Arakar squinted down from his balcony at the top of the tower. Frowning, he watched as the latest batch of recruits arrived. In years gone by, there would have been a flood of wannabe initiates all seeking the same thing: power. But now there was only a lonely wagon travelling along the road. 

Drawing a sliver of magic into himself, he enhanced his vision, inspecting the potential recruits.

So few. 

He reached out with his telepathic arts and skimmed their minds, reading their intent. 

So eager, but that will soon change. 

Shaking his head, his vision returned to normal. He left the balcony of his private rooms, returning to the comforts inside. As Master of the Tower, he lived in the uppermost level. From beyond the tower, the structure appeared slender, with little space to accommodate even a single wagon. But the tower could utilise more than one plane of existence, and the space inside shifted according to Arakar's needs. 

The tower was one of many belonging to the Elemental Order, which was an ancient order devoted to the arcane arts and maintaining the balance of the world. They were a neutral group, well respected throughout the world. 

Arakar cast aside all thoughts of the students. They had their own testing to contend with before their studies could begin. As Master of the Tower, he would play no part in the direct instruction of the initiates.

His own research beckoned. A scrying bowl lay on the table in his study. So far, his divinations attempts had all been shrouded in darkness. The mysteries of the future remained hidden from him, but that didn’t stop him from trying. 

The balance of the world was changing. He could sense it; the other masters could sense it, too. The question remained where the balance would shift and which nation would be in favour. As always, the order would keep to their neutrality as best they could and try to steer the world away from disaster. 

As his mind pondered the nature of the world and the forces at work within it, he couldn't help but wonder as to the future of the Elemental Order. With constant wars engulfing the lands of men, their numbers had dropped with every passing year. Each loss was felt tenfold.

We will endure. We must.

Holding his hand above the ornate bronze bowl, he channelled magic. Twisting the elements together into a complex pattern, he laid the spell across the bowl's surface. A rippling effect played across its shimmering face as the chaotic strands of time were laid bare to him. Sitting down, he leaned forward, casting his mind out as he did so. His spirit simulacrum left his body to delve into the murky depths of the void. 

* * *

Tomean groaned in pain. He believed joining the Elementals would be all fun and games. In his fantasy adventures, he saw himself throwing around balls of fire and performing all kinds of magical feats. But his current reality was as far from that as possible. He laboured along with the others from his wagon as they broke their backs carrying boulders from one useless pile to the next. It was an exercise in futility. 

He stole a glance at the teachers watching to ensure no one shirked from the task. One teacher drew his attention — an odious, withered man nearing the end of his allotted years. He seemed to take great pleasure in administering his own form of discipline. Whenever he believed any of them were slacking, he alternated between firing short bolts of energy at his students and cracking streams of magic above their heads, watching with satisfaction as it showered them with sparks. Each disciplinary action emphasized his point: get back to it. Nothing caused lasting injury, but the pain was enough to inspire cooperation. 

This is stupid. Once we're done moving this pile, they'll order us to move it back. Again. 

This continued all day; the steady beat of the sun's rays on their bent backs and the continuous exercise left them all ragged. The five teachers were led by the ancient-looking whip-cracker, and none of them said much beyond basic instructions. They didn’t need to. Each of the hopeful aspirants knew this was but the first hardship they would endure. A test — nothing more, nothing less. 

But you will need more than a few rocks to break me down.

The exercise served its purpose, and by the end of the first day, they had their first dropout. With their group reduced to six, they were ordered to abandon the rocks and allowed to retire for the day. They walked back to the tower in silence. 

Tomean didn’t bother asking the names of his fellows; their group would be further whittled down. He would save introductions for when only the worthy remained. 

As weary as he was from the day's labour, he stood straight as he walked back inside, refusing to show any weakness. Watching the first dropout being led away strengthened his resolve.

He made a vow as he crossed the threshold. That won’t be me.

* * *

The second day proved similar with hours of pointless exercise. They were led to a more vibrant location unlike the barren plains of the day before. The task was to dig a hole, but they were given no explanation or reasoning. A small, worn shovel was thrust into his hand, and the teacher simply pointed at the ground. Hefting the old tool, he noted the faded colour of its worn shaft and its inadequate length. 

