In the Kingdom of Elyndor, there was no tradition more important for the youth than the Test of Realms. It was not merely an examination, but a rite of passage—an ancient trial that every child faced upon reaching the age of thirteen.
The test had two parts. The first was physical, where strength, agility, and endurance were pushed to their limits. The second was written, a measure of the mind, demanding knowledge of Elyndor's history, its rival kingdoms, the mysteries of magic, and the ruins of the old world.
Together, these trials decided one's place. Success meant admission into one of the great academies, institutions where the future leaders, scholars, and warriors of Elyndor were shaped. The highest scorers earned places in the Crownspire Academy, the most prestigious of them all—a path that almost always led to power, honor, and influence.
For Embervale, the proud military state of Elyndor, this test carried even greater weight. Children of Embervale were expected to uphold their legacy, to prove they were worthy of the bloodline of soldiers that had defended Elyndor for centuries. To fail was to shame one's family; to succeed was to carry their banner forward.
And on this very morning, it was Alexander Darius's turn.
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The golden light of dawn spilled across Embervale's stone streets as the fortress-city stirred awake. Soldiers marched in their training yards, the clang of steel echoing across the valley. But in the Darius household, the air was thick not with steel, but with nervous silence.
Alexander sat at the wooden table, staring at the plate of bread and cheese before him. His stomach twisted so tightly he could hardly breathe, let alone eat.
"You should try," his mother, Elira, said gently, sitting beside him. Her hand brushed back a lock of his dark hair. "It will help."
"I can't," Alex muttered, poking at the bread. "What if I—what if I fail?"
Elira's eyes softened. "You won't. And even if you stumble, failing doesn't mean you are less. It only means the path is longer." She smiled faintly. "Besides, imagine what the others will say if Embervale's brightest faints because he skipped breakfast."
That earned a reluctant laugh from Alex.
From the doorway came the heavy tread of boots. Gareth Darius, commander of Embervale's armies and Alexander's father, filled the room with his presence alone. His gaze was steady, hard as tempered steel.
"Listen to your mother," he said firmly. "Eat. Then focus. Today isn't about being the strongest, Alexander. It's about endurance. About proving that your mind and body together can overcome what others cannot."
Alex looked up at him. His voice was quiet when he asked, "Do you think I can do it?"
For a long moment, Gareth said nothing. Then he placed a heavy hand on his son's shoulder.
"You are my son. You'll do more than pass. You'll remind Elyndor why Embervale's children are feared on the battlefield."
Elira sighed, giving her husband a look, before leaning close to Alex. "Remember, love—tests open doors, but they don't define who you are. No matter the result, you will always be ours."
At their feet, Fenrir padded closer, nudging Alex's leg with his muzzle. The wolf's golden eyes seemed to glow with loyalty, his presence a silent promise of strength. Alex crouched and rubbed his fur, whispering, "You'd pass this test without breaking a sweat, wouldn't you?"
Fenrir gave a soft huff, almost as if agreeing.
Then the bells of Embervale tolled, clear and commanding. The summons.
Alexander stood, fastening his simple vest and cloak. His heart pounded, but his steps were steady now. He looked once more at his parents, memorizing their faces—his father's pride, his mother's comfort.
"Go," Gareth said, his voice low and certain. "Show them what it means to be Darius."
"And remember," Elira added, hugging him tightly, "you are more than the test."
Fenrir followed him to the gate but was held back by the guards. He growled softly, but Alex bent down, stroking his head one last time. "Wait for me, boy. I'll come back with good news."
The courtyard beyond was already filling with hundreds of children. Banners of Elyndor rippled in the wind, the crest of the kingdom shining bright. The air was alive with nervous whispers and the restless shifting of feet.
A tall overseer in ceremonial armor raised his voice, cutting through the murmurs.
"Children of Elyndor—today, you prove yourselves. The Test of Realms begins now!"
Alex took a deep breath. His parents' words, his wolf's steady gaze, his own beating heart—these were the things he carried with him as he stepped forward.
The path to Crownspire Academy had begun.