Kaelen woke up in a daze, his body heavy with exhaustion. The past few weeks had drained him—every night spent weaving illusions had left him bone-tired and mentally spent. He hadn't realized how much energy it took to maintain such elaborate performances until now. All he wanted today was rest. For once, he let his bed remain unmade, the sheets tangled where he had tossed and turned through the night. Instead of his usual routine, he slipped into fresh clothes without fussing over their appearance and made his way downstairs.
The tavern was quieter than usual this morning, the patrons sparse as Kaelen settled into a corner seat. A plate of pancakes and a cup of bitter coffee were placed before him, the aroma of warm syrup and butter filling his nose. It wasn't fancy, but after weeks of earning coins through his nightly performances, he could afford such luxuries. His violinist illusion had drawn more attention than he ever imagined. People whispered about the mysterious musician by the Silvervein Canal, marveling at his seemingly otherworldly talent. And the tips? More than enough to sustain him for two months, maybe even longer if he managed his funds carefully.
As he cut into the pancake, golden syrup pooling onto his plate, Kaelen allowed himself to daydream. Perhaps one of the nobles would invite him to perform privately. Or maybe someone would offer him a permanent position as a court musician. Either way, the possibilities felt endless. His illusions had brought him further than he ever thought possible, transforming him from a street orphan into someone worth noticing.
He continued to eat in peace, savoring each bite despite his fatigue. Just as he reached for another sip of coffee, snippets of conversation from nearby tables caught his ear.
"The Grand Seekers Academy is opening soon," one man said, his voice low but carrying clearly across the room. "They say it's the best place for seekers to refine their abilities."
"Yeah, but only the chosen ones get in," another replied, shaking his head. "Not every seeker has what it takes. They look for potential, not just skill. You have to be willing to push yourself beyond limits most wouldn't dare cross."
Kaelen froze mid-bite, his curiosity piqued. The Grand Seekers Academy? He had heard whispers of it before, but never paid them much mind. Now, though, the idea resonated deeply. This was his chance—a real opportunity to change his life permanently. If accepted, he could learn to master his illusions, perhaps even uncover secrets about the Ocean of Insight that no one else knew.
Leaning back slightly, Kaelen tried to listen more closely without drawing attention to himself. The first man gestured animatedly as he spoke. "It's not just about what you've learned so far," he said. "They want seekers who are driven, who can take what they know and turn it into something greater. I heard they test you on everything—your focus, your creativity, even your willingness to risk failure."
"Risk failure?" the second man asked, raising an eyebrow. "Sounds dangerous."
"Oh, it is," the first man replied with a grimace. "But if you make it through, well… you're set for life. Some graduates become personal advisors to nobles, others join elite groups that protect the city. And then there are the ones who disappear entirely, rumored to be working on secret projects for the ruling council."
Kaelen couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. Secret projects for the ruling council? That sounded like exactly the kind of thing he wanted to avoid. Still, the academy offered opportunities he couldn't ignore. Maybe he could find a balance—a way to use his illusions for good while staying out of trouble.
Across the room, another patron chimed in. "I knew someone who applied last year. Brilliant seeker, too. But they didn't get in. Too focused on flashy tricks, apparently. The academy doesn't care about showmanship—they want seekers who can think critically, who understand the true value of knowledge."
"True value of knowledge…" Kaelen murmured under his breath, letting the words sink in. Did his illusions qualify as valuable knowledge? Or were they just another form of entertainment?
The barkeep approached with a fresh mug of ale, overhearing part of the conversation. "You boys talkin' about the academy again?" he asked gruffly, setting the mug down near the speakers. "Every year, same story. Half the city applies, but less than ten percent gets in."
One of the patrons nodded knowingly. "That's because they weed out anyone who isn't serious. You can't just walk in there thinking you'll breeze through. They throw challenges at you—mental puzzles, physical tests, even moral dilemmas. If you flinch once, you're out."
"Moral dilemmas?" Kaelen blurted out before he could stop himself, earning curious glances from the group. Flushing slightly, he added, "What do you mean?"
The first man leaned forward, intrigued. "Imagine this: you're given a choice. Use your sought knowledge to save one person or withhold it to save many. What do you do?"
Kaelen hesitated, considering the question. "I… don't know," he admitted quietly. "Wouldn't it depend on the situation?"
