It had been nearly a week since his testing. Both of his parents had made the journey overland to the capital of Zerathus with him, and now they’d joined the sea of other teenagers and their families waiting outside the gleaming white stone of the portal station. The building’s clean, efficient architecture was pure Lexican—all straight lines and perfect angles—but somehow its pristine walls were more akin to a prison than a gateway.

Kor adjusted the strap on his backpack, its heavy load pulling his hunched figure into a painfully straight posture for once. His mother had packed it to bursting with everything she could think of—fresh robes, underwear, socks, toiletries, even his favourite childhood blanket stuffed somewhere near the bottom. He’d tried to protest that last addition, but she’d insisted with such fierce determination that he hadn’t had the heart to argue.

Kor scanned the crowd, noting the slumped shoulders and downcast eyes of his peers. He wasn’t the only one reeling from the testing crystal’s verdict. For years, his dreams had been so clear, joining the ranks of prestigious mathematicians like his father. Unravelling the mysteries of the universe through pure logic and precision. But when the crystal flared violet, it had ripped that dream apart. Magic had claimed him instead, chaotic and unpredictable, everything he’d worked to avoid.

He sighed and adjusted his glasses. There was no going back. The Conflux Academy was his last future now; and despite an embracing amount of time spent moping, he was going to make the best of it. Like any good mathematician, sometimes you had to know when to abandon a faulty line of thinking. He attempted to force some optimism; he was one of the most mana-gifted individuals on the planet and that had to count for something.

His mother brushed some non-existent dust off his robes, her hands trembling slightly. “Make sure you write to us, Kor. We’re going to be living on different planets now, but that won’t stop us from caring about you.”

“I know, Mom, I promise I’ll write.” He forced a smile for her sake.

His father chimed in, “Look on the bright side, Kor. Perhaps you’ll discover some kind of magic that can help with mathematics?”

Kor tilted his head to the side, his ponytail swaying with the movement. “Is that even possible?”

“Who knows? But any time I’ve heard those wizards talking, they wax eloquently about the mysterious nature of magic and its countless forms. I’ve heard of various types of wizards, from Fractal Dancers to Gravity Thieves—who’s to say there isn’t some kind of math magic out there?”

He knew his dad was just trying to help, and that was enough for him. “Thanks, Dad.”

He still had more he wanted to express, but something had caught the attention of the gathered mass of students and parents. Moments later, the grand doors to the facility opened, and a loud voice boomed over the amassed crowd: “Students only, please make your way inside as we prepare you for transit.”

Kor quickly gave his parents a joint hug, their joint strength threatening to crush him. His father’s familiar ink-stained fingers pressed into his back, and the smell of his mother’s lavender soap washed over him one last time.

“Even if this isn’t what you wanted,” his father said, “do your best, son. Apply yourself like you’ve done to mathematics, and anything is possible.”

They separated as his mother nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. “I’ll make you proud, both of you,” His voice cracking at the end. On the verge of being overcome by emotion, he turned and joined the stream of students heading inside, his wire-rimmed glasses fogging up with unshed tears.

Kor wiped his glasses clean with the sleeve of his robe as the wave of students carried him towards the open doorway. The crowd jostled him from all sides, his compact, rotund frame making him feel like driftwood caught in a tide of anxious teenagers. He clutched his backpack tighter, trying to maintain his footing on the polished stone floor as they entered the gleaming white building.

At five-foot-six, he was short, even by teenage standards. Many of the girls towered over him, making it impossible to see much beyond the backs of his fellow students. He struggled to stay afloat in the sea of movement, the weight of the crowd pushing and pressing ever onwards.

Thankfully, they didn’t have to travel far. The large corridor of the complex soon opened into a massive room dominated by the sight of the giant portal. The portal shimmered, suspended in a rectangular frame of gleaming blue metal, etched with runes that pulsed faintly with their own rhythm. Mesmerising patterns rippled on the liquid quicksilver surface, exuding a faint hum that seemed to resonate in Kor’s chest.

