We left the headmaster’s room and began our descent down the stairs. It seemed like the first lesson of the day had already begun, as the classroom doors were closed, and we could hear the muffled voices of teachers lecturing from within. The once-bustling halls were now quiet, save for a few cats lounging about, lazily napping in the patches of sunlight filtering through the windows.
We halted at the fifth floor, where a teacher stood in the corridor, casting a small fire spell to re-light a candle that had gone out. As the flame flickered to life, she adjusted her robe and offered us a warm smile.
“Well, hello,” she greeted, her tone light. “Liam. And you are?”
“Axel, ma’am,” I replied, giving a slight nod.
“Axel, nice to meet you,” she said with a friendly grin. “I’m July Canley.”
“Pleasure’s mine, ma’am,” I said.
“He’s here for the test, Ms. Canley,” Liam explained, his hands clasped behind his back. “Could we proceed now?”
“Absolutely,” Ms. Canley said, turning gracefully. “Follow me, both of you.”
Liam and I trailed behind her as she led the way at a steady pace. Ms. Canley was a strikingly young and beautiful woman, her long, dark hair flowing freely down her back. She wore a deep blue robe and dark gloves. A small dagger was fastened to her belt, its handle worn yet well-maintained, suggesting she knew how to handle it if needed.
“Where are we headed?” I asked, glancing around the unfamiliar surroundings.
“To assess your mana pool and abilities,” Ms. Canley responded without missing a beat, her tone calm and professional.
“May I ask a question, Ms. Canley?” I said, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“Of course,” she replied, briefly looking back over her shoulder, her gaze attentive.
“What if someone has... no mana at all? Is it still possible for them to cast spells?”
She gave a soft chuckle, shaking her head slightly. “That’s impossible, Axel,” she said. “Every living being has some amount of mana within them. Even the tiniest, most insignificant creatures like the mosquitoes you swat away in the summer.”
“Oh… I see,” I said, nodding slowly. “And, uh, have you ever heard of translucent boxes that show your stats? Like, health or stamina?”
Ms. Canley paused for a fraction of a second, her brows knitting slightly. “Translucent boxes? No, I can’t say I have,” she replied, looking genuinely puzzled.
“Right, got it. Thanks anyway, ma’am,” I said, tucking away my questions for later.
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After descending to the ground floor, we stepped outside through the back door, revealing a surprising sight. Another large building stood behind the main one, hidden from view until now, connected by a graceful stone bridge that arched over a gentle stream. The back garden was filled with lush greenery, and the view ahead was dominated by a dense forest, its towering trees creating a picturesque backdrop.
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We crossed the bridge and entered the second building, which, though slightly smaller than the main one, still impressed with its spaciousness. The hall was lined with glass cases displaying trophies and awards, some shining with gold and silver. Photographs adorned the walls, capturing the Academy’s history—students receiving accolades, teams celebrating victories, and moments that seemed to hold a legacy of excellence. The floor was polished to a gleam here too, reflecting the light streaming through tall windows.
“This way,” Ms. Canley instructed, her voice guiding us forward.
Liam closed the door behind us, and we took an immediate left, entering a long corridor that seemed to function like an indoor bridge. The arched windows on either side allowed a clear view of the garden below and the forest beyond, blending the natural and architectural beauty seamlessly.
At the end of the corridor, Ms. Canley led us through a lone door on the right. Inside, we found ourselves in a small, dimly lit room that looked more like a forgotten library than anything else. Dusty shelves lined the walls, filled with old books, while a few wooden tables stood against the corners, covered in a thin layer of dust. With a flick of her wrist, Ms. Canley brought the candles on the wall to life, their warm glow illuminating the space and casting flickering shadows on the stone floor.
“Sit wherever you’re comfortable, Axel,” Ms. Canley said with a calm smile. “We’re about to begin.”
“Right...” I murmured, trying to sound nonchalant as I took a seat on one of the chairs.
Ms. Canley’s smile grew a touch more sympathetic. “You’re not one to show excitement easily, are you? I remember my first test—I was trembling like a leaf.”
“I guess I’m just good at hiding it.”
Reaching into her pocket, Ms. Canley pulled out a small, thin sheet of paper. As I settled into the chair, she laid the paper carefully on my open palm—thankfully not on my injured hand. Pressing a finger to the centre of the paper, she closed her eyes for a few seconds, and the sheet began to glow, emitting a soft blue light. My palm started to burn, a searing pain spreading across my skin. I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to pull my hand away, my muscles tensing with the discomfort.
Ms. Canley and Liam exchanged a concerned look, their eyes flickering between the glowing paper and my strained expression. The paper’s light grew brighter, and strange symbols seemed to shift on its surface, though I couldn't make out what they were.
Finally, the glow dimmed, and the pain subsided. I exhaled sharply, letting out a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding.
“What was that?” I asked, shaking the tingling sensation from my hand.
“It’s not supposed to hurt,” Liam remarked, a puzzled frown creasing his brow. “That’s... unusual.”
“Indeed,” Ms. Canley murmured, examining the sheet with a mix of curiosity and concern. “Axel Millo. Height: 175 centimetres. Weight: 67 kilos. You have an affinity toward… nothing.”
“Affinity?” I repeated, trying to hide my disappointment.
“There are five main types of magic—Elemental, Nature, Arcane, Celestial, and Shadow,” Liam explained, pushing his glasses up his nose. “You show no natural affinity toward any of them. It’s... well, not ideal, to be honest.”
“And your mana,” Ms. Canley continued, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied the paper, “is extremely weak. Almost too weak to even register properly on this test.”
“Oh,” I said quietly, my suspicions confirmed about my poor magical potential. “Is that a bad sign?”
Ms. Canley gave me a strained smile, the kind that tried to be encouraging but didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Don’t lose heart. Mana levels can improve with time and training. You’re not stuck with what you have now.”
“Affinity toward nothing,” Liam muttered under his breath, his tone a mix of surprise and pity. He straightened up, turning to Ms. Canley. “Is the test complete, then?”
“Yes,” she confirmed, giving a small nod before flicking her wrist. The paper lifted into the air, igniting into a small flame before disintegrating into dust. “We’ll place him in Class F.”
“Class F it is,” Liam said, glancing back at me. “Come on, Axel. Let’s get you your uniform.”
I stood up, brushing off the lingering sting in my hand, and followed him with a silent nod, trying to muster a sense of resolve despite the disappointing news.