A tool fit for a child, not a man. Yet I wonder how many fruitless holes it has been made to dig in service to such an esteemed order. 

He was certain its size was just another tactic to increase the stress on their bodies. He'd tried his hand at a great number of vocations, and he was no stranger to hard labour. With a correctly sized shovel, the task would have been easy. Before he began, he looked at his fellow hopefuls as they, too, were handed small shovels. 

Have they worked this all out yet?

Before the instructors could flog him with a magical tendril of hardened air, he stooped and broke the surface of the wet soil with the little shovel. 

At least it's not the dusty plains of yesterday.

The tower was a beacon of power in the land — a testament to the might of the Elements — and the surrounding grounds were evidence. North of the tower was the barren, rock strewn plains, devoid of life. Yet, to the east, the soft black soil was rich with vegetation. South of the tower, golden, sandy beaches shimmered in the sun as waves broke upon the shore. The sea boomed with life, and fishermen plied their trade in its wild waters. The naïve  assumed this part of the world was paradise, a place one could forget the problems of the world. But even beautiful places had their vices; evil wasn't to be found only in dark caves and creepy forests. That line of thought brought with it painful memories, but Tomean forced them away and focused on the rhythm of digging, losing himself in the simple task. 

By the end of the day, his previously calloused hands were blistered, his blood enriching the weathered colouring of the wooden handle, joining the blood of countless others before him.

I wonder if any of these teachers ever held these tools?

Unheard communication passed between their watchers, and they gave the signal to stop for the day. They passed a water skin to each of them and told them to drink their fill. Tomean sipped the cold liquid, allowing it to soothe his aching body. As he drank, he thought of home, of all the trouble there. War, it seemed, was everywhere. Each time one ended, another began. It was an endless cycle of death and destruction, and it gave him another reason to pursue life as an Elemental. So far, the order had yet to join the wars, sticking to their tenet of neutrality. 

He didn't know too much of its history, but he knew the Elemental Order possessed a diverse makeup of cultures with members from many countries and city-states. Once accepted, members renounced all past ties. There was a special dispensation toward family if those connections did not involve politics. 

However, Tomean wasn’t naïve. The Elemental Order was powerful, but it wasn't the most powerful entity. Eventually, they would be forced into war just like everyone else. All he could hope for was to avoid it for as long as possible. 

Some were calling this period of time the Great War; others were calling it the Last War or the War to End All Wars. But he tried not to dwell on it. He had travelled many miles and endured many hardships to make it this far, to a place where he could avoid the war all together. If he hadn’t left his home, he would have been made into a pawn. His life would have been spent by godlike masters who orchestrated destruction in their grasping of power. The people were nothing more than playthings on a map to them. 

If I am to play the game, then I will do so as more than a pawn.

It surprised him when no one quit that day, for that was the purpose of the tasks. The menial labour tested their mental resolve, pushing them toward the breaking point. Only the strongest of minds could join the order. 

It will take more than moving some rocks or scooping some mud to break me. 

They were dismissed for the day, and still, no one spoke. Instead, they washed, ate, and retired to their beds early in preparation of the next trial. 

The rest of the week passed in similar fashion. By the end, only four young men, all of different origins, remained out of the original seven. Tomean still hadn’t bothered to get to know any of them, not yet. He expected there to be a real test at some point, something magical in nature.

Otherwise, why are we here?

Tonight, something was different in the way the air moved, in the way their teachers watched. They were ushered into the usual dining hall. Tomean scanned the room for the source of the dissonance. Everything looked the same, including the fare.

Is my mind finally playing tricks on me?

He looked at his companions, sitting around the table, eating in silence. For a moment, he regretted not speaking with them earlier. A great need to experience human connection came over him, and he suddenly wanted to learn who the other three men were. One of them looked up at him, and their eyes met briefly before they both returned to focusing on their meal. 

Did I see the same curiosity about me that I have about him? 

He shook off the feeling that he and the stranger had been of one mind for a split second. Now wasn't the time for such thoughts of madness. 

After the meal, a new teacher arrived, one they hadn't seen before. “Greetings. I am Master Nurin, of the Order.” His accent revealed he wasn’t native to the common tongue. 

Tomean appraised the newcomer. His skin was the colour of bronzed copper, and his hair dark and flowing. 

