Raine woke to the chill of dawn, his body aching from another night on the hard ground. He pulled his tattered cloak tighter around his shoulders, suppressing a shiver. He had passed a roadside inn the previous evening, but with only a handful of copper left, a warm bed had been out of the question.

He sighed, staring at the first hints of morning light spilling over the horizon. Today is the day. After months of travel, he would finally reach Vaelora, the City of Towers, home to the Arcanum Order—the legendary citadel where only the most gifted could learn the secrets of Essence Weaving.

If I fail this test, I have nothing left.

Raine brushed the dirt from his worn tunic and chewed a stale strip of dried meat as he packed his few belongings. With the city so close, he forced himself to ignore his hunger. Every coin mattered now.

By midmorning, the winding dirt road gave way to cobbled paths, and small cottages dotted the landscape. He passed groups of travelers, merchants, and wandering mercenaries, some giving him wary glances.

Each new hill brought a surge of anticipation, but time after time, the sprawling city remained out of sight. When he finally crested one last ridge, Raine’s breath caught.

Vaelora stretched into the distance, a vast metropolis of towering spires and domed citadels, its skyline shrouded in the morning mist. The Arcanum, with its gleaming silver towers, stood at its heart like a challenge to the heavens.

He stared in awe. I knew it was big, but… The sheer scale of it overwhelmed him. The entire province could fit inside its stone walls.

"You look like you've never seen a city before."

Raine turned sharply, finding a broad-shouldered man in a dark blue cloak grinning at him. The man’s eyes gleamed with amusement.

"First time here?"

Raine hesitated before nodding.

"I knew it," the man laughed. "I see that same look every season. Where are you from, lad?"

"Nowhere that matters," Raine said quickly.

The man raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. "Well, if you're here to join the Arcanum, just follow the main road. You'll see it soon enough."

Before Raine could respond, the man strode off, disappearing into the crowd.

Entering Vaelora was like stepping into another world.

The streets swarmed with people—merchants shouting their wares, noble carriages rolling past, armed guards patrolling the busy avenues. The scent of spices and fresh bread filled the air, mingling with the stench of too many bodies pressed together.

Raine moved carefully, gripping the small pouch at his belt. Thieves prowled these streets, and he had little enough to lose.

At the city’s center, the roads widened into grand boulevards, lined with statues and marble halls. The Arcanum's twin towers loomed ahead, an imposing fortress of silver and stone.

A group of guards in polished armor stood at the entrance, each carrying a slender blacksteel blade at their side. As Raine approached, one of them stepped forward. She was tall, with sharp features and piercing eyes.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

"State your purpose," she said.

"I’m here to take the entrance trials."

She studied him for a moment, then nodded toward a side building. "Testing Hall is through there. Follow the signs."

Raine exhaled and moved on.

Inside the Testing Hall, dozens of hopefuls waited on long wooden benches, their faces ranging from nervous to determined. Most wore fine robes, bearing the sigils of noble houses.

Raine felt out of place in his travel-worn clothes. He had spent weeks on the road, and it showed.

At the front desk sat a severe-looking woman, her ink-stained fingers sorting through stacks of parchment. Raine stepped forward.

"Name?" she asked without looking up.

"Raine."

"Family name?"

He hesitated. "I don’t have one."

That made her glance up. "No family name?"

"Not one that matters."

She sighed, writing down Raine of Nowhere in her ledger. "Very well. Pay the testing fee—one gold crown or twenty silver marks."

Raine stiffened. He had known there would be a cost, but hearing it aloud still made his stomach twist. He barely had enough.

With a quiet breath, he counted out his silver coins. When he finished, his pouch was nearly empty.

This had better be worth it.

The woman took the money and motioned for him to sit.

It was nearly an hour before a young apprentice in white robes approached him.

"Raine?"

He stood.

"Follow me."

She led him through a dimly lit corridor before stopping at an oak door. She knocked once.

"Enter," came a voice from inside.

The apprentice opened the door and stepped aside. Raine took a steadying breath and walked in.

The office smelled of parchment and old ink. Books lined every wall, some bound in iron chains. At the desk sat a middle-aged man, his robes adorned with silver embroidery. His dark eyes were calculating as he studied Raine.

"Adept Veyne," the man introduced himself. "You're here to be tested."

Raine nodded, his heart hammering.

Adept Veyne opened a small black box and removed a disc of polished obsidian. It was smooth, almost mirror-like, and cold even from a distance.

"This is a Resonance Stone," Veyne explained. "It reacts to Essence within the body. If you have talent, the stone will respond. Place both hands on it and focus."

Raine swallowed and grasped the stone. It was icy cold, its surface unnaturally smooth.

"Focus," Veyne instructed.

Raine closed his eyes and reached out, searching for something—anything.

Nothing happened.

The silence stretched.

"Most applicants fail," Veyne said flatly. "If nothing happens, you have no affinity for Essence."

Raine gritted his teeth. He hadn’t come this far for nothing.

Then, suddenly—

A pulling sensation. A whisper in the void.

The stone shuddered in his hands, and at its center, a faint black mark appeared.

Veyne’s expression changed.

Raine focused harder, willing the mark to grow. It expanded, jagged lines branching outward, cracking the surface of the stone itself.

A pulse of cold energy rushed up Raine’s arms, sending a violent shudder through his body.

With a sharp snap, the stone fractured—a spiderweb of black cracks spreading across its surface.

Raine gasped, his limbs numb, his mind spinning. He barely registered Veyne's stunned expression.

Then, with a voice far quieter than before, the Adept spoke.

"…I need to inform the Magister."

He stood abruptly, clutching the broken stone. "Stay here."

Raine barely had the strength to nod before the man left the room, the heavy door locking behind him.

A slow dread settled over Raine’s chest.

Something is very, very wrong.