Saturday arrived, finally breaking the monotony of a grueling week of studying. For Towan, though, the weekend brought more anxiety than relief. Today was the day he promised Sylra he’d get his rank sorted out, a task that had been gnawing at him all week.
As much as he tried to play it off, Towan couldn’t shake the uneasy thought: if the rank turned out to be too high, it would draw attention—exactly the kind of attention he wanted to avoid.
“Something on your mind?” Elliot asked casually, keeping pace with Towan as they jogged their morning laps around the academy’s outer grounds.
“No, not really,” Towan replied, though his voice betrayed him. He hesitated for a moment before adding, “It’s just… Sylra insisted I use the Essentia Mediator today.”
“Oh.” Elliot shot him a sidelong glance. “Well, just skip the fights. No need to make a scene. I mean, after what happened at the tournament, I’m pretty sure we’re already on some people's radar.”
Towan let out a dry chuckle. “I thought I’d have to explain what that machine even does to you…” He had mentally prepared a long-winded explanation, half expecting Elliot to feign ignorance or tune out.
“Please.” Elliot smirked. “I’ve read about it. Plus, Alira explained it to me while you were busy having fun with Sylra.” His tone dripped with teasing, the sly grin on his face only making it worse.
“I—” Towan’s face flushed. He opened his mouth to protest but stumbled over his words.
“Anyway!” Elliot interrupted, laughing as if to spare Towan from further embarrassment. “Cafeteria now? We’ve run enough, and I’m starving.”
“Fine,” Towan muttered, glaring at the ground to hide the heat rising to his cheeks.
As they slowed to a walk toward the cafeteria, Towan couldn’t help but feel a pang of relief. Elliot’s teasing had momentarily eased his nerves, but the weight of the day’s task still loomed ahead.
They had a hearty breakfast, but Towan’s uneasiness only grew stronger as the moment approached. His mind buzzed with doubts, each bite of food doing little to settle his nerves.
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“Let’s just get it over with,” Elliot said suddenly, breaking the silence as he set his tray aside.
“What? Now?” Towan asked, almost choking on his drink.
“Yeah, why not?” Elliot replied with a shrug. “It’s better to deal with it now and have the rest of the day free. I’ve been wanting to explore the academy more—check out the library and places like that. Who knows? We might find something useful.”
Towan paused, thinking it over. “That’s… actually a good idea,” he admitted. Then his expression shifted as another thought crossed his mind. “What if we ask Rheon for advice while we’re at it? I mean, he’s not just anyone—he’s a former Essentia Warrior. He fought the Corruption itself back when it was at its peak, not just against people trying to use it. It must’ve been stronger back then.”
Elliot’s eyebrows raised slightly, intrigued. “Hmm, that’s a solid point. If anyone knows how to handle this stuff, it’s him.” He leaned back, starting to think aloud. “Maybe if we tell him Eryndar got us into the academy, we can get him to share some intel. I mean, a guy like that probably knows way more than he lets on.”
For a moment, both of them sat in silence, the weight of the possibilities settling over them. Towan couldn’t help but wonder what secrets Rheon might hold—and how much of them he’d be willing to share.
They walked for a few minutes before reaching the main training hall, the heart of the academy’s competitive spirit. This was where ranked fights took place—and where the imposing Essentia Mediator stood. The energy in the room was almost palpable, buzzing with anticipation and the hum of Essentia in use.
Almost every student seemed to be there, either sparring or watching the matches unfold. Conversations echoed from the edges of the hall, blending with the sounds of clashing techniques and bursts of energy. The room was vast, with a ceiling that stretched high above and walls lined with banners displaying the academy’s history of champions.
Scattered throughout the hall were multiple combat platforms, their surfaces a stark white. Yet, time and countless battles had left their mark—cracks, scuffs, and faint scorch marks told the stories of years of intense training. Each platform carried its own legacy, a reminder of the many students who had fought there, leaving their ambitions and struggles etched into the stone.
At the very center of the room stood the Essentia Mediator, the device that decided a student’s rank. The machine gleamed with a metallic sheen, its sleek design a stark contrast to the battered platforms surrounding it. A screen was embedded at the top, and just below it, a circular pad awaited the next challenger’s hand. The process was simple: place your hand on the pad, channel your Essentia into it, and watch as the screen displayed your rank—a single number that could either solidify your status or expose your weaknesses.
Towan paused as they approached, his nerves tightening at the sight of the Mediator. It was more intimidating than he’d imagined.