He must hail from the desert. Ghalafein maybe?

He knew little of the Ghalafein culture except that it was rumoured to have seas of flowing golden sands. Sand boats propelled by magic were supposed to sail its burning waves. He had never ventured that far out, so he'd never confirmed those tales. 

Tomean nodded in greeting but stayed silent, as did the others. He felt the dark eyes of Master Nurin pierce through him and then move on to the next, as if weighing the merits of each of them. 

“Tomorrow, the real testing begins," the master said. "As part of the order, you will need many qualities. You have shown patience and some resilience, but that is nothing compared to what we will expect of you. Tomorrow you will undergo a different type of test, a test that requires total surrender and the acceptance of pain. It will be about sacrifice.” He paused for effect before continuing. “But be warned, once started, there can be no coming back. Failure will mean death, if you’re lucky. You have the night to think about your choices. Your future. In the morning, you will be asked if you want to continue one more time. After that, there is no turning back. There is no shame in refusing.” His coal-like eyes fixated on each of them in turn. "Do any of you wish to leave tonight?" 

A strange pressure formed at Tomean's temple, but he brushed it off as a side effect of his physical exhaustion. 

Master Nurin gave them a satisfied nod. “Very well. Use tonight to meditate. Empty yourself of all emotion, examine your feelings, your thoughts, and your desires. Tomorrow, a new chapter begins.” With that, he left them. 

Tomean shared an uneasy glance with his companions. The one with shorter hair looked as if he wanted to speak, but the other two stood abruptly and left for the sleeping quarters. Tomean offered a nod to the man, one he hoped conveyed his thoughts. Good luck. The man nodded back and left. 

Left alone in the dining area, he considered his life, what it meant to him to be in the order, and what would happen if he walked away. To him, there was no choice. He would be master of his own fate, and to do that, he needed to be free of his old life. 

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

He returned to his bed along with the others, but his mind refused to settle. His thoughts drifted back to the many problems of the world. The Elemental Order was the only sanctuary left, the only respite from the bloodshed, that he'd been able to find. In his youth, the war had been on the fringes of his society, and he'd believed it would stay there. But as time went on, no one was spared. His people were forced to join in the war just like everyone else. 

Tomean turned his thoughts to his travels, to the spaces he'd found between battles. He daydreamed of his adventures and succumbed to the sweet embrace of sleep. No sooner had his eyes closed that the night was over, and it was time to rise. The sleep he managed to claim did little to nourish his body. Anxious, he found he could stomach no food.

When a teacher came for them, Tomean and the others were led to a new part of the tower. He observed carefully, trying to remember the twists and turns of the halls. From the outside, the tower appeared small and incapable of holding more than a few rooms. However, the route they took contradicted that notion. It was like a warren, and he soon lost track of his whereabouts.

What magic is this? He had never heard of anything like it. 

As was normal for him, he considered countless scenarios, imagining what the test could be. Each iteration came with a darker twist, the outcome worse than the last. He tried to force himself away from such negative thoughts, they wouldn’t serve him well in his upcoming test.  

After being led deep into the tower, they came to a simple wooden door. 

“Stay still.” The teacher commanded. He placed his hand against the door, and a glow spread from his hand. The teacher nodded, as if satisfied, and opened the door. 

Inside, the room was bare. The walls were bare, stone blocks, the floor solid stone of the same colour.  A sole object drew Tomean's gaze. 

A large, glass ball was cradled by a golden stand at chest height; it  captured and reflected the white flame blazing from a wall sconce that was the sole source of light. It mesmerised him, enticing him closer with invisible lines of power. He could have sworn the light danced at their presence. A quick look confirmed the strange orb also captivated the others. The light flared and then faded, the ball fading to a more mundane presentation of clear glass.

The teacher stepped past them and motioned for them to gather around the orb. “The test is simple. What you see before you is the Lapistra, the testing stone. We call items like these cognitones. This one is a conduit of sorts. To begin, all you need to do is touch it. But once you do so, it will bind to you. 

"Touch is the first sign of surrender, but you must surrender in mind as well as body. That is most important. Prepare for tremendous pain. It will become worse the longer you resist; relief requires complete surrender. Many candidates struggle with this concept, but it is an important lesson. You must learn to surrender to the arcane arts if you want to master them.” 

