He pointed to six of the section of the scale, each one lighting up as he named it
Stage1: Novice. Resonance between zero and fifteen percent. You can feel your element, maybe summon a whisper." "Stage2: Apprentice. Fifteen to thirty percent. You can manifest it reliably in simple forms." "Stage3: Adept. Thirty to forty-five. True control begins. You can shape it with intent." "Stage4: Expert. Forty-five to sixty. Power and fine manipulation become second nature."
"Stage5: Master. Sixty to seventy-five. You redefine what is possible with your element." "Stage6: GrandMaster. Seventy-five to ninety. You are a force of nature, approaching the theoretical limits of mortal affinity."
The class was utterly silent, absorbing this. It was the first time anyone had laid out the entire path so clearly.
"Now," Kael said, pointing to the tier list. "The Grade—D, C, B, A, S—that determines your card's color—Iron, Bronze, Silver, Gold, Platinum. This does not measure your current power. It is a measure of your potential density *within your current stage.*"
He let that hang for a beat. Oliver felt Leo stiffen beside him. Elara leaned forward, her earlier playfulness gone, replaced by intense focus.
"A 'C' grade does not mean you are weak. It means that within your current Novice Stage, your spark has a certain brightness, a certain… capacity for growth at this level. A Diamond may start as coal under immense pressure. The Guild' system looks at your raw material and makes an initial, crude assessment of its quality. Your card color is a snapshot of that potential on the day you Awoke. It is not your destiny."
A profound murmur swept the room. Faces showed dawning enlightenment. The hierarchy they'd felt crushing them was suddenly framed as a starting line, not a finish line.
A bold student near the front, a boy with the eager look of a low-grade Jiton (Magnetism) user, shot to his feet. "Instructor! So, we are all… Grade C Novices?"
Kael chuckled, that mysterious smile returning. "Yes. And no."
The class erupted in confused whispers. Oliver's mind raced. Yes and no?
"The 'yes' is simple," Kael said, raising a hand for quiet. "Your measured resonance on Awakening Day placed you all within the Novice Stage, with a density graded primarily as C. Hence, the Bronze card for most of you. The 'no'…" He paused, his eyes twinkling. "…is because the initial Awakening Ceremony is a blunt instrument. It measures the flash, the obvious surge. It is poor at measuring stability, adaptability, synergy, or… unique spectral signatures that don't fit the standard elemental frequencies."
His gaze drifted, almost imperceptibly, over the students. Oliver felt a strange certainty it lingered on him for a fraction of a second.
"The true measurement," Kael said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, "the one that matters to this academy, begins now. It is measured in sweat, in insight, in resilience. It is measured in how you grow from your starting point. Your potential is not a prison. It is a hypothesis. And your time here is the experiment."
He straightened up, clapping his hands together once. "Which is why tomorrow's physical conditioning class with Proctor Grath will be particularly… illuminating. You will begin to test your limits. You will begin to see what your 'grade' truly means when pushed. Dismissed."
With a final, enigmatic smile that promised both challenge and revelation, Instructor Kael turned and began examining a crystal apparatus on his desk, effectively ending the class.
The students filed out, abuzz with a new kind of energy. It wasn't just anxiety or resignation anymore; it was a simmering mixture of uncertainty and sudden, fierce hope.
"A hypothesis," Leo repeated as they walked into the corridor, his eyes alight with new calculation. "They're not judging the ore. They're testing how well it forges."
Ilana nodded thoughtfully. "Our grades are just… the size of the seed. Not the strength of the tree it can become."
Elara punched Oliver's shoulder lightly. "See, Grey-Weaver? Your 'weird spectral signature' might just be the most interesting hypothesis of all."
Oliver touched the bronze card in his pocket. It still felt the same—cold, lightweight. But the weight of its meaning had shifted. It wasn't a label of his worth. It was the first line of a question. And for the first time, he was desperate to know the answer.
Tomorrow's physical class loomed, not as a dreaded ordeal, but as the first real test. The hidden assessment was becoming very, very clear.
End of chapter