Britoria, known as the “Town of Foundation,” stood as one of the most historical places in Eudora. Its modest appearance might fool a passerby into thinking it insignificant, but its legacy as the first town freed by the Liberator spoke volumes.
“This is the place?” Abell asked, glancing around.
“Yes, it is,” Hugo replied, taking a deep breath. “Man, I missed this place.”
Abell frowned. “I was expecting something cooler than this—it’s barely bigger than Iridius.”
Gaius walked past him with a detached expression. “Does it really matter how it looks? We’re here to take an exam, not sightsee,” he scoffed.
Hugo chuckled. “I’ll admit, I had the same reaction my first time here. You’re a country bumpkin anyway—you’ll get used to it.”
Abell tried to ignore the jab, his voice calm but firm. “Fine. Let’s just head in—I’ve waited too long for this.”
As the trio stepped out of the marsh and onto the cobbled road, the air seemed lighter, free of the swamp’s oppressive weight. Britoria’s cobblestone streets wound between sturdy stone buildings adorned with the Liberator’s crest. The town square came into view, dominated by the towering Liberator’s Monument. Around the monument, merchants called out to passersby, children played near the fountain, and a faint hum of activity filled the air.
“Hugo, why are there so many Luminaries here?” Abell asked, noticing the armored figures scattered around the town.
“Well, the exam is a serious event. There are proctors everywhere to keep things under control,” Hugo explained. “But Britoria is more than just an exam site. It’s the first place the Liberator freed for humanity.”
“Really? This place?” Abell asked skeptically.
“Did you learn anything as a kid?” Gaius said, smirking. “This is basic knowledge.”
“You want to fight, Gaius? I’m ready for a rematch,” Abell replied, narrowing his eyes.
“No thanks. I need to save my energy for the exam,” Gaius scoffed.
Hugo shook his head at their bickering. “Anyway, this town holds significant importance. It’s one of the few places where the four families hold almost no influence.”
Gaius’s interest piqued. “Is that why it’s between the western and central regions?”
“Exactly. That’s also why the academy is located here,” Hugo said with a nod.
“I don’t get it. What difference does the location make?” Abell asked, confused.
Gaius sighed. “It’s in a neutral zone, away from the control of the Alsaints and Benedicts. Think about it.”
“Good insight, Gaius. Abell, you need to catch up. A Luminary is nothing without his mind,” Hugo teased.
“That doesn’t matter when you’re the strongest,” Abell muttered, embarrassed.
As they neared the town square, the crowd grew larger. A stage stood at the center, where an older man addressed the gathering. His silver hair, streaked with white, was swept back haphazardly, and a scruffy beard framed his sharp jawline. Lean but strong, he tapped a polished ebony cane with a scuffed silver handle against the ground as he moved.
Hugo smiled, instantly recognizing him. “You’ll see,” he said as Abell asked, “Who’s that?”
Rozen turned to face the crowd, tapping his cane firmly against the stage to draw attention. “Thank you all for your patience and commitment. I know traveling here wasn’t easy, especially for those coming from the northern and eastern regions,” he began, his deep voice carrying effortlessly across the square.
“For those who don’t know me, I am Rozen Hyacinth, headmaster of the Luminary Academy. This town, Britoria, is not just a landmark—it’s where humanity’s fight for freedom began. The Liberator made his stand here, and from this soil, a beacon of hope rose for all of Eudora. It is only fitting that this place serves as the gateway for the next generation of Luminaries.”
As he paced the stage, his cane tapped rhythmically against the wood with each step, punctuating his words. “The entrance exam begins tomorrow. Understand this: the academy isn’t a place for the faint of heart.
“Out of 100 applicants last year, only 20 passed. The path ahead is grueling and unforgiving, but the rewards are immeasurable. I hope this year isn’t such a waste of time.”
“Ahem,” one of the Luminaries nearby coughed, attempting to keep Rozen on track.
“Right,” Rozen continued. “All I’ll say is, don’t be discouraged if you fail. I’ve seen the most talented students crumble under pressure.”
