With each step towards the Academy Exam Center, my mind whirled with possibilities and uncertainties. The notion of an arranged marriage, though never forcefully imposed by my family, loomed in the background like an unspoken ultimatum. It was the freedom to make my own choices that now weighed heavily upon me. The thrill of carving out my destiny was as exhilarating as it was intimidating. A trace of uncertainty lingered, a bitter aftertaste to my resolve. Yet, it was overpowered by a growing sense of determination. I quickened my pace, feeling my resolve crystallize with every step. Today, at the Academy Exam Center, I was not just another aspirant; I was a sculptor of my fate, ready to chisel out a future where my choices stood at the forefront..
As I made my way to the Academy Exam Center, my mind wandered over the countless hours I’d spent mastering the inherited rapier of my great-great-great-Grandpa. Yet, despite all my efforts, doubt lingered like a persistent shadow. It seemed no amount of training could quell the nagging feeling of inadequacy.
Ahead, the towering dome of Arihe loomed, a structure said to be blessed by Heliora, the sun goddess. To many, it was a symbol of divine grace, but to me, it felt like a beautifully gilded prison. The legendary tales of Eirini, the revered prophetess, fell flat in my ears. If Heliora was truly orchestrating our fates, then why did mine feel like a ship adrift in a storm? Why am I not among the fortunate ones? Why must I pass a cursed test to escape this city? Surely, it can't be my fate to marry a stranger at the age of 16.
She was revered for showering our land with her light, yet I couldn't help but question her presence when the Shading descended, severing us from the world beyond. The Church of the Sun spoke of Eirini’s communion with Heliora, how she received the sun fragment that completed the celestial aligner, bringing the Church into existence. This relic was the cornerstone of their faith, a symbol of hope and resilience for the people of Solaron. Yet, to me, these beliefs felt hollow, like clinging to a mirage.
I often found myself questioning the reverence towards a goddess who, in my eyes, had done little more than amplify the heat of summer. Eirini's cherished sun fragment seemed like nothing more than a well-polished stone, a relic of convenience rather than divinity.
As I approached the Academy Exam Center, its formidable walls stood as a monument to magical prowess. Surrounded by mages exuding confidence and power, I clutched my notes tightly, finding solace in my quiet, unwavering resolve. My fingers traced the Academy's emblem, worn on the edge of the parchment. This embossed emblem depicts a majestic castle set against a crimson sun. Beneath it, the name Arihe is inscribed. This is the name of our beloved, magic-domed, caged city.
Each line I followed was a silent promise to myself, a commitment to overcome the odds. Pausing at a crease in the paper, I felt it mirroring the unease in my heart, a small but significant reminder of the challenges that lay ahead.
I inhaled deeply, allowing it to calm me down like a river and soothe my jangled nerves. As soon as I entered the busy hallways of the Academy, I felt the vibrant energy of the students. They moved with an air of assurance, draped in robes that whispered of prestige and confidence. A sharp pang of jealousy struck me as I passed a group of young mages. Their eyes shimmered with a soft luminescence, effortlessly weaving spells into the air.
Despite the envy that knotted in my chest, I fortified my resolve. Today wasn't just about passing the exams; it was about carving a future free from the constraints set by others, a future where I was the master of my own story. I was thinking about that flower all the time. It was giving me the power to believe in myself.
I approached the combat arena, my posture embodying a calm yet potent energy. Memories of past duels, where I had stood victorious, undefeated, flickered through my mind. Praise from my instructors on my prowess with the sword echoed in my ears. Yet, as vital as this skill was, it was merely one facet of the complex mosaic that made up the Academy's examination.
Walking into the room designated for the Combat Exam, I offered a familiar smile to the instructors. This being my third attempt, a sense of camaraderie had developed between us. The room buzzed with the focused intensity of other students undergoing their trials. While waiting for my turn, I retreated to a quiet corner, my eyes keenly observing the performances of my peers.
As I waited for my turn, observing others struggling with the test, a relatively young teacher approached and greeted me. Though I didn't know his name, his face was familiar – after all, this was my third time facing this exam. This teacher was tall, with an athletic build, and possessed notably thick black hair. The look in his eyes was sharp and penetrating. He teased me with a chuckle. "If you want, I can just write A+ on your exam paper right here and save you some time."
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I responded with a smile, his words effortlessly lifting the weight of tension from my shoulders. "No way! This is the part I enjoy the most."
The exam was a dance of skill against animated dummies, these metallic marionettes crafted with lifelike features and padded for safety. They wielded bamboo swords and lightweight shields, their movements surprisingly agile and precise, a true test of each examinee’s abilities.
