"Staring at the sun?" a muscular man in his forties asked, walking toward the young man standing in the middle of the crop field. "Or feeling nervous? When I was your age, I was excited. You look like you're going to cry the second we leave home."
Damon Thorne looked at the man—his father, Agoren—and laughed. "I'm going to cry? Are you serious? When was the last time you saw me cry? I'm just wondering what kind of people I'll meet there. My whole future depends on this mana evaluation."
Agoren patted his shoulder. "Everything will be fine. Don't be stressed. Now come, it's time to leave."
Back at the house, Damon's mother was waiting. She looked a little frustrated with Agoren for being late, but her focus quickly shifted to her son. She pulled Damon into a tight hug.
"No matter what happens, always remember that you are a Thorne," she whispered. "Don't let anyone look down on you. We taught you to be calm like a river, but remember—water has the power to drown those who throw stones at it."
Damon nodded firmly. "Don't worry, Mother. I won't forget."
With that, father and son headed to the main gate where three horse-drawn carts waited. They climbed into the middle carriage, finding another father and son already seated inside.
"It's been ten years since we last met, Alaric Solvane," Agoren said as they settled into the middle cart. He looked at the boy sitting across from Damon. "And you must be Orion, right?"
"Yes, Mr. Thorne," Orion replied. He was the same age as Damon, but carried himself with a different kind of energy.
Alaric leaned back, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "I still miss those days, Agoren. The adventures, the monsters we hunted, the dungeons we barely crawled out of..."
"Right you are!" Agoren laughed. "I wonder... do you think our other companions will be there with their children today?"
Alaric shrugged, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Who knows? It's been a long time since the party split up."
They talked for a few more minutes. And then suddenly
"Wait!" Agoren barked, slapping his forehead. "We completely forgot to introduce our sons to each other properly."
Alaric laughed, his eyes crinkling. "You're right. Habits of old adventurers—we always focus on the monsters first and the people second."
"Damon," Agoren said, gesturing to the boy across from them. "This is Orion Solvane."
Orion leaned forward, offering a confident nod. "I'm sixteen," he added, his voice steady. "The same age as you, I imagine."
Damon introduced himself, but before they could say more, the cart jolted to a sudden, heavy stop. They had arrived.
As they stepped out, the scale of the place took Damon's breath away. It wasn't just a building; it was a massive 50-acre campus. A dozen large stone structures surrounded a towering central hall that dominated the skyline.
The Thorne and Solvane families walked through the main gates together. The courtyard was swarming with people, and the atmosphere was thick with nervous energy. Everywhere Damon looked, he saw the same thing: a guardian—father, mother, or warrior—standing beside a single child. Hundreds of futures were about to be decided in that main building.