"Exactly!" the man exclaimed, pointing a finger at Kaelen. "That's why the academy is so selective. They don't want seekers who act impulsively. They need thinkers, planners—people who understand the weight of their actions."
Another patron joined the discussion, her voice sharp and decisive. "And let's not forget, the academy isn't cheap. Even if you get accepted, tuition fees alone could bankrupt most families. Not to mention the cost of living inside the inner walls. Only the truly ambitious—or those backed by wealthy sponsors—can afford it."
"But isn't it worth it?" Kaelen asked, unable to keep the eagerness from his tone. "If you graduate, you could set yourself up for life. Maybe even become a noble."
The woman snorted. "Becoming a noble? That's easier said than done. Sure, some graduates rise high, but most end up working for the nobles instead of joining their ranks. Still, it's better than scraping by in the outer walls like us."
Her words struck a chord within Kaelen. Could he really leave the outer walls behind? Was he ready to step into a world where knowledge was power, and power came at a price?
With a satisfied sigh, Kaelen finished his breakfast and stepped outside. The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers and freshly baked bread from nearby stalls. Today, he decided, would be a day off—a rare indulgence. No diving into the Ocean, no crafting illusions. Just relaxation.
He wandered aimlessly through the streets, stopping at stalls to sample all kinds of foods he hadn't dared try before. Sweet pastries filled with honey and nuts, savory pies stuffed with spiced meats, and cups of hot chocolate so rich it melted in his mouth. Each bite brought a smile to his face, a reminder of the simple joys he had missed during his years of struggle.
At one stall, a baker handed him a slice of warm apple turnover, her eyes twinkling with kindness. "On the house," she said with a wink. "You look like you've earned it."
Kaelen thanked her, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the food. For the first time in a long while, he didn't feel like an outsider looking in. He belonged here, among the people who laughed and chatted around him, sharing in the rhythm of the city.
By afternoon, Kaelen found himself near the Silvervein Canal, sitting on a bench and watching the water ripple under the sunlight. Children played nearby, their laughter echoing against the stone walls. A merchant called out his wares from a cart laden with colorful trinkets, while a scholar leaned against a pillar, scribbling notes in a leather-bound journal.
As he sat there, a young couple approached the canal, hand in hand. They paused to admire the view, their voices drifting toward Kaelen.
"I still can't believe how beautiful it was," the woman said, her tone dreamy. "That violinist by the canal—it felt like he wasn't playing for us. Like we were intruding on something sacred."
Her companion nodded enthusiastically. "And did you see his suit? So elegant, so perfect. It looked like it was made of moonlight itself."
Kaelen smiled faintly, proud despite his exhaustion. His illusions had touched these people in ways he hadn't anticipated. Maybe that was the key—not just creating convincing deceptions, but making people feel something genuine.
Nearby, a group of scholars gathered around a table, debating loudly. One of them waved a piece of parchment in the air. "This new discovery about sound harmonics changes everything! Imagine being able to manipulate frequencies to heal wounds or soothe minds…"
Another scholar scoffed. "Easy for you to say. You're studying sound. Try explaining your findings to someone who seeks knowledge of swordplay. How does harmony apply when blades clash?"
"It applies everywhere!" the first scholar shot back, leaning closer. "Even in combat, timing and rhythm matter. Haven't you ever noticed how skilled fighters move almost musically? Every strike, every parry—it's all part of a larger symphony."
Kaelen listened intently, fascinated by the connection between music and combat. Could he incorporate such ideas into his illusions? Make them not just entertaining, but meaningful?
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the canal in hues of gold and pink, Kaelen stood and stretched. Tomorrow, he would dive deeper into the Ocean of Insight, seeking ways to enhance his illusions further. But for today, all he needed was to enjoy the moment—to savor the quiet joy of simply existing.
He bought a loaf of fresh bread and shared it with a stray cat, laughing as it purred contentedly beside him. He watched a blacksmith hammer away at a glowing blade, the rhythmic clangs echoing through the air. And later, he stopped to listen to scholars debate the properties of rare herbs, their arguments punctuated by bursts of laughter and occasional exclamations of frustration.
By evening, his stomach full and his spirit lighter, Kaelen returned to the tavern, content to let the worries of the future wait for another day. As he climbed the stairs to his room, he couldn't help but wonder: Would the academy see his illusions as mere tricks? Or as something greater—an art form capable of shaping reality itself?
For now, though, all he cared about was sleep. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but tonight, he could rest easy.