The sun is at its peak, burning high above like an unblinking eye. Heat waves ripple across the stone courtyard, bending the air until it looks like snowfall in reverse, white distortions dancing upward instead of falling down. Sweat gathers at my temples and slides slowly down my neck, but I stay still. I am standing in line, waiting to register my name for the entrance exam.
The line stretches across the academy gates. Nobles in polished armor stand confidently, their family crests stitched proudly across their cloaks. Commoners fidget with worn gloves and hopeful eyes. Laughter rises here and there, sharp and careless.
I keep my hands clasped behind my back so no one sees the slight tremor in my fingers.
This is just a test.
You've trained for this.
Do not embarrass yourself.
The stone beneath my boots radiates heat upward. My throat feels dry. I swallow and glance toward the towering gates of the Grand Magic Academy. They are taller than the chapel back home, taller than anything in our rocky village.
I need to create an impression.
Not too much. Just enough.
People might be watching.
The thought tightens something in my chest.
And do not cause trouble.
Sister Abigail's face rises uninvited in my mind. The way she worries even when the wind is too strong. If she hears I insulted a noble on the first day, she will not sleep for weeks.
Keep your head down.
But not too low.
Stand straight.
You are not less than them.
When my turn comes, I step forward.
"My name is Silver. I am from Blazefield District."
The man registering names barely looks up at first. His quill scratches lazily against parchment. Then he pauses and lifts his eyes toward me.
"Just Silver? No last name?"
There it is.
I do not like his tone. It carries the faint amusement reserved for orphans and bastards. My pulse quickens, but I keep my voice steady.
Don't react.
Don't start something.
"No. I have a last name. It's Blaze."
The color drains from his face as if someone pulled it away with magic.
"Blaze? Like the royal family? Are you crazy? Do you have some death wish?"
A few heads in the line turn toward us. I feel their stares settle on my back.
Too much.
You pushed too far.
For a brief second, I consider correcting him. Saying it was a joke. Backing down.
But that would be worse.
"No," I reply calmly. "I am fully aware of my audacity."
Sister Abigail would scold me for that one.
The man stares at me for a long moment, then scoffs and dips his quill again.
"Well, you seem crazy enough. So here's some advice. The test has three rounds. First, they will check your primary magic element. Second, they will test your control. Third requires a one on one battle with one of the royal guards."
Royal guards.
My stomach tightens slightly.
Stay composed. Listen carefully.
I nod.
"Thanks. Anything else I should know about?"
He clicks his tongue.
"You are quite greedy for a young guy. Yes. This time, some of the best Magic Knights are going to take a few candidates as direct disciples. Make sure you impress Phoenix."
Phoenix.
The Masked Knight.
It is said he stands equal to the Ten Heroes and even King Flexius himself. A legend carved into war stories and whispered in taverns. For any aspiring Magic Knight, being chosen by him is not opportunity. It is destiny.
My heartbeat quickens.
If I can even stand out.
If I can survive the third round.
And if I don't embarrass Rocky Village before sunset.
I lift my gaze toward the towering gates of the Grand Magic Academy.
Impress Phoenix.
Do not cause trouble.
Do not disgrace Sister Abigail.
I exhale slowly.
Let's see if those can all happen at once.
I made my way in through the gates.
Up close, they were even more imposing, iron-bound and engraved with ancient sigils that shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Beyond them stretched a vast training ground, wide enough to swallow Rocky Village whole. Stone platforms rose at intervals, etched with glowing runes. Older students were sparring across the field, bursts of flame colliding with arcs of water, blades ringing against conjured shields. The air smelled faintly of scorched stone and ozone.
So this is the Grand Magic Academy.
For a brief moment, the weight of it all pressed down on me.
I stepped forward, trying not to stare too openly, and promptly stumbled into someone.
The impact was solid, unmoving.
I looked up.
A tall guy about my age stood before me, ash grey hair falling over sharp eyes. His uniform was immaculate, the crest on his chest stitched in silver thread.
He got angry instantly.
"Eyes on the path, half-wit."
His fist tightened. He was going to punch me.
I froze.
Not out of fear, I told myself.
Just calculation.
Before his arm could move, a hand caught his wrist.
A girl stood beside him, shorter than him but clearly our age. Striking red hair fell neatly down her back, not wild like mine. Controlled. Refined. Her posture was straight, composed.
She said calmly, "Ceilian, he isn't worth your time."
Her tone was smooth, measured, the kind of voice Sister Julia used when she told stories of noble courts and royal banquets. Not loud. Not emotional. Just certain.
Ceilian scoffed and pulled his arm back.
"You are lucky Rose stopped me."
And just like that, I understood.
He was the bully nobleman from Sister Julia's stories. The kind who never gets punished because punishment does not apply upward.
I inclined my head slightly.
"Apologies."
Do not escalate.
First day.
We were led toward a raised platform where a lady stood waiting. Her hair nearly reached her legs, long and dark, flowing like a quiet river behind her. She examined each token handed to her with calm precision.
A guy shorter than even me stepped forward with an exaggerated grin.
"Hey, Lady. Mind I ask where's the way to your heart?"
A few people snickered behind him.
She looked at him without blinking, took his token, and read it.
"Julian Dave. Your mouth is quite fast for a guy your age. I am flattered, but my husband might not like me giving you directions to that place."
Laughter rippled through the line.