Tomean listened with rapt attention. His whole body tensed with anticipation, and his heart raced with the desire to pass the test.

The teacher continued. “If you do not surrender, the pain will increase tenfold. If you survive, we will accept you into the order to begin your training. 

"But beware, the Lapistra works by channelling vast amounts of magic through you. This affects everyone in different ways. Some even receive unique abilities. If you’re lucky, maybe you'll receive more than one. Whatever the outcome, it will change you forever, and in my opinion, it will be for the better. But you could also die here today. So, I will offer one last chance to leave. If you wish to stay, step forward when ready and begin your testing.”

The teacher stopped and looked at each of them, as if expecting one of them to withdraw. With silence as his answer, he bowed to them. “I wish you luck.” With that, he left the room. 

The four of them stood in silence, waiting to see who would move first. Though the moment was likely only a minute, it stretched on as if time had slowed, as if they would be standing there forever in silence, no one moving. 

“Well, I didn’t come all this way for nothing.” Tomean stepped forward, and as he did, the light reappeared in the orb. The Lapistra, the testing stone,, he corrected himself. Again, the flickering light captured his attention. The others standing in the room with him faded. Feeling a yearning deep within, he stretched his hand toward the glass surface. 

His limbs felt sluggish, as if mired in a spell. His vision distorted; all he could see was the Lapistra. Sound warped, leaving the beating of his heart loud in his ears. 

The distance between him and the orb seemed a mile, every movement agonizingly slow as he reached for the smooth surface.  When his fingers finally pressed against glass, an icy blaze raced through his fingers, into his body, and straight to his heart. He gasped in shock; it was as if he had taken a plunge into frigid waters. Sharp pain he'd expected and received, but the cold burn spreading over his body shocked his system. 

The current raced to his brain and exploded. His thoughts scattered, and everything became jumbled as filaments of power burned their way through his mind. His world became pain; in that moment, he was no longer Tomean. 

The room faded, as did his awareness of everything else. His very existence was distilled into pure torment. The agony ebbed and flowed as the power surged through him like a raging river. 

The magic reshaped him, but somehow, he could also reshape it. He could see, feel, and hear everything, but he had little control. He was a passenger in his own mind. He had to fight to preserve something of himself.  

Time meant nothing. He measured his life in the push and pull of the power of magic. He watched how it was shaped and used, and he learnt from it. His surroundings weren’t important. Only the knowledge to be unlocked by magic held significance. 

In the study of the threads of magic forming and unravelling in his mind, the sensation of pain receded, his mortal body forgotten. 

A speck of pleasure formed within him, and it grew into euphoria. It became all-consuming. The need for more pushed him to new heights. He became the pleasure; it was everything. In that moment, if given a choice, he would have left his mortal coil behind to stay in this existence of eternal pleasure. 

Without warning, it ended. Ripped from its embrace, he collapsed.

Again, he could feel the sensations of the corporeal world. Despair washed over him, numbing him. He was an echo of what he could be. 

Cold, hard reality was a weight around his neck. 

He breathed, but the sensation was strange to him.  With a ragged shudder, he sucked in a deep breath. His muscles spasmed, and control returned. He flexed his fingers first and then his toes. All was in order. There was no pain. His mind was a different matter, still jumbled and fragile. 

The ceiling above was unfamiliar, but soft bedding cushioned him beneath.

I’m on a bed. 

The thought sounded loud in his own head. It didn’t feel right.

Why am I on a bed?

They had covered him with a thin sheet. A quick look confirmed he was still clothed. 

What’s going on? Is this a part of the test?

His broken memories knitted together. He remembered the orb, the cognitone as someone had called it. Then, he remembered pure bliss. Sadness that he'd left it behind filled him with a hollow ache, and a longing he didn't know how to fulfil overwhelmed him.

I need more; I need to feel that again.

* * *

Pelexian watched the scene unfold through the surface of water within his scrying bowl. As a teacher within the tower, his task this day was to monitor the testing. He could do little to intervene once it had begun; no one could, not without catastrophic consequences. The cognitone was an open conduit to magic. If someone was powerful enough to break this connection, the backlash would destroy them all. As far as he knew, no one had ever tried. 

