The sea of candidates was too vast for a single hall. Professors and attendants moved with precision, dividing the gathered youths into groups. Runes carved across the test grounds pulsed to life, shimmering like molten veins in the earth, guiding each cluster toward their designated arenas.
Lucien Davisus walked with casual ease in the center of one such group, his golden griffon insignia gleaming faintly on his tunic. To his left, Princess Selene Veradis drew glances with every step, crimson skirts swishing in deliberate defiance of decorum. Behind her trailed Damian Arcanos, the heir to the Mage Association, chin tilted in practiced arrogance.
Elira Calvus moved quietly, her calm aura like a soothing balm in the tense air. On her other side strode Seraphina Mervilin, posture sharp, quill and parchment already in hand as though preparing to analyze every second. Lastly, Aurelia Astralis followed with the haughty poise of her archmage mother, silver hair catching the sunlight like threads of starlight.
It was a parade of houses. Wealth, royalty, magic, healing, governance, and starlight — the future pillars of the Empire walking into trial.
Lucien's lips quirked faintly. A fine board for my game. Each a piece of value — knights, bishops, even a queen. And I? The player with the hidden advantage.
Their group entered Arena Five, a coliseum-shaped chamber with a towering crystalline device at its heart. A colossal scale balanced on an ornate silver frame, its plates etched with ancient runes. Above, a crystal sphere pulsed faintly, releasing waves of mana that made the very air hum.
Gasps spread among the common-born candidates. Even the nobles straightened, acknowledging the weight of what stood before them.
"Motili's Scale…" someone whispered.
The artifact of legends. Said to resonate with the threads of creation itself, unveiling a mage's affinity and the depth of their mana attunement. No family name or wealth could sway its judgment. Only truth.
A professor in silver robes raised his staff. "One by one. Place your hand upon the plate. Do not resist. Do not attempt trickery. The Scale cannot be deceived."
Silence swallowed the chamber.
The first candidate approached, trembling, and pressed his palm onto the plate. A faint flicker of blue shimmered."Water affinity. Low attunement," the professor announced. The boy sagged in relief — at least not affinity-less.
Another girl followed. Sparks of red fire danced weakly."Fire affinity. Average attunement."
And so it went. Hopefuls stepped forward, palms pressed, futures revealed in light and rune.
When Damian Arcanos strode up, he placed his hand with the confidence of one who believed the world owed him. The Scale responded violently — crimson fire erupted, threaded with crackling lightning.
"Fire affinity, dual resonance with Lightning," the professor declared, his tone impressed. "High attunement!"
Damian smirked, basking in the gasps. "Crown of Magic," someone murmured, and he straightened further.
Princess Selene Veradis was next. With a grin that dared the artifact to try something dull, she pressed her hand. A radiant silver light burst forth, edged with playful winds that tugged at nearby robes.
"Light affinity. Secondary Wind. High attunement."
The crowd erupted. The Crimson Rose had bloomed in silver brilliance. Selene twirled as though the cheers were her rightful coronation.
Elira Calvus followed, hesitant yet steady. A warm green glow spread from her palm, runes spiraling like gentle vines.
"Healing affinity," the professor's voice cracked slightly, reverence creeping in. "Advanced Nature attunement. High grade."
A hush fell. Healing — the rarest, most coveted gift. Professors leaned forward, eyes gleaming. The Saintess of Serenity had lived up to her name.
Seraphina Mervilin approached without hesitation, emerald eyes sharp. When her hand touched the plate, the Scale pulsed with deep green, lines of order and geometry forming across its surface.
"Earth affinity. Exceptional attunement. Above high grade."
Her lips twitched in a faint smirk, satisfaction but no surprise. The Emerald Scholar lived to expectations.
Aurelia Astralis came next, gaze cold as the stars. When her palm touched, silver-blue flames roared skyward, sharp and unyielding.
"Fire affinity entwined with Astral light. Supreme precision. High attunement."
Even Selene whistled low, and Seraphina's eyes narrowed. Rivalry rekindled.
Then it was Lucien's turn.
Lucien Davisus and the Impossible
He stepped forward leisurely, dusting his sleeve before laying his palm flat.
At once, the Scale convulsed. The plates tilted violently, runes blazing in unknown patterns. The crystal sphere above burst into twin beams — one golden-brown like the eternal earth, the other pure white streaked with black void, bending the air itself.
The arena shook.
The professor stumbled back, shouting over the uproar:"Earth affinity… and Space! Mana attunement — Genius level! High Mana Attunement!"
The chamber exploded with noise. Space affinity! A myth whispered in arcane records. To have it paired with Earth — the most stable of elements — was unthinkable.
Damian Arcanos paled. Selene Veradis clapped wildly, delight dancing in her eyes. Elira gasped softly, while Seraphina's quill hand twitched. Aurelia Astralis's gaze sharpened like a drawn blade.
Lucien merely withdrew his hand, brushing his palm as though dusted. "Well," he drawled, voice carrying effortlessly, "it seems the Scale agrees. I am magnificent."
Half the chamber laughed nervously, half bristled. The professors scribbled furiously. The griffon of House Davisus had revealed its wings.
Soon they were led into a second hall lined with rows of desks. Quills and enchanted parchment glowed faintly, bound by runes to prevent dishonesty.
"The written examination will now commence," a proctor intoned. "Subjects: history, geography, magical theory, logic. Time: three hours. Begin."
Candidates bent low, scratching nervously. Nobles frowned at the mundane rigor. Some chewed quills; others stared blankly.
Lucien sat back, quill spinning idly in his fingers. How nostalgic… entrance exams, standardized tests. Compared to Earth's torture, this is nothing but child's play.
He began to write. His script flowed smoothly, answers tumbling effortlessly. Where others sweated over mana cycle theory, he mapped it cleanly. Where they fumbled on border treaties, he traced lines of memory from books devoured in this new life.
Lucien, however, finished nearly an hour early. He leaned back, parchment complete, quill balanced on his fingertip, gaze lazy. Professors on the dais noticed, whispers spreading.
"Already done?" one muttered.
"He writes with certainty," another observed, scribbling his name on a separate list.
Lucien closed his eyes briefly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. On Earth, I was forged in exams. Here, I am a monster among children. Let them whisper genius — the truth is, I am merely practiced. And this world is far too unprepared.
The hall thickened with tension as time drained away. For some, sweat stained parchment. For others, pride cracked beneath the pressure. Yet for Lucien Davisus, heir of the golden griffon, it was only the beginning.