Abell glanced at Gaius. “What, don’t tell me you’re nervous.”
“Hmph,” Gaius replied, his face unreadable.
Rozen paused briefly, gripping the cane and leaning on it with exaggerated ease. “For those of you who fail, remember this: failure is not the end. I’ve seen talented students crumble, yet many returned stronger, proving themselves in ways the academy could not measure.”
He gestured toward the crowd with the cane, a small smirk playing on his lips. “And impress me—these past few years have been dreadfully boring.”
“Ahem,” one of the Luminaries behind him cleared their throat. “Headmaster, please keep your personal opinions to yourself.”
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Rozen turned sharply, pointing the cane at the Luminary. “I am the headmaster, and I’ll speak however I see fit,” he said with a small scowl, the crowd murmuring softly at the outburst.
Clearing his throat, he turned back to the audience. “Parents, believe in your children. They are here because they are the brightest hopes of this land. As for you students, I expect nothing less than your very best. Show me that you are worthy of this legacy.”
Finally, he spun the cane once in his hand as he stepped back. “Lastly, all students, bring your recommendation papers to the staff and register your names. Be here tomorrow morning. That is all.”
As Rozen left the stage, groups of people began gathering around the registration booths, their chatter filling the square with excitement and anticipation. Abell and Gaius stood rooted in place, exchanging uncertain glances before both turned to Hugo, their confusion evident.
“What’s wrong?” Hugo asked, raising an eyebrow.
“We don’t have a letter,” Gaius said calmly, though a faint edge of concern crept into his voice.
“Yeah, you just kinda said you’d give us a chance,” Abell added, scratching the back of his head.
“Oh, that’s what’s got you worried?” Hugo smirked, placing a hand on his hip. “Don’t worry. I’m Hugo Creed. Let’s go see the headmaster.” He gestured confidently, already leading the way.
As the trio turned to leave, Abell’s attention was momentarily drawn elsewhere. Amid the crowd, he noticed a young woman with smooth, dark hair cascading down her back, tied neatly with a ribbon. Her hazel eyes shimmered with a quiet determination, and her porcelain features carried a natural grace that made her stand out effortlessly. She moved with a poise that seemed almost deliberate, a calm presence among the bustling crowd.
“Abell, hurry up!” Hugo called, snapping him out of his thoughts. “The old man’s going to leave soon!”
“Right, I’m coming!” Abell muttered, catching up as they made their way to the back of the stage.
The trio arrived at the edge of the stage, where a few Luminaries stood on guard. One of them, a young woman with a polite but firm demeanor, stepped forward to address them. “Excuse me, the registration booths are at the front,” she said.
“We know,” Hugo replied with a grin, “but we’re here to talk to Rozen.”
The Luminary hesitated, clearly taken aback. “I’m sorry, but he’s not expecting anyone right now.”
Hugo’s grin widened. “Tell him Hugo Creed is waiting for him.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Hugo Creed?—oh! I’m so sorry, sir! I didn’t recognize you!” she said, her face flushing as she stepped aside. “I’ll let him know right away.”
Abell raised an eyebrow, muttering under his breath, “Your name’s that famous, huh?”
Hugo smirked. “You’d be surprised.”
A few moments later, Rozen Hyacinth emerged from the back of the stage, his expression a mix of irritation and curiosity. He leaned slightly on his cane, his sharp hazel eyes flicking between the three of them.
“What is it now, Hugo?” Rozen grumbled. “If this is about sparring, I’ve already told you I’m done humoring you. My knees don’t recover like they used to.”
Hugo laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s not that this time. I actually have a favor to ask.”
Rozen raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into an almost-smile. “A favor? From you? This should be good. What is it?”
“You see these two?” Hugo motioned toward Abell and Gaius, who suddenly felt very exposed under Rozen’s scrutinizing gaze. “They’ve caught my eye. I believe they’re extraordinarily talented, and I want you to let them participate in tomorrow’s exam.”
For a moment, silence hung in the air before Rozen burst out laughing, his cane tapping loudly against the ground as he doubled over. Even Hugo seemed caught off guard by the reaction.
