The citizens of Ragnarok are hard and brutish, and although many of them show great beauty, none can be compared to the fairness and delicate beauty of the Sunstonians, who have hair the texture of silk and skin as pale as milk. Still, it can be agreed that no matter how ugly the people of Ragnarok are considered, they are far better than the desert people of Calodan, whose weathered faces and demeanor are just as unforgiving as the desert they call home.
Awakened beauty and physiology.
Aura magazine
Sunstone, Year 2274.
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Aodhán woke up the next morning feeling slightly nervous as it was the day of the academy trials, and he had no idea what to expect, but Daruk was feeling much worse, and it took half an hour to convince him that he would gain nothing from an extra hour of meditation.
They finally stepped out of the phoenix’s nest an hour later, dressed in their new clothes. Aodhán still had the storm scarf wrapped around his neck; in fact, he’d even made it longer, and now it covered his entire shoulders.
As they walked to the bus station, or in this case, hoverbus station, Aodhán said to Daruk, “Stop worrying so much; you’ll be fine, and we’ll be fine.”
“Or we won’t.” Daruk replied sourly. “No one knows what trials they’ll throw at us as they change them every year, so forgive me if I can’t stop my mind from torturing me.”
Aodhán chuckled. “You are right, we can’t be sure, but we can believe in ourselves; like a wise man once said, the first step to success is belief, and the second is conviction.”
Daruk narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You literally just came up with that, didn’t you?”
“I consider myself a wise man.” Aodhán shrugged, and Daruk laughed.
The trek to the station lasted about ten minutes, and unsurprisingly, there was a queue of people waiting to get into the next available hoverbus. Aodhán scanned the area, searching for Ahmet and his friends, but found no sign of them.
He then turned to the small ticket stand at the corner of the station and, after stating their destination, bought two tickets for two silvers. He sighed as he returned to the queue and inserted himself into the space Daruk held for him.
After paying 15 silver coins per night in the Phoenix’s nest for the last three days, they were broke, with only 10 silver and a few copper coins left in their purse.
The queue moved quickly, and a few minutes later, they handed their tickets to the bus clerk, who scanned them for a quick moment before letting them into the bus and directing them to a seat towards the back.
The design of the bus itself was similar to the shuttles in Sector 8, and the only difference was the antigravity technology installed underneath it, as well as the propulsion system powered by magical energy.
As they stepped into the bus, Aodhán saw several nervous-looking young awakeneds scattered around the bus. Most turned to stare at them as they walked in, and a few even nodded or waved in acknowledgement.
They took their seats, and Daruk let out a wisp of his aura to prevent himself from sweating, while Aodhán simply closed his eyes and waited for the bus to take off.
A few minutes later, the hoverbus let out a quiet hum as it rumbled to life, and they both turned to the window to take in the view as the bus levitated and began to move. Aodhán was more curious than awed, but the same could not be said for Daruk, who had no knowledge of planes or rockets and, despite having read many books, had never seen or imagined technology like the hoverbus before.
The entire trip took about an hour and forty minutes as the bus had made several stops on the way for other passengers to disembark, but as they closed in on their destination, Aodhán, Daruk, and the half dozen other academy aspirants on the bus had their eyes glued to the window as the awakened academy of the 5th sector loomed before them.
Located at the center of the sector, the academy occupied a landmass about a quarter mile in diameter. Its high walls were made of smooth white stone, designed with silvery rune scripts.
Aodhán shook his head, amazed, as the bus drew closer to the academy. It was much larger than he’d imagined, and because of the high walls, the only building he could see was a large tower covered in what resembled shimmering hieroglyphs, and written in lustrous black paint atop the building were the words library.
Aodhán had read a lot about runes while in the Warren, and although he barely understood it, he was fascinated by it. He knew that it was used for a myriad of purposes, and if he made it into the academy, he intended to learn all he could about them.
The massive gates were open, and Aodhán could see a multitude of people standing outside and within the compound. It was when they finally alighted the hoverbus that he realized that the people standing outside the gate were the parents and guardians of the academy aspirants.
“I wish my mother was here; she’d have been so proud.” Daruk muttered, and Aodhán nodded in agreement. He tried not to think too much about the Brystions or the punishment they must have suffered or would suffer for the crime they had committed to save them.
There were a lot of things he tried not to think about, and the destruction of a particular ship was very high on that list. There was no reason to dwell on things he couldn’t change, but he could make sure that Unrid’s and Synové’s sacrifice was worth it, and the best way to do that was to get enrolled in the academy.
