Leo guided his children toward the assembly area where hundreds of hopeful potential students now formed orderly rows. The anticipation in the air was palpable—a mixture of excitement, fear, and desperate hope.
Headmistress Verna took her position at the front, her emerald robes catching the light as she raised her hands for silence. The murmuring crowd quieted immediately.
"Welcome, candidates," her voice carried effortlessly across the hall. "Today marks your first step toward a new future. The testing process begins with a simple evaluation of magical aptitude."
She gestured to a row of pedestals, each bearing a clear crystal sphere.
"Each candidate will approach and place both hands upon the sphere. If magic talent exists within you, the sphere will illuminate. Those whose spheres glow will proceed to the mage caster division for further evaluation."
Several children whispered excitedly until the headmistress raised her hand again.
"For those whose spheres remain dark, we will assess your potential as apprentice knights. Be aware—only those testing at second level or higher will continue. Those below second level will be disqualified immediately."
A tense silence fell across the hall. For many of these children, particularly those from poorer backgrounds, disqualification meant returning to lives of hardship with dreams shattered.
"The academy cannot afford to invest resources in those lacking sufficient potential," Verna continued, her tone matter-of-fact. "Our mission is to cultivate excellence, not mediocrity."
Leo watched as Alfred and Annete exchanged glances. Though they already knew their status as accepted students, he could see the weight of this moment affecting them—perhaps understanding for the first time the privilege of their guaranteed positions.
"Begin with the first row," Headmistress Verna commanded, and the testing commenced.
Children approached the spheres one by one. From all the hundreds of potential students there were only twelve children which had their spheres glowing. All the rest did not get any reaction. There were a couple of haggard commoners that cheered after getting a reaction from the sphere.
Alfred stepped forward, placing his hands on the crystal sphere. It immediately illuminated with a warm glow, bathing his face in soft light. A murmur rippled through the crowd as the sphere's brightness intensified—clearly marking him as talented.
"Next," called the examiner, gesturing for Annete.
She approached confidently, her blonde hair catching the light as she positioned her hands on the sphere. The crystal flared even brighter than it had for her brother, eliciting impressed whispers from nearby nobles.
The twelve children with glowing spheres—including Alfred, Annete, and two wide-eyed commoner children who couldn't stop grinning—were directed to follow a stern-faced instructor toward a separate chamber.
"Candidates with magical aptitude, attend carefully," Headmistress Verna announced as they assembled in the smaller room. "We will now determine your magical affinity level and elemental alignment."
She gestured toward a series of five pedestals arranged in a semicircle. Each held a different colored crystal: green, red, blue, brown, and purple.
"These represent the five elemental affinities," she explained. "Green for wind, red for fire, blue for water, brown for earth, and purple for lightning. You will approach each crystal in turn. The strength of its reaction will determine both your elemental affinity and your magical aptitude level."
The children exchanged nervous glances.
"Magical aptitude and elemental affinity will be classified as low, medium, or high," Verna continued. "This will determine your placement and curriculum."
She nodded to a nearby assistant who held a device resembling a small brass telescope with intricate markings.
"Finally, we will measure your raw magical power using this device. This reading establishes your baseline potential and helps us track your development."
Leo stood back, watching the testing unfold with practiced calm. He already knew what to expect—all of these children would register with low affinities for magic. Among humans, even a medium affinity was exceedingly rare, appearing perhaps once in several thousand candidates.
The examiner moved methodically through the line of children. Each approached the five elemental crystals in turn, placing their hands upon each. Most crystals remained dim or flickered weakly, confirming low affinities across various elements.
"Wind affinity, low level," the examiner announced for a noble's son.
"Water affinity, low level," for a merchant's daughter.
"Earth affinity, low level," for a duke's nephew.
Then came Annete's turn. She approached the crystals with the same confidence she'd shown earlier. The wind, water, earth, and lightning crystals did not respond. But when her hands touched the red fire crystal, it blazed brilliantly, bathing the chamber in crimson light.
The examiner's eyebrows shot up. "Fire affinity, medium level."
A wave of gasps and mutters swept through the observing nobility. Several lords leaned forward, suddenly paying much closer attention. A medium affinity was valuable—potentially worth political manoeuvring and alliance offers. Like marriage alliance.
"A girl with such talent?" one nobleman whispered loudly enough to be heard.
"Extraordinary," another replied. "I haven't seen a medium affinity in nearly seven years."
The testing continued with the measurement of raw magical power. Most children registered at 0 or 1, indicating they had never trained their magical abilities. Even among nobility, few families could afford proper magical instruction before academy admission.
Only one noble boy registered at 101 magic power, officially qualifying him as a first-level apprentice mage of the earth element. The announcement caused an immediate stir among the nobility—having a child already at apprentice level was a significant achievement and status symbol.
"House Darrington has a earth mage apprentice!" The proud relative couldn't contain himself, drawing envious glances. It was the duke son.
Then it was Alfred and Annete's turn for the power measurement.
Alfred stepped forward when his turn came, placing his hand on the measuring device. The examiner adjusted a few dials, then froze, his eyes widening as he stared at the reading.
"This... this can't be correct," he muttered, recalibrating the device. "Let me check again."
Alfred placed his hand on the device once more. The needle swung wildly before settling.
"Four hundred and twelve," the examiner announced, his voice cracking. "Four hundred and twelve magic power."
The chamber erupted into chaos. Nobles pushed forward, craning their necks to see for themselves. Several instructors rushed over to verify the reading.
"Impossible!" a nobleman shouted. "No child could possess such power!"
"He's already a fourth-level apprentice mage?" another gasped. "At his age?"
The headmistress herself stepped forward, her composed demeanor cracking slightly as she examined the device. "The reading is accurate," she confirmed. "Fourth level apprentice mage of earth affinity."
Leo maintained his neutral expression despite the pride swelling in his chest. The academy staff had been prepared for this—they'd been briefed about his children's exceptional abilities—but the nobility and other candidates were witnessing something unprecedented.
Annete bounced impatiently on her heels as she waited for her turn. When finally allowed to approach, she thrust her hand onto the device with characteristic enthusiasm.
The needle spun and settled. "Four hundred and two magic power," the examiner announced. "Fourth level apprentice mage of fire affinity."
Annete's face immediately fell into a pout as she glanced at her brother. "No fair," she muttered. "I practiced just as much."
Alfred stood a little straighter, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His sister's competitive nature always amused him.
The uproar intensified. Several noble families huddled together, whispering urgently. Others openly stared at the siblings with expressions ranging from awe to suspicion to calculation.
"These children..." one academy instructor whispered to another. "They're not just talented. They're monsters."
"And from Riverstone?" another replied. "Not even from the capital? How is this possible?"