The induction hall of the Archive was larger than any cathedral. Light streamed from veins running across the ceiling, cascading like liquid gold through the glass floor. The recruits stood in clusters—some whispering, others staring in awe at the immense structure that pulsed with life. A symbol hung above the dais: the seven-pointed crest of the Crowns, each point glowing a different hue.
Deog tugged on Connor's sleeve. "See that? The core sigil is active. That means they're scanning every Aether frequency in this room."
Connor arched an eyebrow. "You say that like it's normal."
"For them, it is." Deog smirked. "The Archive doesn't waste a chance to listen."
◇◇◇
When the overseers entered, the hum deepened. Five of them—dressed in black and white formalwear marked with Aether-laced sashes—took position on the raised platform. Their eyes shimmered faintly, pupils reflecting soft color, the mark of active Resonants.
The central overseer, a woman with a silver-trimmed coat and a voice that carried like thunder wrapped in silk, addressed the hall.
"Welcome, new recruits. Today you begin service under the Archive of Order, guardian of balance between the Seven Crowns. You were chosen not only for strength but for restraint."
Her gaze swept across the hall until it met Connor's. For a heartbeat, the world dimmed. The hum within the tower surged—louder, nearer. Then it faded, as if retreating.
◇◇◇
Later, the recruits were divided into units. Connor and Deog were assigned to Unit B, a cluster of ten trainees, each carrying a different air of confidence—or fear.
A tall boy with short crimson hair grinned as they approached. "You two look lost. First-timers?"
Deog crossed his arms. "Aren't we all?"
"Name's Marek." The boy extended a hand to Connor. "Fire Crown sector. Guess that makes me your resident inferno."
Before Connor could respond, a girl stepped between them, her hair cut short, eyes the pale blue of stormlight. "Don't mind him," she said flatly. "He likes to talk."
"Hey—" Marek started, but the girl had already turned away.
"I'm Lira, from the Skyward."
Connor nodded politely, taking in the others: a quiet Water-born in ceremonial white, a Forest adept with vines tattooed along his arms, and two siblings from Avalar—both with matching Archive crests on their collars.
Unit B was a collage of the Crowns, each carrying pride like armor.
◇◇◇
Training began before dawn the next day. They gathered in the inner courts—an open expanse where Aether channels ran through the floor like glowing rivers. Instructors moved among them, silent and observant.
"Focus," one called out. "Let the current meet your breath. Control defines strength."
Connor closed his eyes and reached inward. The hum answered instantly—too easily. Power thrummed through his fingertips, eager and bright.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. Most recruits struggled for days to grasp even a spark. But Aether moved toward him as if it already knew the shape of his mind.
The instructor's gaze lingered. "Interesting…" he murmured.
Deog gave Connor a wary glance. "You're drawing attention again."
Connor tried to pull back the current, but the hum refused to let go. Somewhere deep within the tower, a second pulse echoed in reply. It wasn't just resonance anymore—it was recognition.