Aodhán and Daruk nervously observed the massive gates, watching as people moved in and out of them, and Aodhán let out a shaky breath. “We can totally do this, Daruk; we just have to believe it.”
“Yeah, y-yeah, sure. I believe it. I do. Do you believe it?”
“Yes, sure, I believe it too.” Aodhán replied and muttered to himself. “Where’s Aldric when you need him?”
After a few more seconds of self-motivation, they moved towards the gate and into the academy grounds. Before them stood a massive building covered in flowery vines, made of the same white stone as the walls, and shimmering blue glass.
In the same lustrous black paint, the words Admin were written at the top of the building. A distance of about 300 feet, covered in a carpet of bright green grass, lay between the gate and the administration building.
Aodhán turned his attention to the mass of people around him. There were about five hundred aspirants in total, maybe more, and in the sea of cores—people, Aodhán could only feel a handful whose cores blazed with an intensity greater than his own.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
Still, tier advancement wasn’t a concrete measure of power, as someone at a lower tier could have much more control and precision over their affinity than someone at a higher tier. Control was one of the major reasons why tier battles were unpredictable.
Aodhán turned, focusing on his ‘core sense’ ability as he scanned the gathered crowd. As his gaze roamed, he identified a few people with bloodlines, even though they had no physical manifestations. He’d practiced with Daruk and had realized that if he focused his senses hard enough, he could detect the bloodline within his core.
Not all bloodlines had physical manifestations like Daruk’s, but most of them did, and he soon turned to a group of teenagers standing a few meters away from them. The group held themselves apart from the crowd with their chins slightly raised as they looked down their noses at the commoners around them.
Nobles. Aodhán didn’t need core sense to feel the aura of their bloodlines, as he could already see the telltale shimmer in the air that occupied an area several meters around them. In the continent of Lutia, most bloodline bearers were members of the nobility, but every once in a while, the kingdoms as well as the academies would bestow a few people with bloodlines for outstanding performances.
There were also those who stumbled on a soul seed on their own, like Daruk had, but they were a minority. As he observed the nobles, one of them, a burly kid with white-ringed blue pupils and black hair, noticed his attention and snapped. “What are you staring at, maggot?”
Aodhán averted his eyes with a sigh, and Daruk chuckled. “Nobles are always such a ray of sunshine.”
“Right.” Aodhán rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the gate as a trio walked in, and their distinctive skin color and demeanor instantly identified them as Calodans.
There were two boys and a girl, and although Aodhán could hardly describe them as beautiful, they had a bewitching quality about them that made it hard to look away. The trio walked past Aodhán, barely even glancing in his direction as they made their way to the group of nobles.
Aodhán soon noticed that there was a sort of hierarchy among them, and although he couldn’t figure it out, Daruk was happy to explain. More aspirants walked into the academy; some looked extremely nervous, while others observed the crowd with an expression that suggested that this wasn’t their first rodeo.
Half an hour after their arrival, though, the door suddenly swung shut, and a woman’s voice rang out, crystal clear, almost as if she were speaking into his ears. “You’ve been given sufficient time to arrive. Anyone who has yet to do so has failed the first part of the test and will have to try again next year.”
Aodhán, as well as over five hundred other aspirants, turned their attention to a group of people who now floated in the air before them. They were all dressed in militaristic uniforms, and although Aodhán couldn’t sense their cores, the double rings around their pupils identified six of them as advanced awakeneds.
The seventh was a woman who stood before the other six, and her lustrous black hair floated behind her as if she were under water. The woman was tall, standing at about 6’2 feet, and was dressed in a uniform far more decorated than that of the others, but what drew Aodhán’s attention the most was the fact that she had no pupils.
Her eyes were a myriad swirl of colors that shone with the intensity of the sun and emanated so much power and pressure that he had to tap into his willpower just to remain standing. Many weren’t as lucky, and more than half of the aspirants either fell to their knees or simply passed out.
A flash of light appeared around each one of the fallen aspirants, and a moment later, they were all gone, leaving a little less than 300 aspirants in the clearing.
“Congratulations to all those still standing; you have passed the second test.” The woman paused, letting the gravity of their situation sink in before she continued. “I am Principal Zatya Malakov, and I welcome you all to this year’s trials. Today is not a day for the weak or fainthearted; getting into this academy is the dream of many, and now you’ve been given a chance to fight for it.