Students either passed the test, died, or ended up somewhere between, their minds gone but their bodies still functional. Pelexian considered the last to be worse than death.

He leaned further over the scene playing out before him. Tomean was the only one still touching the orb. The others had passed the test and moved on. 

Something's wrong. 

Using his own arts, he could sense a vast amount of energy being channelled through the man. It was tremendous, more than anyone had handled for a long, long time. 

But there was more.

He sensed something else; intuition made him scrutinise further. Tell-tale spasms in the muscles around Tomean’s face and neck hinted at the pain he endured. He watched, noting the time from the sands falling in a mechanical clock in the corner of his study.

It's almost as if he is enjoying this. He mused as he stared at Tomean’s face as the look of pain was replaced with the barest hint of a smile. That's it!

It was rare, and he had known no one who suffered from such an ailment. But he had read about it. Running his hand through his hair, he watched on. 

This is sheer madness. 

He removed his personal grimoire from the desk drawer and flipped to the next empty page. Holding his hand above the paper, he whispered a Word of Power. A faint glow enveloped his hand and the book below. Forming the words in his mind, he willed them into existence, scribing his thoughts onto the waiting page.

“Fascinating.” Neat glowing runes populated his grimoire as he recorded his thoughts. Done, he clenched his fist, ending the spell, and leaned back in his chair. “I need to inform Arakar.” 

He pinged a mental question towards the Elemental Master’s chambers, where it met resistance from a protection ward. Arakar would know of his message and would seek him out when ready. 

Looking back through the bowl, he realised the power flowing through the initiate and the orb had lessened. The test was drawing to a close. 

As the last remnants of power winked out, Tomean dropped to the floor, no longer held upright by the Lapistra. Pelexian sent a mental command to a waiting man. 

He watched as the door opened, and two members of the order entered on his command. They scooped up the now unconscious man and took him from the room. 

Pelexian shook his head and dispelled the image of the room in his scrying bowl with a wave of his hand. 

“Poor man. If he survives this, he will be tainted forever. Enslaved to the very thing from which he draws his strength. Addicted to magic.” 

* * *

Tomean sat up, the movement causing his head to swell with pressure. The sensation dissipated after a few deep breaths. He pulled off the sheet and gathered himself. After another minutes' rest, he swung his legs off the bed and planted his feet on the ground. They still felt too weak to take his weight. He sat there, swaying, and then he sensed the aura of another. 

A man stood in the doorway. “You’re awake.”

“Clearly.”

“How do you feel?”

Tomean ignored the question and tried standing on his own. For a moment, he was triumphant, but his shaky legs soon gave way and deposited him back on the bed. Frowning, he tried again. On the third attempt, he kept his balance and grew stronger with each passing second. The man came and offered his hand to assist. 

Tomean eyed it, before waving the offer away.

“Very well.” 

His mind still felt fragile. The memories were all there but jumbled and out of order. 

“Do you remember who you are?”

“Yes. Of course. But who are you?”

“I am of the Elemental Order.”

“The Elemental Order?” Tomean struggled to comprehend. Now that means something. But what?

As he sifted through his memories, another sensation invaded his mind and demanded his attention.

What is that?

It was something new. He flexed the strange new muscle, and strange scents came to him. He struggled to find the right words to describe it. 

Is that magic?

It was an intoxicating smell. He'd been changed. The Lapistra had opened him to the hidden world of magic. His new sense hungrily drank in his surroundings and was drawn to the source — the stranger who'd come to visit.

Am I sensing his magic?

The man frowned at his appraisal, and the scent of magic changed before disappearing. Now, he couldn't feel anything emanating from the man, and his body reacted to the loss. The hairs on his arm stood on end, and a violent shiver rolled up and down his body.

Without the man's magical aura enticing him, he turned his attention outwards. Closing his eyes, he explored his new skill. The world was awash with power. He could sense it all around, swirling in the fabric of the surrounding universe. 

Raw and unbridled power. Magic.

But he could not reach it. It was there but beyond his grasp. It teased him, taunted him, but evaded him. He reached for it with his mind, his hands stretching outward. Without knowing what he did, a raging current raced into him, exploding along his veins. 

He smiled with satisfaction. But it wasn’t enough; it was a drop in the ocean compared to what had flowed through him earlier. But he chased it anyway, hoping to hit that highest of highs again. 