Even the air nearby carried the acrid tang of mana discharge, mingled with the ozone-like sharpness of active spells. The sight making his eyes water slightly, as if his brain couldn’t quite process what it was seeing.

As children, they’d all learned about the portal. A gateway to the world of Conflux, where the most gifted magical users of seven different planets gathered to study. He’d come to a halt, gawking, before a rough shoulder from behind sent him stumbling forward.

Before he could crash into the students ahead, a strong arm arrested his movement. “Whoa there, friend,” a confident voice cut through the din of teenagers.

Kor found himself steadied by a tall, athletic young man with golden-blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Everything about him radiated an easy confidence, from his perfect posture to his expertly tailored robes, complete with what appeared to be a silver signet ring.

“Thank you,” Kor managed, trailing off without a name to use.

“Marcus Tallow, at your pleasure,” the young man said, a brilliant smile lighting up his face.

“Thank you, Marcus. I’m Kor...” His voice trailed off as recognition dawned. Tallow—that surname rang a bell even for someone as insular as he. “Are you one of the Tallows?”

Marcus laughed, the sound somehow both charming and practised, but before he could respond, another voice thundered across the amassed teenagers. “Make your way to the officers up front and prepare your badges for inspection!”

The command brought Kor’s hand automatically to the badge he’d been issued at the testing centre almost a week ago.

Marcus solid hand gripped Kor’s shoulder. “Let’s stick together, hmm?” Marcus said, clapping Kor’s shoulder like they were lifelong friends. His grin gleamed like polished silver. “I’ve got a knack for spotting talent, and you, my friend, look like you could use a guide through this madness.”

Kor bobbed his head in agreement, hardly believing that he’d practically run into a celebrity. The Tallows owned half the businesses in his hometown, and even here in the capital, they were one of the foremost families. He trailed in Marcus’s wake as they moved forward, the taller boy’s presence naturally parting the crowd before them.

Somehow, despite the sheer weight of numbers, Marcus guided them to the front of the queue without a single question being raised as Kor followed in the taller boy’s shadow. Though given Marcus’s size and stature, perhaps Kor ought to be thinking of him as a man. He shook the idle thought away as one of the government officials waved a magic crystal over their badges.

This close to the portal, he could make out the countless array of military personnel guarding it—a mixture of wizards in flowing robes and soldiers dressed in traditional steel armour, their halberds held at the ready. The air seemed to crackle with power.

The checkpoint guards directed them towards the shimmering mass of quicksilver after they passed through. Marcus waited a few paces ahead, completely unfazed by the otherworldly sight. “Come along, Kor, let’s see what Conflux has in store for us.”

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Marcus barely spared a glance backward as he strode confidently into the portal. Kor hurried to catch up, not giving himself time to think as he, too, stepped into the silvery liquid.

Strange sensations instantly inundated his mind. Time seemed to stretch out as he felt his body moving, but not physically. In the transition between worlds, something brush against his mind, familiar and closer than ever. ‘Soon, Kor,’ came the whisper once again.

The experiences defied explanation as, a mere instant later, he emerged on the other side. The potent mana of Conflux washed over him like opening the door to an oven. Heavy and intense. Unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

As Conflux came into focus, his breath caught in his chest. Towers of gleaming crystal and shimmering stone twisted skyward, their surfaces alive with runes and shifting colours. Bridges arched impossibly between the spires, many bustling with people. Mana coursed visibly through the air, creating iridescent trails that flickered in and out of existence.

His chest tightened. How could one city hold so much energy, so much life? He felt overwhelmingly small, as if the weight of it all might crush him. His fingers clenched the straps of his backpack, grounding him in the tangible. One step at a time. Just breathe.

Marcus suffered no such trepidation, stepping ahead, his expression unruffled. “Fantastic. Conflux certainly lives up to its name as the home of magic, wouldn’t you say, Kor?”