As you step into the next trial, remember this: Mediocrity is not an option. So if you want to be a part of this academy, you’ll have to show us what you’re made of. Let your passion burn brighter than your fears and your determination louder than your doubts. I wish you good luck, and may Raol be with you.”
She gestured towards a chubby man floating behind her, and he gave a single nod of acknowledgement before floating forward. He waved his hand, and a large rectangular portal, wide enough for a dozen men to walk in side by side, appeared before them.
“The next stage of the trial is an examination, and this portal will take you to the hall where it would be held. The last fifty people to make it into the hall will be immediately eliminated from the trials. Good luck once again.” The principal disappeared immediately after she finished speaking, along with the other staff members of the academy except for the man who had created the portal, and he looked down at them with a taunting smirk.
There was a moment of silence before chaos ensued as the aspirants rushed forward. Unsurprisingly, those with a spatial affinity made it to the portal first, while those with speed-focused abilities or bloodlines reached the portal a second later.
Aodhán created a platform of storm beneath his feet and, without hesitation, funneled about a quarter of his willpower into the construct. The world blurred as the platform zoomed forward, moving with such speed that he crossed more than 300 feet in four seconds. He zipped through the portal and suddenly found himself in a round hall made of the black metal and blue glass he’d become so familiar with.
The hall wasn’t too big, only having the capacity to contain about 300–400 people. A slight feeling of vertigo hit him as his feet touched the glass floor, but it passed quickly, and Aodhán turned to see fifteen other aspirants already seated on the available chairs.
The seats were arranged in a semi-circle around a wooden stage that stood against the front wall. The chairs were evenly spaced, an expected arrangement for an examination, and Aodhán moved towards a chair in the middle row.
Several other aspirants burst into the hall a second after he took his seat, sometimes arriving in groups and other times alone, but a few minutes later, they all began appearing with wounds, injuries, or burn marks, and at one point, a girl who was almost completely encased in ice stumbled into the hall.
Aodhán waited impatiently for Daruk to come through the portal, but as time passed without any sign of him, he began to grow nervous. Currently, there were a hundred aspirants seated in the hall, each with their gazes fixed on the swirling portal.
Aodhán clenched his fist to avoid biting his nails as time passed slowly, but just as he began to vibrate with nervous energy, Daruk burst into the room, covered in an icy armor that was stained with blood and shattered in several places.
Aodhán let out a sigh of relief and waved to signal his position. Daruk walked to sit next to him and shook his head. “I tried to do the platform thing, but Raol, you make it look easy.”
He let out a deep breath as he collapsed on the chair beside him and added. “I fell before I could move more than a couple meters and had to fight my way into the portal.”
“Was it that bad?”
“Terrible, absolutely terrible.” Daruk replied.
The three Calodans stumbled in a minute later, and a boy with vivid green hair burst in after, pulling a screaming aspirant along with him. Aodhán turned his attention away from the portal; now that Daruk had made it in, he wasn’t really concerned about the fate of the others.
The portal remained open for another few minutes before it suddenly slammed shut, and the principal, along with her entourage, appeared on the wooden stage.
“Congratulations to all 207 aspirants who have made it this far into the trials. You’ll be given five minutes to settle down, after which the exam shall begin.” As she spoke, Aodhán heard the familiar hum of energy, and suddenly, the entire roof opened and sunlight streamed into the hall.
A door at one end of the room was pushed open, and a trio of academy students walked into the hall, carrying several stacks of exam papers. Three black stripes decorated their chest pockets, identifying them as third-year students, and they handed the papers to the professors before moving to stand stiffly at several corners of the hall.
Tension rose as the aspirants stared nervously at the professors and the stack of papers laid before them. Aodhán tapped his fingers nervously against his seat as he counted down the seconds.
Immediately after the five minutes were up, the third-year students began to share pencils to the aspirants, and one of the professors spoke. “I am Professor Arim Aleran, and I assure you that I have the ability to sense even the slightest inclination to cheat. I urge you not to test me.”
The man smiled, and Aodhán shuddered as he took in the man’s ringed pupils. It was impossible to know if the man was joking or if he truly had the ability to sense such inclinations, but he really didn’t want to find out.
Before long, the students began to share the question papers, placing them upside down, and no matter how hard he tried to turn them over, they refused to budge, so he settled in to wait until they were given the go-ahead to begin.
The professors whispered among themselves for a few minutes, and a quarter hour later, the principal announced: “The duration of this trial is an hour. You may begin!”