They walked through a corridor lined with what looked like museum exhibits, staffs in glass cases, books chained to podiums, jars with floating organs that glowed and pulsed with a light of their own. Every ten to fifteen steps, a smaller door branched off, and Keane could only wonder what they held behind them.
'Aren't they afraid of these things being stolen?' He thought to himself.
The mage led them up a spiral staircase, the steps slightly uneven, as if they'd been added one by one over centuries.
Once they reached where they would branch off, they walked through several more corridors before reaching a door. It had a sigil that looked almost like a fingerprint, but made of tiny, interlocking hexagons. The mage pressed his palm to the door, and it swung inward with a heavy thud.
'No shit… they have this kind of technology here too? Do they still need science?'
Inside was a chamber that reminded Keane of a planetarium from home, only smaller and a hundred times weirder. The floor was a perfect white disc, polished to a mirror sheen. Around the edges stood a circle of crystalline pillars, each one as tall as Keane, each humming with energy, a slightly more present energy than what he had been feeling since he came into the building. At the center of the room, a platform rose up from the floor, maybe a meter across.
"Wait here," the mage said, and left them standing on the threshold while he crossed to the far side.
After some seconds, another man appeared, a little older, sharp-faced, with the kind of eyes that saw through people rather than at them.
His robes were the same deep blue, but trimmed in silver, and he wore a chain around his neck, set with a single, perfect sapphire.
"Lady Vane," the older mage said, offering a curtly nod.
Elara bowed in return. "Archmage Dralur," she said, voice formal. "Thank you for seeing us on such short notice."
Dralur smiled, but it didn't strain his face. He looked at Keane, then at Elara, then back to Keane. "So. You wish to be assessed?"
Keane shrugged. "Well, yeah..."
Dralur's mouth twitched as he gestured to the platform. "Please step onto the circle."
Keane did as he was told.
Once he was on it, the platform hummed, like a very large, very lazy engine coming to life.
Dralur circled the platform, fingers making signs in the air, muttering under his breath in a language Keane couldn't track. The outer pillars flickered, then began to glow, each one pulsing a different color.
Keane watched, half-expecting to see a stat sheet float up in front of him. Instead, he felt a sudden, sharp pressure in his chest, like someone had dropped a weight on his sternum.
It passed in a delayed instant, then came back, stronger. The colors spun faster, the light bleeding across the floor and up the walls. The hum turned into a deep, vibrating note, so loud Keane wondered why Elara didn't flinch.
Dralur's hands flew faster, his voice rising, and the light came together into a spinning white ring that circled Keane's waist, slowly expanding to his whole body.
"Remain still," Dralur snapped. "This part can be... disorienting."
Keane did as he was advised, though it felt like his bones were vibrating.
The light grew brighter, until he could see nothing but white, and then, in one instant, it was over.
The pressure vanished in a moment's notice.
Keane blinked, his eyes almost watering, and looked at the mage.
To his surprise, Dralur was staring at him, mouth open. The professional mask he had on just a moment ago had cracked, and underneath was something close to fear and shock.
'Well, this can't be good, can it?' He thought to himself.
Keane stepped off the platform, rolling his shoulders. "That it?" he asked, voice casual.
Dralur didn't answer right away. He turned, grabbed a slate from the wall, and ran his finger down a column of numbers. His lips moved, counting, then he looked at Keane again.
"Impossible," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.
Elara stepped forward, her own mask slipping a little. "What is it?"
Dralur shook his head, looking at Keane as if seeing him for the first time. "It's... unprecedented," he said. "This doesn't even make any sense…" He broke off, glancing at Elara, then back to Keane.
Keane looked confused, "can you explain?"
Dralur set his slate down, his expression becoming serious. "There is a reason we test for affinity," he said. "Every living thing draws on the fundamental principles that govern mana, the different Schools of Thought. They are the architecture of reality, the source of all power, physical or otherwise." He explained.
Keane looked at the mage, waiting for the rest.
"Fundamentally, there are nine Schools," he continued. "Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Light, Shadow, Mind, Body, and Death." He said, as they walked to the side.
Then he continued. "Each being resonates with one or sometimes two, almost never more than two. Progression through the Realms is based on mastery of these schools, their branches, their fundamental principles…" He looked at Keane as if he were a riddle made flesh.
"But you… You have no resonance. No elemental property, no school alignment… Your mana—" He broke off, snatching a crystal from the table and rolling it between his palms. The crystal lit up as he injected some of his mana into it and displayed a mix of two colours, like shifting mist. "This is what we see in the ordinary. Even prodigies, present a pattern. But you—"
He held up the crystal, and instead of a color, it displayed nothing, an absence, a void. "There is nothing."
"Your spiritual energy exists outside all known classifications," he said, excitement leaking into his voice. "It should be impossible."
Keane grinned, loving every minute. "So I'm an anomaly in the system," he said.
"Yes," Dralur said, almost reverent.
Elara was less impressed, however. "Does it pose a danger?"
Dralur thought, then shook his head. "No more than any other anomaly, I could say. But, I am unsure."
Keane ran some thoughts through his mind as he thought about it. "How does this affect me?"
Dralur hesitated. "With no School, no affinity, you should have no power at all… Yet, you still possess mana in a form unknown, so it should not be so that you are powerless. You at least are so until we understand this new dimension of mana."
He looked at Keane, all scholarly reserve gone. "May I test again? Please. For history, for knowledge—"
Keane grinned as he nodded . "Sure. Knock yourself out."
The mage set the platform again, ran the ritual a second time, then after pleading, a third. Each time, the results were the same. Dralur noting that his mana capacity appeared to be quite a lot for someone who hasn't been practicing, noting the break from common logic again.
"Thank you," Dralur said. "Please, return anytime. The Tower would be honored—truly honored—to host you again. If you don't mind, I would like to study you more to determine this… I don't even know what to call it."
Keane nodded, also interested in understanding his situation. 'This better not be connected to my skill-less status.' He thought.
With a final greeting, they departed, heading out of the room before being led away by the mage that had brought them, he appeared to have been waiting outside.
They made their way back through as they came, down the stairs, through the artifact hall, back past the exposed artifacts. As the outer door closed behind them, Elara let out a deep breath, like she had been holding it in.
"That was very… a rather unique experience." She said. "Well, with that out of the way, you'll need papers," she said. "A record, something to keep the guards from grabbing you off the street."
Keane looked at her, understanding what she meant.
"Unregistered foreigners are fair game for conscription, or worse. Valewind tolerates much, but not ghosts. You need an identity, or you risk waking up in a chains or sold off."
"As a slave?" Keane asked surprised.
"Of course."
Keane's smile faded, just a little. "Harsh."
They soon reached the wagon as they discussed lightly while walking.
Sylvi was there, exactly as they had left her.
Elara spoke to the driver about where to take them, and then joined Sylvi and Keane inside before they departed.