The first light of dawn filtered through the stone-framed windows of the dormitory, casting soft orange bands across the rough floor. Reed stirred in his bed, blinking against the brightness. The ceiling above him was plain and high, the scent of stone dust and morning dew wafting in through the half-cracked window. Somewhere nearby, a bell chimed once—then twice. A knock followed.
"Academy business," a sharp voice called through the wooden door. "Your MAR evaluations begin shortly. Be at your designated testing location in ten minutes."
Reed sat up slowly, brushing sleep from his eyes. The door creaked open slightly, revealing a clean-cut young man in the Academy's crisp white-and-gray uniform, the lapels lined in silver thread. "You and your roommate," the attendant added with a polite nod toward Marek's side of the room, "will proceed to Evaluation Cell 3B. Don't be late."
Then he left.
Reed glanced across the room. Marek was groaning into his pillow. "You hear that?" Reed asked.
"Unfortunately," Marek muttered, shoving the blanket aside. He stood and stretched, muscles taut beneath his thin frame. "I was hoping to at least get breakfast before getting judged."
Reed smirked faintly, but said nothing. His heart was already beginning to pound.
The two dressed quickly and headed out. The dormitory's stone steps spiraled downward in long, winding loops, their footsteps echoing in the otherwise quiet tower. Outside, the campus unfurled in all directions. Buildings of stone and iron were scattered across the lush grounds—one shaped like a coliseum for combat practice, another with translucent walls glimmering faintly with condensation, clearly the aquatic training center. There were spire-topped libraries, shaded gardens for focus exercises, and open spaces paved for general training. It was almost too much to take in.
Even still, Reed's gaze was pulled to the towering gothic structure at the campus center: the main hall.
Six stories tall, it loomed like a cathedral turned fortress, all shadowed windows and pointed arches. Great winged statues lined its highest balconies, faces worn by time. The closer they drew, the more it felt like entering some sacred battlefield instead of a school. Students bustled all around—some whispering, some laughing, some glowing faintly with barely restrained mana. Reed and Marek said nothing as they passed through the towering doors.
The MAR evaluation chamber was tucked away in one of the deeper wings of the hall. Their footsteps echoed along the long corridor as they finally arrived at a modest wooden door labeled "Cell 3B."
Inside, Lannis was already waiting. She leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, silver braid resting on her shoulder, her violet eyes watching them like a hawk watches prey. The light in the chamber flickered slightly, filtered through stained glass that painted them in shifting reds and blues.
"About time," she muttered. "I was beginning to think you two got lost."
"No such luck," Marek said under his breath.
Before anyone could respond, Halren stepped through a side door. He wore the same sharp uniform as before, though this time he looked more focused—stern, even.
"Hello, hello," he said, voice smooth and clipped. "Welcome to your first evaluation as novice mages. Let's begin."
He walked toward a table at the center of the room and retrieved a crystal-like object—a softly glowing, oval-shaped stone, like a smoothed piece of frozen water.
"This is a MAR tester," he explained, holding it up. "No flashy light shows. Simply focus a small amount of mana into the stone. It will analyze your resonance, detect spell affinity, and give a basic aptitude reading. The rest... we will guide you through."
His eyes flicked to Reed—and lingered a second too long.
"Well," Lannis said, flipping her braid over her shoulder, "guess I'll go first, since the boys are too scared."
"Right, Lannis," Halren said, motioning her forward. "Place your hand on the surface and channel your mana carefully."
She did. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a quiet hum, the crystal lit with a cool, silvery sheen, casting a faint shimmer across her face. The glow held for several seconds before dimming.
Halren checked the readings on a separate stone panel beside him and nodded in satisfaction.
"Good fortune indeed. Tier one silver mage, with proficiencies in both golden and white light. You show strong alignment with healing and stabilization magic."
Lannis raised an eyebrow. "And that's supposed to impress me?"
Halren ignored the tone. "All mages begin at tier one. Through training and fieldwork, you can grow stronger. Advancement, however, is not easy… and not always linear."
He looked like he wanted to say more. Then stopped himself. A flicker of tension passed behind his expression, gone in a breath.
"Marek. You're next."
The black-haired boy stepped forward. As he did, Reed noticed again how slim he really was. Wiry, almost. But determined.
Marek pressed his palm to the crystal—and for a long moment, nothing happened. Halren frowned.
"Focus your mana. Steady and slow."
"I am," Marek growled.
His eyes narrowed. The veins in his arm tensed. He gritted his teeth. The room held its breath.
Then, with a sudden burst of energy, the orb flared—a deep, intense blue flooding the surface, spreading like ink in water. The pressure was enough to make Reed step back.
Halren blinked. "Well. That's… dramatic."
He studied the readings. "Tier one water mage. Your mana is highly compressed and unusually reactive. A word of advice—learn control. Without it, power is just noise."
Marek gave a sharp exhale and stepped back, eyes flicking to Reed.
Halren turned. "Reed. Step up."
The room seemed to still. Reed's feet carried him forward almost on their own. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
This was it. His future. His proof.
He placed his hand on the crystal.
Cool. Smooth. Unremarkable.
He waited. Tried to "push" mana the way he'd seen the others do. Nothing.
Then—he let the mark answer. The shadow within him stirred.
It slid down his shoulder and into his arm, curling around his hand like smoke. The crystal clouded instantly. Not with light—but darkness. A black mist began to fill it from the inside, curling and swirling until it engulfed the orb entirely. The light in the room dimmed. The temperature dropped.
Halren stepped forward quickly.
"Stop. I've seen enough."
Reed withdrew his hand. The shadows coiled back slowly, reluctantly, like a beast leashed. The crystal was left blackened, its glow entirely consumed.
"…Sir?" Reed asked quietly. "My results?"
Halren didn't answer at first.
When he did, his voice was unsteady. "I—I cannot read you. Your resonance is… missing. Or perhaps masked. Even the simplest spells—healing, light, conjuration—are absent. All I sense is… darkness. A void."
Reed's throat dried. "So… I can't use magic?"
"I didn't say that." Halren's eyes narrowed. "But I can't say what you can do, either."
Panic welled in Reed's chest.
'No… I've worked too hard. I've come too far…'
Unseen, the shadows surged again. Crawling across his skin, up his legs, around his torso. Students backed away instinctively. Lannis looked pale. Marek stood frozen, eyes wide.
"Reed, stop!" Halren shouted.
But it was too late.
The shadows enveloped him, head to toe. His body vanished beneath a swirling hood of black mist. The entire room dimmed further. It felt like standing at the edge of a bottomless cliff, staring into a place no light could touch.
Halren took a step back, lips parting.
What in the world could make me—a tier six mage who faced death in the ()()()()()() ()()()()()()—feel like a child again?
Then, suddenly, Reed collapsed.
The mist evaporated in an instant, like smoke in a breeze.
He lay unconscious on the floor, chest rising and falling.
And then…
Reed saw nothing but black.