Watching, I couldn’t help but marvel at the dummies' fluidity, their ability to adapt seamlessly to each student's combat style. Yet, it was the struggles of some students, particularly those blessed with magical affinity, that caught my attention. Their struggles, their inability to match the prowess their birthright promised, stirred a complex mix of emotions within me. My fists clenched involuntarily, a surge of impatience growing as I awaited my turn, a part of me vexed by the sight of these privileged magic users faltering in the face of a challenge they were supposedly born to conquer.
Their performances, though lackluster, were enough to pass, thanks to their inherent magical abilities. This leniency towards the combat exam irked me, highlighting the unjust advantage they held. Yet, the stark reality was undeniable – without magic, sheer combat skill rarely sufficed. I was living proof of this unforgiving truth.
Directing my anger towards them or the fate was pointless. I understood the rules of this world all too well. It had always been a divide between those born into privilege or those blessed with extraordinary powers. Bemoaning my fate wouldn't alter anything. Giving in to despair was tantamount to admitting defeat before even trying. This harsh reality had long been apparent to me.
As a girl with aspirations of becoming a Nightbearer, I stood out in a family rooted in farming. The only other person in our lineage who had strayed from tradition was my great-great-grandfather, the original owner of this rapier. His tales and this weapon were discoveries from my childhood explorations in our attic. I’m not sure about the number of greats. Maybe it was great-great-great-great-grandfather.
My family attempted to guide me toward more conventional paths, but I was driven by an insatiable yearning. A yearning to break free from the confines of our sheltered city, to seek adventure, to prove myself. Nightbearers symbolized the very freedom I craved, a stark contrast to the predictable life laid out for me.
My heart pounded as my name was called. I took a deep breath, allowing the steady rhythm to calm my nerves. As I stepped forward, the background murmurs from the other students became a distant echo. The teacher who talked to me before said “You got this” while I was walking in front of him. My focus narrowed to the formidable metal adversary before me, the rest of the world fading into oblivion.
Grasping my rapier, a sense of clarity enveloped me. My mind was clear of all distractions, and my hand was steady. I nodded resolutely, keeping my eyes on my opponent, when the instructor asked if I was ready.
The battle began, and I relied on instinct and quick reflexes. The dummy, with its predictable attacks, was easy to outmaneuver for me.
As I danced around its clumsy swings. The sound of its blade slicing through the air was a rhythm I countered with agile steps, my rapier feeling like an extension of my own body.
I moved with the grace of a forest cat, eyeing the dummy for an opening. My blade, glinting in the dim light, arced through the air, targeting a vulnerable joint in the dummy's construct.
A hush fell over the room as my rapier struck true, the sound of metal clashing against metal resonating in the hallowed halls. The dummy's movements halted, its structure succumbing to the precision of my strike.
Time itself seemed to stop for a brief moment. A wave of shock swept through the spectators as their eyes locked on me, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. There, in the midst of their stunned silence, a fierce triumph surged within me. Their astonishment only steeled my determination to carve out my rightful place among the Nightbearers, defying the limitations of a world that had no place for someone like me.
Leaving behind the resonating clangs of swords in the combat arena, I shifted my focus to the quieter, yet equally daunting battlefield of the written exam. This test was a blend of general literacy and knowledge about magic types and our country's history. Despite this being my third foray into these academic depths, I carried with me a hard-earned confidence, forged through countless nights of relentless study.
Approaching the exam room, I was met with the instructor's stern, yet slightly familiar gaze. Inhaling deeply for composure, I crossed the threshold into a realm of hushed concentration. Seating myself, I pushed down the fluttering in my chest, unrolled the parchment before me, and let my quill dance across it. The knowledge flowed from the reservoir of my determination and study. Though the territory was familiar, the real test would be the spellcasting section, a hurdle I had yet to clear.
As my pen hurried over the paper, my thoughts momentarily wandered to my mother's words from that morning. In the quiet of the exam room, the specter of a future shackled by an undesired marriage stirred a deep restlessness in me. I longed for a life of adventure and discovery, far from the confinements of our city, and I was determined not to let that dream be stolen from me.
Finally, with the last question answered, I handed over my scroll. My heart pounded with anticipation as I awaited the instructor's scrutinizing evaluation. After a seemingly endless wait, his eyes met mine, and he gave a nod of acknowledgment. A fleeting wave of relief washed over me, but I remained acutely aware that the real challenge still lay ahead – the test of magical affinity.