged at her lips as her eyes found Razan standing at the base of the stairs, waiting for her with his usual calm look.
When she reached him, Razan shifted his shoulders, loosening the weight of the two large bags slung over his back.
*thud… *thud…
He let them drop gently to the ground with a solid thud, the sound echoing faintly over the now quieter crowd.
"Watch over the bags for a while," he said, voice steady as he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves.
"Gotcha," Haeryn replied without hesitation, giving him a nod before stepping back beside the bags.
She clasped the crystal tightly in her hand, watching him take his place next in line.
"Next up, the man with dark hair!" the elder announced loudly, his staff glowing faintly as his eyes settled on Razan, who was already stepping toward the base of the stairs.
Razan took a slow breath, the noise of the crowd fading into the background as he started to ascend the steps.
The golden light of the orb above painted his form in shades of bronze, but compared to the others before him, there was nothing outwardly remarkable about him—no glowing marks, no royal aura, no sign of divine favor.
Just a young man with dark hair and a quiet, steady look in his eyes.
Several Eshari glanced his way but quickly turned their attention elsewhere, assuming he would be another ordinary case.
All except one.
A Dwarf standing among the crowd suddenly froze.
His eyes widened in disbelief as they locked onto Razan, and his grip on his war hammer tightened until the metal creaked.
"Ferahr…!" he gasped, voice trembling with awe.
"I… I have finally found him!" the dwarf whispered, his voice rising as emotion overtook him.
"The warrior from the old scriptures!"
A few nearby turned to him in confusion, while others frowned, uncertain of what he meant.
But the Dwarf's eyes never left Razan, the old tales flashing in his mind—the stories of a warrior lost to time, a bringer of chaos and balance foretold to return when the worlds converged once again.
Razan climbed the last few steps until he finally stood before the elder, his tall figure casting a faint shadow over the old man.
The elder looked up at him and let out a soft laugh, his voice echoing lightly across the platform.
"Hoho! Another tall one!" the elder said with amusement, his wrinkled face forming a warm smile.
"If you so please, kneel, my child…"
Without hesitation, Razan lowered himself, one knee pressing against the polished stone floor.
His dark hair shifted slightly as the light from the orb above reflected off its strands, and his calm expression didn't waver.
The elder lifted his hand, his staff dimming as his palm began to glow.
Slowly, he reached forward until his hand made contact with Razan's forehead.
For a moment,
…
everything was silent.
…
The glow pulsed faintly—then stronger—and suddenly the elder's brows furrowed.
He flinched, his hand trembling slightly as if struck by a sudden wave of resistance.
Something stirred beneath his touch…
something that isn't the usual feeling he felt when contacting the essence of Vyrnn within an Eshari..
It wasn't of Vrynn—
it was something else entirely.
The elder's eyes widened, confusion flashing across his face for the briefest moment before he steadied his breathing and tried to maintain composure.
He withdrew his hand slightly but didn't speak, continuing the process as if nothing had happened.
Then, the orb above began to react.
It spun slowly at first, faintly glowing, then accelerated with a low hum that rippled through the air.
Everyone present watched closely, the nobles leaning forward from their seats in curiosity.
The orb's color shifted, dimming from gold to white, then finally settling into a dull, murky gray—almost transparent, weak, and lifeless.
Gasps erupted from the crowd.
The sharp whispers followed immediately after.
"...Gray color…?"
"...That's an F-Class!"
"...Pathetic… not even worth noting."
"He's no better than a servant," one nobleman muttered with a scoff.
"Poor boy," another sighed mockingly, shaking her head.
Razan, still kneeling, kept his head low, his face unreadable.
The elder exhaled softly, looking almost regretful as he lowered his hand.
"An F-Class…" he murmured, disappointment clear in his tone.
"It is… an unfortunate result. I pray to Vrynn for your future journeys, child. May you still find your place under his light."
"Mhm. You don't need to," Razan said calmly, his tone flat but firm.
He stood up straight, dusted off his knee, and began descending the stairs without looking back.
Unlike the others before him, no crystal was given.
No congratulations, no cheers—only silence and pitying looks that followed him down the steps.
But Razan didn't seem to care.
His pace remained steady, his expression unmoved, as if the result meant nothing to him at all.
Haeryn stood waiting just beneath the steps, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as she watched Razan descend.
Her eyes darted toward the orb above for a moment, then back to him, her expression filled with worry.
"I-It's okay, Razan," she said quickly, her voice trembling slightly.
"I'll just share my supplies with you if they give me one! You don't have to—"
"You don't need to," Razan interrupted firmly, his tone calm but final as he reached for the two heavy bags resting at her feet.
He slung them over his shoulders in one smooth motion, tightening the straps.
"That's why I prepared, remember?"
Haeryn frowned, still unconvinced. "B-but—"
"Very well!" the elder's voice boomed suddenly, echoing across the entire hall and cutting through their conversation.
His staff glowed brightly as he raised it high above his head.
"The ceremony has now concluded! The Eshari are now recognized under the grace of Vrynn!"
The orb hovering above began to flicker, dimming slightly as he continued, "You are each granted one full month of free accommodation in any establishment you deem suitable! Simply show them the crystal I have given you!"
He then slammed his staff onto the ground with a sharp, echoing
*thud!
and the great orb of light above vanished in an instant—its glow fading into countless golden particles that drifted through the air before disappearing.
The elder lowered his staff and smiled faintly.
"You are all free to go wherever you see fit!" he declared one final time.
And just like that, the crowd broke into motion.
The Eshari—humans, elves, dwarves, and horned beings alike—began to pour out through the towering exits of the ceremonial hall.
The sound of footsteps, murmurs, and mixed emotions filled the air.
Outside, nobles waited eagerly with their guards, scanning the new arrivals like merchants sizing up rare goods.
Adventurers lingered with interest, while common folk whispered in awe.