“You want me,” Rozen said between laughs, “to personally allow two boys I’ve never heard of into my academy? Do you think I hand out invitations like candy?”
“Yes,” Hugo replied, though his usual confidence faltered slightly. “I mean, yes, I’m asking because I believe in them.”
Rozen’s laughter subsided, his sharp gaze locking onto the boys. “Why should I? Because you’re Hugo Creed? That’s probably what you were banking on, wasn’t it?” He leaned forward slightly, his skeptical expression cutting through the air. “Alright, boys, let me ask you something: What would you do if I said no?”
Gaius was the first to respond, his tone calm and his expression indifferent. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter to me. I’ll figure something out. There’s always another way.”
Rozen raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the bluntness. Then he turned to Abell, who stood with his jaw set and his eyes blazing with determination.
“I’d find a way to become a Luminary on my own,” Abell said, his voice steady. A small, almost unsettling smile crept onto his face as his gaze didn’t waver. “What I want is too important. I want to surpass the Liberator.”
Rozen stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter again, this time harder than before. “These two are really something!” he exclaimed, wiping his eyes. “Alright, Hugo, I’ll give them a shot. They’ve got some fire in them. Here.” He handed Hugo two small stamps, each engraved with the academy’s crest. “These are my personal recommendation stamps. Go register them.”
Hugo exhaled deeply, muttering under his breath, “I can’t believe that actually worked.”
As the group turned to leave, Rozen tapped Hugo’s shoulder with his cane. “Let the boys go register. You and I need to have a little chat.”
“I’ll meet up with you two later okay.” Hugo said sternly.
With the recommendation stamps in hand, Abell and Gaius made their way to the registration booths at the front of the square. The crowd was still dense, filled with murmurs of excitement and nerves as students and their families queued up to submit their letters. The atmosphere was electric, the kind of tension that made Abell’s heart pound harder with each step.
The two boys fell in line behind a group of students, most holding tightly to envelopes adorned with ornate seals. Abell glanced at the stamp in his hand, its engraved crest catching the light. “This still feels weird,” he muttered, turning it over. “I mean, it’s not even a letter.”
“Stop overthinking it,” Gaius said, his tone flat as usual. “If the headmaster’s stamp isn’t good enough, nothing is.”
Abell gave a small laugh, but his grip on the stamp tightened. “I guess you’re right. It just feels… official now.”
The line moved forward, and before long, they reached the booth. A stern-looking Luminary sat behind the desk, her sharp eyes glancing up at them. “Your letters?” she asked briskly, her pen poised over the ledger.
Gaius was the first to respond, setting his stamp on the desk with a calm confidence. “We’ve got these instead.”
The Luminary’s brow furrowed as she picked up the stamp, inspecting it closely. Her expression softened immediately, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. “This… this is Headmaster Hyacinth’s seal.” She looked up at them, clearly intrigued. “Both of you?”
Abell nodded, placing his stamp next to Gaius’s. “Yeah. He gave them to us personally.”
The Luminary’s lips pressed into a thin line as she quickly jotted their names in the ledger. “Understood,” she said, her tone more respectful now. “You’re officially registered. These will serve as your entry slips. Be at the exam site tomorrow morning—no exceptions.”
Gaius took his slip without a word, tucking it neatly into his pocket. Abell hesitated momentarily before grabbing his, staring at the simple paper. For something so small, it carried so much weight.
“You good?” Gaius asked, already turning to leave.
Abell nodded, tucking the slip into his pouch. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”
The two stepped away from the booth, weaving through the thinning crowd. The faint glow of lanterns lit the square as the sun dipped behind the rooftops. Britoria’s lively energy began to fade into the calm of evening but for Abell and Gaius, the anticipation of the exam filled the air with a heavy charge.
“Don’t get too excited,” Gaius said, glancing sideways at Abell. “You’ve still got to pass tomorrow.”
Abell smirked. “Same goes for you. Try not to choke, alright?”
Gaius smirked but didn’t respond. As he looked at the crowd of students waiting.