“Y-Yes,” he said, his voice weak as the sheer sensory overload threatened to overwhelm him. His knees wobbled, and he had to resist the urge to hunch his shoulders against the pressing weight of mana.

“Move along now,” came the voice of another guardsman, his accent and pale skin distinctly unlike any Kor had ever encountered before. As Marcus and he headed down the ramp, Kor couldn’t help but notice how his new companion’s stride remained perfectly measured, as if the overwhelming magic of Conflux was nothing more than a gentle breeze.

Someone quickly directed them to a courtyard of smooth stone where other students waited, their expressions a mirror of Kor’s own as they gawked at the magical city of Conflux. Taking their positions with the rest, Kor had a better chance to observe their surroundings.

Like an onion peeling back its layers, each moment revealed new wonders. Even here by the portal, he could see countless uses of mana that would have practically beggared any but the richest families back home. Enchantments illuminated the buildings, and the streets pulsed with ethereal light. The people, though, were as unfamiliar as the magic itself.

Men and women of every creed and colour moved through the streets. He’d understood abstractly that Conflux was home to wizards from seven different planets, but seeing it for himself was something else entirely. Visitors between worlds weren’t exactly common, especially back home in Lexica. He’d seen a few Solarians from time to time, their two worlds often engaging in trade. But their fair-featured faces were a stark contrast to the kaleidoscope of peoples on display here.

More and more students continued to pour through the portal as Marcus spoke. “Did you know that the portal from Conflux only opens to our planet once a week, Kor, and that only those gifted with high levels of mana such as ourselves are even permitted entry?”

“I’d heard something about that,” Kor said as Marcus carried on, shaking his head.

“Even my father could not secure passage here. Just think of all the valuable connections we’ll be able to make.” Marcus’s eyes seemed to glow with passion as he observed the surroundings with a predatory eagerness.

A few minutes passed as the remaining Lexican students passed through the portal until they were all rounded up and escorted further into the city, passing countless casual displays of magic that left the mind boggling. As they followed the road, Kor realised that he’d missed perhaps the two most obvious sights.

The crystal spire—the Nexus, as he heard another student call it—reached up from the centre of the city, easily several hundred feet tall. Its brilliant red surface dominated the skyline, seeming to pulse with an inner light that matched the rhythm of the city’s magical heartbeat. Supposedly, it changed colour on a regular basis.

Beyond the spire that towered over the city, and past the magical barrier that surrounded it, hung two blazing stars. One burned much brighter than the other, both completely unlike the sun back home. Their combined light cast strange, shifting shadows that danced across the iridescent buildings.

Kor followed along, trying not to gawk too obviously at the Nexus. Surprisingly, the past week had given him enough time to come to terms with his fresh path. Kor adjusted his glasses, his mind replaying the moment the testing crystal flared violet. He’d always believed his path lay in mathematics. Numbers were safe, reliable. Magic, on the other hand—magic defied rules. Yet, as he gazed at Conflux’s living skyline, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this chaos had been waiting for him all along.

Even if he couldn’t pursue the calling he’d chosen, he wasn’t about to give this new endeavour anything less than his best. His parents had taught him better than that. Still, the spire’s red glow reminded him of the testing crystal that had changed his life, wondering if perhaps there was some connection between the two.

A tall, severe-looking woman with silver-streaked hair turned to the group. “Inside, all of you,” her voice carrying over the murmur of students. “Take your seats quickly and quietly.” The mass of students filtered through the entrance, a collective surge of nervous energy.

He’d barely got a grip on the sensory overload as they headed inside a large auditorium. The ceiling soared impossibly high above them, enchanted to display a brilliant starry sky that seemed more real than any planetarium Kor had ever visited. Row upon row of seats stretched out before them. More than enough to house their number several times over.

Marcus led the two of them down to the front-row, as Kor relieved himself of his heavy pack. His mother certainly hadn’t left anything unpacked.

