Morning sunlight spilled over the academy grounds. Students buzzed with excitement and nerves—today was the magic assessment, which would determine class divisions and rank each student's abilities.
Elian walked quietly, observing the crowd. First day. New student. Everyone already whispered about him after his practice ground performance.
"The new boy… even Lyra noticed him!"
"He's calm, but I heard his magic is weak."
The headmaster raised his hand. A giant, floating magic ball appeared, swirling with colors representing the students' magic. Each student approached in turn, their abilities displayed in glowing patterns of red, blue, or gold.
Lyra stepped forward first. Her silver hair shimmered as the ball glowed brightly red, then gold—her skill and potential clear for all to see. She smirked proudly.
When Elian's name was called, a few students snickered. Weak magic, after all. He stepped forward calmly, hands at his sides.
The ball swirled… glowed… then nothing.
Whispers erupted.
"It's not reacting at all!"
"Does he even have magic?"
"The ball shows zero reading. He must be hiding something."
Lyra raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Calm… but the ball shows nothing.
"Show your magic," the instructor demanded.
Elian flicked a tiny spark of fire. It was almost invisible, weak—but it hit the target perfectly, bouncing off a wall to strike a distant, difficult mark.
The classroom fell silent.
The headmaster stepped forward, eyes wide.
"This… this is impossible," he murmured. "The magic ball shows no potential… yet he can control fire with perfect precision."
Other students gasped.
"He… he just…!"
"First day, and he's amazing!"
Lyra blinked, her curiosity mixing with frustration. "Weak magic… and still perfect… what is he hiding?"
Next came the team-based trials. Elian was grouped with intermediate students, many skeptical of the quiet, weak boy.
Yet he outsmarted them. Tiny sparks guided targets, subtle strategies maximized efficiency, and even weak magic hit perfectly. His team excelled beyond expectations, and the instructors were left confused and intrigued.
Despite the magic ball showing nothing, Elian's elite potential was undeniable. By the end of the day, he was placed in the elite division, much to the amazement—and mild irritation—of Lyra.
"So… the boy with no magic reading… ends up in elite class?" she muttered, frowning, though a flicker of intrigue lit her eyes.
That night, alone in his dorm, Elian felt warmth in his chest—the black-and-white seal pulsing faintly. His golden eyes glimmered in the candlelight.
He didn't know why, but part of him had been measured today by the magic ball—and it had failed to detect the true power within him.
The child of hope had survived his first academy tests, caught attention, and stirred whispers—romantic, jealous, and curious—while keeping the true extent of his powers a secret.