A cuff to the back of his head severed his connection, and the world became drab and empty again.

“Hey–” he began.

“Stop that!" The man narrowed his eyes in disapproval. "We don’t walk around holding magic. If you’re well enough for that, then you are well enough to follow me.” 

Tomean curbed his temper and nodded. The man grunted in approval and strode out of the room. As Tomean followed, he tried again to drink from the well of power that was all around him. A trickle of warmth flowed into him as he achieved his goal. Not knowing what else to do, he just held it inside, savouring the feeling. 

“I told you we don’t walk around holding magic,” the man said. “This is the last warning. If I sense you doing it again, I will punish you.” The man stared at him until Tomean released the trickle of energy he was holding.

Without another word, he followed his guide. The room they took him to wasn't much different from the one he’d just left. Instead of a bed, there were padded chairs arrayed in a semicircle. The man ushered him to one and warned him again about trying to hold magic, and then he left. 

Still not feeling himself, Tomean took a seat, settling into the cushioned softness. Closing his eyes, he tried to impose order on the disarray that was his mind. He felt better than before; it was almost as if he could feel the interlocking fragments of his psyche shift together. It left him with a dull headache. 

He remembered the test, reaching out and touching the glass surface of the Lapistra.

What happened after that, he was unsure. But he had experienced something better than anything he'd ever experienced before. 

From all the books he'd read and people he'd talked to, never once had he heard anything about how magic really felt. Some spoke of control, surrender, and mastery of the arcane arts, but no one mentioned the pure pleasure. He craved its hot caress. 

He retraced the days leading up to the test, and he could remember each one, though some events were hazier than others. 

My full memory will come in time. Opening his eyes again, he looked at the remaining three chairs. All empty. The stone walls were bare and dull. There was no hearth, no fire to comfort him, though he wasn't cold. 

Four of us took the test. But where are the others?

He considered the fact they may have all perished, and for a second, he felt sadness. He didn’t know them, but if they had passed the test together, they would have had a kinship. 

Maybe they’ve already recovered and are waiting elsewhere. I’ll go find them. 

But before Tomean could stand, two men led one of the other initiates  into the room. One look at his face revealed something was amiss. He stumbled, his face slack and without expression. His eyes were dull and lifeless. The two men of the order positioned him opposite Tomean, physically manipulated his limbs so that he sat in the chair, and stepped back. He didn’t resist their hands upon his body, instead staring ahead without seeming to actually see. His body slumped over a little in the chair, and a thin line of drool escaped from his mouth. The man was but a husk, a shell of his former self. 

Is he burnt out by magic?  Tomean had read about that once, but he'd never seen someone afflicted by the condition. He shuddered, but he couldn't help but wonder: Did you feel its divine beauty like I did? 

He stared for a moment as the man barely took a breath. Almost as if the basic functions of the body were lost to him. Tomean stood and approached the comatose man, but his eyes didn’t focus or acknowledge his presence at all. 

“Can you hear me?” he asked, not expecting a response, aware of the two men of the order watching from the doorway. He leaned closer and whispered into the man's ear. “Did you feel it too?” But there was no response. Straightening himself, he turned toward the doorway. “I remember who I am now. You don’t need to keep me in here with him.” He was keen to leave and forget what he had seen here. 

The two men shared a look before the taller one answered. “You are to be kept here for now. The Master of the Tower is being informed of the situation.”

“What situation? I passed the test, did I not?”

“Well, yes, you did. At least, you are not dead, and you're still functioning.. But… we were instructed to take you here.” 

“Why? Where are the other two initiates?” Tomean demanded.

“They’re elsewhere…” The man’s voice trailed off. He cocked his head as if someone whispered in his ear. Nodding, he bowed to Tomean. “My apologies. I will take you to the others at once.” 

Both men turned to leave, clearly expecting Tomean to follow behind. 

He eagerly left the room. “So, I passed?”

“Yes… you did.”

Relief flooded Tomean. He had other questions about what had happened. He gathered from their reactions that something about his testing was different. He allowed himself a smile; he would bide his time. Answers would come. He'd passed the test, which meant he would begin his magical training. Now, more than ever, that was all he wanted.