Old books and incense hung thick in the air. The door hinges groaned—every conversation died mid-sentence.
Taking a look around I could see everyone had already divided themselves into the usual cliques, theory nerds on the left and sixteen year old attempts at muscle heads on the right. Most seemed calm but I could see shaking hands in both groups, and Lira's fingers drummed the table—one-two-three-four—her jaw tight enough to crack walnuts. She was one insult away from murder.
"Bow for His Majesty!" Thomas barked, arms wide like he'd rehearsed it. The room was already staring. "Thought you would hide in the bathroom until they called your name."
"I might have if the line was any shorter," I kept my voice flat. No use in starting a fight right before we underwent the ceremony.
A couple of snickers from the theory side-small mercies. Lira stopped tapping. "Third place," she said, loud enough for everyone to turn to her. "All because someone forgot how to block a riposte."
The jab landed exactly where she wanted. My ribs still remembered that fight and while the bruise had faded the memory certainly hadn't. I opened my mouth for a retort, then shut it. Remembering the reason we were all here to begin with. I hadn't seen any of my old classmates since graduation a month before, and it seems the majority still held a grudge.
I walk to an empty bench beneath a narrow window and sit. Sunlight causes dust motes to appear in stripes across my boots. Ignoring the further taunts from my more vocal classmates I focused on the stripes, shifting my boot and playing with the light as I waited. The room filled out as time passed until bells rang outside the cathedral.
We all heard a loud bang as every room holding ceremony takers opened at once and hit the door stops. A priest dressed in silver robes trimmed in black walked in and after taking a quick look around said "Line up by trial rank! Halver will be first, Ranfren second, and Itrinilum third. Move!"
Groans rippled through the room. Halver was probably sipping on chilled wine right now. We got lukewarm water and grudges.
Thomas shoved past me hard enough to rock the bench. "Try not to trip on the way out, Dremskir."
I stood. "Try not to choke on your own ego, Thomas. Plenty of room for both of us to fail."
That earned a condescending stare from Thomas but I could see the smirks on the faces of others. I would bet on them wanting both of us to fail. Failures don't attune to anything, and if both Thomas and I were gone then the chances of them getting into an academy went up.
Lira rolled her eyes and took the lead. I fell in at the rear while the priest marched us down the hallway to the farthest door—already cracked open, soft chanting rumbling through the stone and thrumming in my ribs even if we could barely hear it from here.
Stone gave way to polished marble as we neared the main hall of the cathedral. Chanting drifted from somewhere ahead, low and resonant. The kind of chanting that crawled under your skin and made your pulse match the cadence without permission.
We emerged onto a balcony overlooking the nave. I'd seen the cathedral from the square a hundred times, but never from inside during the ceremony. Vaulted ceilings soared into shadow; stained glass bled color across a thousand upturned faces. At the far end, the high altar had been replaced by an orb of black glass ten paces across. Above it floated the Attunement Sphere: a sphere of liquid starlight, turning slowly, throwing off sparks that died before they touched the floor.
Every major junior academy filled its own balcony, twelve in total spread across the cathedral except one. Halver stood front and center, faces alight with pride for taking first in the trials. I looked at Ranfren's balcony and saw their top rank, a smaller girl with a rapier scar across one cheek called Cael, locking eyes with me and smirking. I smirked back. Let her have her moment.
A Bishop of Mirathil in his sky-blue robes stepped to the railing surrounding the raised platform holding the black glass and spoke, his raspy voice reaching the far side of the cathedral either through magic or a trick in the architecture.
"Children of Bythos, citizens of Vaelen and followers of Mirathil. You stand at the threshold. The Goddess sees the soul beneath your flesh. Aura or mana, strength or subtlety. Your path will be revealed on this day." he paused for a few breaths to let it sink in, the entire cathedral waiting with baited breath.
The sphere above him pulsed once, brighter. A hush swallowed the cathedral in a way where even a light cough would be met with the furious gazes of those around you.
"Whether you leave here a legend, or with the destiny of living as a simple baker, all will be decided in the coming moments." He turned to address a few well dressed individuals near the railing holding ledgers and gave them a signal I didn't understand. "Let us begin!"
They started with Halver. Names rang out and each student walked up the marble stairs. Some placed their hands upon the black glass nervously, even wiping them on their pant leg beforehand as if it would change the outcome. Others thought bravado would help, some still just silently prayed for their desired outcome.
Each time a hand was placed, light flared from the Attunement sphere above. A bolt of light in different colors would strike through their hand and into the black glass. The first boy was struck with a golden bolt, signifying his attunement to aura. The black glass sparkled with red and gold inclusions, a rough estimate would be in the dozens before they slowly faded. The bishop beside him announced, "Brent Lantrin, fifth class aura with sixth class fire affinity."
The cathedral had erupted in cheers, Brent might have only a single affinity but it was a strong one and his aura attunement was also formidable.
Aura and mana both had natural attunements up to the tenth rank depending on your talent. Unless something serious happened to Brent he was almost certain to become a fifth rank knight. If he was lucky even sixth was possible thanks to his affinity.
Affinities also went naturally up to the tenth rank. The higher your talent in that element was the higher the affinity, which correlated to how easy you could learn techniques or spells of that element.
Most students drew normal reactions, third rank here and a fifth rank affinity there. Anything five or higher would lead you on a bright path for knights. The standards for knights was higher as mages were much more rare. A third rank attuned mage would still be fought over while a third rank knight would be ignored by the more prestigious academies.
Students came and went, some drawing no reaction from the sphere to the horror of the ceremony taker. Leaving them sobbing before the glass orb. Some even demanded a retry to the bishop before being dragged out.
"Kayla Cyndel." The bishop called out next. A girl with deep auburn hair stood and walked to the glass orb, placing her hand on it.
Fshh CRACK
The Attunement orb fired off sparks as it spun with increasing speed, crackling like whips. The sound of the air moving around the cathedral drawing worried looks from those in the audience. Finally a thick sapphire bolt slammed into the glass orb through Kayla's hand, and as the mana attuned bolt drew inclusions from the glass orb you could see streaks of ice-blue along with emerald-green and brown. Those with good enough vision could obviously see the brown being vastly outnumbered however.
The crowd erupts as the bishop raises his hand to make his announcement.
"Kayla Cyndel, eighth rank mana with an ice affinity of the eighth rank, a wind affinity of the sixth rank, and an earth affinity of the third rank."