The marble amphitheatre’s last empty seats filled as a figure ascended the crystalline steps to the stage. His pitch-black robes caught the light from floating orbs overhead, revealing intricate purple swirls that writhed like living things across the fabric. Kor’s eyes watered as he tried to track their movement, and he found himself grateful for his front-row seat—even if it meant being closer to whatever powers this man commanded.

“First Magus.” The title passed through the crowd reverently, the murmur spreading from row to row like a wave as the man approached a podium carved from a single piece of opalescent stone. Kor was sure he’d heard the title before, but in matters of magic, he was woefully ill-informed.

“Citizens of Lexica, I bid you welcome to Conflux.” The First Magus’s voice resonated with a warmth that filled the amphitheatre, banishing whispers into silence. “You stand on the precipice of a journey that few will ever know—a path paved with promise and peril alike.”

“Each of you has been chosen because you possess something extraordinary. Mana courses through your veins, a gift and a burden in equal measure. You are here to harness it, to turn potential into power. But let me be clear: your path will not be easy.”

The room seemed to hold its breath as the Magus raised one hand, and the enchanted ceiling above shifted. Stars dimmed, their light swallowed by a spreading darkness. From its depths emerged writhing tendrils of flame, their black and violet hues flickering with an otherworldly hunger.

“This is the Void,” he began, his voice heavy with unyielding authority. “An ancient enigma that defies understanding, an unmaking of reality itself. It is hungry. And as the balance of magic grows fragile, it has begun to encroach on our worlds.”

The illusion shifted, and within the darkness came shapes—monstrous, skittering forms with too many eyes and not enough faces. They emerged like nightmares from the ether, their movements deliberate, their gaze piercing. The creatures roiled and clawed, drawn toward a bright core of shimmering mana. The students tensed as the beasts lunged, only to recoil as the light flared brighter, repelling them in a blaze of brilliance.

“Voidlings,” the Magus continued, his gaze unyielding. “Predators drawn to the mana-rich worlds of the Voidflame Edict. They seek to consume what we create, to unmake what we build. And yet, like moths to a flame, their hunger is their undoing. Magic repels them just as surely as it attracts them. This is why you have been chosen. Because your magic is not only a beacon—it is a weapon.”

The crowd stirred uneasily. A faint murmur rippled through the students. Kor felt his stomach churn as the images loomed above, and to his left, a girl muttered a silent prayer. Marcus, by contrast, leaned forward, his blue eyes gleaming. “Now this,” he whispered, “is getting interesting.”

The First Magus’s voice cut through the unrest like a blade. “It is why Conflux exists. The Voidflame Edict binds the seven great worlds together, compelling us to pool our knowledge and strength. Here, you will become the protectors of tomorrow—you, the guardians of magic, the architects of a future free from this shadow.”

His gaze swept the crowd. “Yes, you are at a disadvantage. As Lexicans, your mastery of mana is nascent compared to your peers from mana-rich worlds. But do not mistake this for weakness. Yours is a mind sharpened by logic, innovation, and resolve. These are your tools. Wield them wisely, and you may yet defy even the Void.”

The illusory flames and Voidlings above dimmed as the Magus spread his arms wide. “Your task is monumental. But so is your potential. Prove to us, to yourselves, that you are worthy of this mantle. The future of seven worlds may one day rest on your shoulders. Study hard. Persevere.”

The image behind the First Magus winked out as he gestured to another man who’d walked on stage. “Dean Velleth will conclude your introductions to Conflux. I leave you now in his care—May your mana run true.” He intoned before departing, the terrible images of Voidling invaders fading into nothingness as he stepped away.

A bald man in an austere robe stepped up to the podium as Marcus turned to Kor, flashing a cocky grin. “It seems we’ve got our work cut out for us, doesn’t it, Kor?”

Kor nodded mutely, still grappling with the weight of the Magus’s words. Days ago, he’d been worried about mathematical problems. Now, the fate of seven worlds rested, however distantly, on his shoulders.