The Grand Auditorium was a breathtaking spectacle of Imperial power and Vex'Arak ingenuity. The space itself was a perfect hemisphere, large enough to house a small town, with tiered seating carved from white marble rising on all sides. There were no pillars, no visible supports; the massive dome of the ceiling seemed to be held up by nothing but will alone. Today, that ceiling was a perfect, clear blue sky, a projection so flawless that you could almost feel the warmth of the sun on your skin.
Thousands of people filled the seats. The entire first-year class, a sea of nervous young faces, occupied the lowest tiers. Above them sat the upperclassmen, their expressions ranging from boredom to predatory curiosity. Higher still were the instructors, a stern and imposing collection of the continent's finest scholars and warriors. And in the highest, most opulent balconies, sat the delegations from the Great Houses—the parents, the patriarchs, the matriarchs, all here to witness the debut of their heirs. In a specially constructed box of created crystal, shimmering with its own internal light, sat the Imperial observers: Princess Seraphina, a vision of silver-and-gold perfection, and a host of other high-ranking Imperial nobles. Prince Valerius was conspicuously absent, a political statement in itself.
I stood with the other first-years on the polished stone floor of the arena, a small, dark figure in a sea of nervous energy. The air was thick with tension, a palpable, crackling thing you could almost taste. For these students, this was the culmination of a lifetime of training, the moment that would define the start of their careers. For some, it was a chance for validation. For others, a terrifying moment of exposure. For me, it was the opening scene of a horror movie, and I was just waiting for the first jump scare.
The whispers in the walls were louder here. The sheer concentration of psychic and magical energy in the auditorium was acting as an amplifier, a massive power source for the Vex'Arak's hidden ritual array. It was a low, subliminal hum that vibrated in the bones, a feeling of pressure behind the eyes. I could feel it. I wondered if anyone else could. I scanned the faces of the instructors, the Headmaster. They seemed oblivious. Only Elsa Noctis, who I spotted half-hidden in the shadow of a large banner, seemed to have a faint, troubled frown on her otherwise impassive face. She could feel it too.
A hush fell over the auditorium as Headmaster Archiron Valewing walked to the center of the arena floor. He looked ancient and weary, but his presence still commanded an absolute, unquestioning respect.
"Students of Lumina Academy," his voice boomed, amplified by a subtle application of his Creation affinity so that it reached every corner of the vast space without seeming to be a shout. "Welcome. For three thousand years, this institution has stood as a beacon of knowledge, a forge of power, and a crucible of character. It was founded on the principle that strength without wisdom is mere brutality, and wisdom without strength is mere theory."
He paused, his ancient, violet eyes sweeping over the sea of young faces. "Today, you begin your journey. You will be tested. You will be challenged. You will be broken down and rebuilt, stronger, sharper, and wiser than you were before. The path ahead is not easy. Many of you will fail. But those who endure, those who persevere, will become the future of this empire. Do not disappoint us. Do not disappoint yourselves."
It was a good speech. Inspiring, solemn, full of gravitas. Azrael's cynical mind immediately started deconstructing it. *'Crucible of character' is a nice way of saying 'we're going to put you through hell and see who cracks.' 'Many of you will fail' is code for 'the tuition is non-refundable.' Standard corporate pep talk, just with more robes and magic.*
The Headmaster stepped back, and his vice-headmaster, the ever-pleasant Lady Mira Frostweaver, stepped forward. She smiled warmly at the students, a reassuring presence after Archiron's intimidating speech.
"The entrance examinations will now commence," she announced, her voice clear and bright. "The first trial is the Affinity Assessment. Each of you will come forward, one by one, and demonstrate the nature and strength of your affinity before a panel of instructors."
She gestured to the side of the arena, where a raised platform had been erected. On it sat a panel of ten senior instructors, including the formidable Master Ashvale. In front of them was a large, crystalline orb that pulsed with a soft, white light.
"You will direct your affinity at the Assessment Orb," Mira explained. "It will measure the raw output, control, and potential of your power. Based on this demonstration, the panel will assign you a preliminary rank, from Mortal Tier up to the Sovereign Ranks. This rank will determine your initial class placements, your dormitory hierarchy, and your social standing within the Academy. It is the first, and most important, impression you will make."
The weight of her words settled over the students. This was it. The great sorting. The moment of institutional judgment that would label and define them. The tension in the room ratcheted up another notch. I could see students fidgeting, their hands sweating. A Pyralis boy was unconsciously conjuring small sparks in his palm. A Glaciem girl was muttering calculations under her breath.
"The order will be alphabetical by House, and then by given name," Mira concluded. "House Draconis, student Alistair. You are first."
A tall, proud young man with scales shimmering on his cheekbones strode forward. The trial had begun. I settled in to watch, my mind a cold, calculating machine. This was not just a test for the students. It was a data-gathering opportunity for me. I would see the true power levels of my allies and enemies, see who was hiding their strength, and who was all bluster. And I would formulate my own demonstration. My goal was not to be the best. It was to be perfectly, strategically placed. High enough to be respected, but not so high as to be a target. Third place, the novel had said. Third place was my goal. I would have to calibrate my performance perfectly.