After a short break, the students gathered once more in the shimmering field. Professor Aldros stood before them with a proud smile, his robes flaring slightly in the breeze.
"The third exam," he announced, "is a Talent Showcase—where you will demonstrate a skill, ability, or magic you have mastered. Be it sorcery, swordplay, elemental control, musical talent, crafting—anything that reflects who you are."
He paused, floating higher so all could hear. "You will be judged not by the strength of your magic alone—but by creativity, control, and uniqueness."
The field transformed again, this time into a wide stage with shimmering light barriers separating each presentation area. Students would be called one by one to perform.
---
Talent Showcase
Elvren Halcrest went first. He stood tall, his crimson robe swirling. He summoned a fire phoenix from his palm, the blazing creature soaring high and circling the sky before exploding into glittering embers. The crowd gasped.
"Spectacular," murmured Professor Aldros. "9.5 out of 10."
Veyra Kelmire conjured a snow sculpture that moved—an ice dragon dancing in sync with her movements. The audience was stunned. Her talent was elegant, refined, and hauntingly beautiful.
Dornas Vayne, the brute, slammed the ground with a fire-forged hammer and created a controlled explosion that formed a temporary fiery rune beneath his feet. Loud, but precise.
Kyrien Duskmoor summoned a field of shadows, then stepped through his own silhouette and reappeared at another part of the platform. A refined use of spatial shadow manipulation.
Zen, watching all this, grew still.
---
Lyra's Performance
When Lyra's name was called, Zen gave her a quiet nod. "Good luck."
She smiled, hiding her nerves. "Watch me sparkle, jungle boy."
She stepped onto the stage.
Instead of dazzling flashes of destruction, Lyra's hands moved with soft grace. She began to chant quietly, and light green energy swirled around her fingertips. With a wave of her hand, a glowing healing aura spread through the air, gently surrounding a wounded mannequin that had been prepared for the exam.
The mannequin, once torn from battle, was quickly mended, its cuts and bruises fading away as if they had never been there. Lyra's magic was calming, like a gentle breeze, a soft healing touch that brought peace.
Her magic wasn't loud or explosive, but it was powerful in its own way—a talent that healed, restored, and gave life.
The audience, initially skeptical, now watched in awe. A few students gasped in admiration as the healing magic took effect so beautifully.
Professor Aldros nodded in approval. "An excellent display of control and compassion. Healing magic, though not flashy, is a vital force. 8.9 out of 10."
Lyra stepped down, looking back at Zen. She smiled—proud and flushed.
---
Zen's Turn
Then came the unexpected silence.
"Next: Zen," the professor called.
Zen stepped forward. There were murmurs already.
"That's the jungle boy," someone whispered.
"What's he going to do—climb a tree?"
Zen stood still in the center of the stage. He had no advanced spells. No illusion magic. No crowd-pleasing act.
He pulled out his sword—his only real friend through hardship—and began a blade form.
He moved with silence and precision. His footwork was clean, his strikes swift and controlled. His motions echoed discipline, and the audience could see years of survival in every slice.
But…
There was no flash, no magical flair. Just a 10-year-old swinging a sword in practiced patterns.
The crowd didn't cheer. They just watched.
Some nobles smirked.
Professor Aldros narrowed his eyes, studying carefully. "Hmm…"
Zen finished, sheathed his blade, and walked down without a bow or smile.
Lyra was waiting. "You were amazing," she said, softly.
"I was boring," Zen replied quietly, avoiding her eyes.
"You were real."
---
Reactions
Professor Aldros scribbled.
Zen: 6 / 10 – "Skilled technique, but lacked showmanship. Potential seen, but limited."
Whispers spread among the nobles.
"What kind of talent was that?"
"Just swinging a blade."
"He thinks he belongs here?"
But one or two students looked thoughtful—especially Kyrien, who simply said, "He's holding back."
---
Zen returned beside Lyra, silent again. She nudged his arm gently.
"You'll crush the next one. Trust me."
He said nothing. But her smile made his heart settle.