Chapter 13: Gifted

Ronald stood in his spacious room on the third floor of the Stone Tower, soaking in the tranquil ambiance of his surroundings. The soft hum of magic lingered in the air, blending with the scent of lavender incense that curled lazily from a brass burner in the corner. His bed, wide and plush with thick linens, promised restful nights, and the intricately woven rugs beneath his feet muffled every step, providing a sense of comfort and luxury. This room was a stark contrast to the utilitarian chambers of the lower floors, and it reminded him that being Gifted came with certain privileges.

After adjusting the smooth, perfectly tailored dark gray robe, Ronald glanced at himself in the large, polished mirror as his glasses gleamed. The shimmer in the threading of his robe, subtle yet undeniable, marked him as a Gifted recruit—one of the elite. It was a small detail, but one that made all the difference. He ran a hand through his dark hair, feeling a surge of pride swell within him.

With a deep breath, he stepped out of his room and into the wide, immaculately kept hallway. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting ancient magical battles and landscapes, each woven with metallic threads that caught the light in a way that made them seem alive. As he walked down the corridor, he passed a few fellow Gifted recruits, each wearing the same dark gray robes with the shimmering thread, and each carrying themselves with the same air of confidence that Ronald felt within himself.

"Morning, Ronald," one recruit greeted him with a smile, their tone casual but respectful.

"Morning," Ronald replied, nodding as he continued his walk.

As he approached the grand staircase, he felt an undeniable sense of superiority over the recruits below. The lower floors, where the non-Gifted lived, had a more cramped, utilitarian feel. But here, on the third floor, everything was different—spacious, elegant, and undeniably prestigious. Even the lighting felt warmer, and more welcoming. The faint hum of magic seemed to pulse through the very stones of the tower, a constant reminder of the ancient power contained within these walls.

Ronald passed through the common area on the third floor, where groups of Gifted recruits were lounging, chatting, and laughing. Some were discussing their magical studies, while others were simply enjoying the leisurely morning before their first lessons. There was a palpable sense of confidence among them—a sense that they belonged here, at the top. Ronald exchanged a few nods and smiles as he passed, enjoying the camaraderie of his peers.

His descent to the first floor, where the majority of the morning activity took place, was swift. The wide hall was already bustling with recruits preparing for the day's lessons. As Ronald made his way through the crowd, he noticed the envious glances from the non-gifted recruits—those who wore the same dark gray robes but lacked the shimmer of magic in the threads. It wasn’t overt, but the distinction between the Gifted and the non-Gifted was clear. The latter moved through the hall with a sense of urgency, always striving to prove themselves, while the former—those like Ronald—moved with ease, assured of their place.

"Ronald!" a voice called from behind, and he turned to see another Gifted recruit waving at him from across the hall. The recruit smiled, his expression smug but friendly. Ronald returned the wave, feeling a surge of satisfaction at being acknowledged by his peers.

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As he made his way toward his classroom, Ronald couldn't help but notice how the non-gifted recruits seemed to part as he walked by, their conversations quieting as he passed. He didn’t need to say anything—the shimmer in his robes spoke for him. He was Gifted, and that alone set him apart.

As he walked, a snippet of conversation reached his ears. "Did you hear? A faculty member mentioned that Three Eyes and Salamander are returning today," one recruit said in a low, nervous tone.

Ronald stopped in his tracks to listen. While not full-fledged Apostles, these two were far from ordinary. They were recruits from the previous batch, having already found their paths and begun walking them. Ronald turned slightly, pretending to adjust his robes as he eavesdropped more intently.

The murmurs grew louder as two robed figures entered through the wide entrance of the first floor. The first figure immediately drew attention—a tall, thin young man with three eyes. The third eye was set in the middle of his forehead, just below his short, unruly brown hair, and it darted around independently of the other two, its gaze cold and predatory. A murderous aura emanated from him, thick and suffocating, as if his very presence threatened violence.

Beside him walked another recruit, his face partially covered in glossy red scales that glinted menacingly in the low light. The scales wrapped around his cheeks and chin, giving him a reptilian, otherworldly appearance, while his eyes—sharp and unnerving—scanned the crowd with a predator’s focus. His every step was deliberate, almost too smooth, like a creature gliding through water. His lips curled into a permanent, slight sneer, as if the very sight of those around him was beneath his notice.

The two walked side by side, their footsteps echoing sharply against the stone floor, cutting through the murmur of conversations that filled the hall. As they advanced, the crowd reacted immediately—recruits stepping back instinctively, their faces a mix of awe and trepidation. The whispers grew louder, laced with fear and curiosity, while others simply stood frozen, avoiding the intense gaze of the two recruits. The air itself seemed to change with their presence, a suffocating heaviness that pressed down on the others like an invisible force.

"They’re back," one recruit whispered, his voice tinged with reverence.

"Did you see him? Three Eyes is even more terrifying up close…"

"Look at Salamander’s scales… I heard he took down a creature by himself when he first joined."

The murmurs continued, though no one dared to speak too loudly. There was a collective sense of reverence in the way the other recruits parted, allowing the duo to pass without hesitation or challenge. They moved with the kind of confidence that came only from knowing you were above the rest—recruits who had already survived the trials, who had come out stronger, and who were undoubtedly destined for greater things. Even though they weren’t yet Apostles, their power was obvious, their mere presence casting a long shadow over the room.

Ronald stood still as they passed, feeling the weight of their aura pressing down on him like a physical force. His breath quickened, his chest tightening as he adjusted his glasses. The pressure was different from anything he had felt before—less than the overwhelming might of the Apostles, but still enough to make his knees tremble slightly. He realized in that moment that these two recruits had already carved out their place within the tower’s complex hierarchy. Their ascent had already begun.

As the duo ascended the grand staircase, their forms became smaller, but the heavy atmosphere they left behind lingered long after they disappeared from sight.

“They’re on a whole different level,” Ronald muttered to himself. He could still feel the lingering tension in the air as if the very stones of the tower had absorbed the presence of Three Eyes and Salamander.

Around him, other recruits continued to stare in awe, some whispering hurriedly to one another about the return of the two. Ronald could see the envy and admiration etched on their faces, and it made him all the more determined not to fall behind. Though he was Gifted, he knew the Stone Tower was ruthless—only the strongest, the smartest, and the most cunning would rise.

With renewed determination, Ronald turned away from the spectacle and headed toward his classroom. The path ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear—here in the Stone Tower, even the Gifted had to fight for their place. He wouldn’t allow himself to be overshadowed. Not by Three Eyes, not by Salamander, and not by anyone. Every lesson had to count.