She continued smoothly, "Anyway, go to Room 5 for your Magic Attribute test. Though with a mouth that fast, I wouldn't be shocked if you are a wind or lightning user."
Julian took the token back with a dramatic bow and winked at her before striding off confidently.
She sighed lightly.
"That's the exit. Room 5 is in the opposite direction."
The laughter grew louder.
Soon the rest of the line began moving.
"Rose O'Neil. From the O'Neil family. You certainly have Lady O'Neil's grace in you. Room 3."
So she is a noble for real.
"Ceilian Grey. Didn't know that Little Grey got bigger. Hope you make Lord Grey proud. Room 6."
Of course.
Everything here runs on names.
And then it was my turn.
I stepped forward and handed her my token.
She took it casually at first.
Then her eyes paused.
She looked at it again.
One second.
Three.
Eight.
The faint smile on her lips thinned.
"Blaze… Blaze." She looked up at me carefully. "Either Grey at registration made some mistake, or it's your sick joke. Anyway, I don't care. Just don't get yourself killed for that. Room 3."
The words were neutral, but the air shifted.
I could feel it.
Every eye on me.
Whispers starting behind my back.
Blaze.
Like the royal family.
Who does he think he is?
I kept my posture straight.
Room 3.
Same as Rose.
Interesting.
Do not look nervous.
Do not react.
Walk.
I turned and made my way toward Room 3, feeling the weight of a name far heavier than the token in my hand.
The doors to Room 3 opened into a circular stone chamber far larger than it appeared from outside. The ceiling arched high above us, carved with ancient runes that glowed faintly in pale blue light. In the center of the room stood a massive iron cauldron, wide as a carriage and etched with layered sigils. Steam curled lazily from its surface.
Two armored guards stood on either side of it, motionless as statues. Their armor bore the crest of the Kingdom, polished to a mirror shine. The air inside the chamber felt cooler than outside, but heavy, almost expectant.
Rose stepped slightly forward, composed as ever.
"What are we required to do?" she asked the guards.
Before either of them could answer, a sharp cry echoed from above.
An eagle descended from the rafters, wings spreading wide before folding neatly as it perched on the rim of the cauldron. Its golden eyes scanned us, intelligent, assessing.
Some students gasped.
The eagle spoke.
"You will each place a drop of your blood into the cauldron."
A murmur spread instantly.
"The water will rise according to the amount of mana within you," it continued. "If it turns red, your affinity is fire. Aqua blue indicates water. Dark blue indicates ice. Yellow means lightning. Brown is earth. If it remains transparent yet rises violently and proves difficult to contain, that is wind."
The water in the cauldron shimmered faintly as it spoke, as though reacting to its words.
"Green or pink suggests nature-based magic. Purple indicates curse or voodoo magic. Black reveals dark or shadow magic, which will be examined more deeply once classes begin. If the water shines, it is light magic. There are many other rarer attributes, but these are the most common."
As it continued speaking, students began whispering to one another.
The eagle turned its head slightly, almost amused.
"Yes. Before you ask. I am not merely an eagle."
A ripple of realization passed through the room.
A shapeshifter.
Rose did not react outwardly, but I noticed the faint narrowing of her eyes.
The first student stepped forward nervously. A guard handed him a small blade. He pricked his finger and let a drop fall into the water.
The surface trembled.
The water rose a few inches and turned pale yellow.
"Lightning," the eagle announced.
The process continued. Some water rose only slightly. Others caused a noticeable swell.
Then it was Rose's turn.
She stepped forward without hesitation. The blade barely seemed to faze her as she let a drop fall.
The water reacted instantly.
It surged upward, climbing past one quarter, then one third, then rising above half the cauldron. Gasps filled the chamber as the liquid turned a vivid, burning red.
The heat in the room spiked slightly.
"Fire," the eagle declared. "High mana capacity. Consistent with O'Neil lineage."
Rose inclined her head calmly, though I caught the faintest flicker of satisfaction in her eyes.
Above half.
So that is what great talent looks like.
More students went. Some impressive. Most average.
Then my name was called.
I stepped forward.
Do not think about it. Just do it.
The blade felt colder than I expected. I pricked my finger and watched a small bead of blood form. For a moment, I hesitated.
What if nothing happens?
I let the drop fall.
It hit the surface.
The water trembled faintly.
Then… barely anything.
It rose only a fraction. Not even an inch. The movement was so slight it could have been imagination. The color shifted, but not clearly. It was too faint to name.
Silence.
Then snickers.
"That's it?"
"Did it even move?"
"Maybe he cut himself for nothing."
Heat rose to my face, and not from magic.
So this is what it feels like.
The eagle tilted its head, studying the cauldron carefully.
"Hm."
That was all it said.
One of the guards looked unimpressed.
The eagle finally spoke. "Mana presence detected. Minimal, but present. You may proceed to the next test."
Minimal.
But present.
I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat.
At least I was not dismissed.
At least I was not sent home.
That alone made the weight in my chest lighten slightly.
I stepped back, ignoring the looks, ignoring the whispers.
Even this much means I can give it a shot.
One by one, the rest of the students completed the test. The chamber slowly emptied as names were directed toward the next round.
When the last of us had left, the guards remained behind to empty the cauldron.
They gripped its iron handles.
And frowned.
"It wasn't this heavy before," one muttered.
They strained slightly before managing to tilt it.
The water inside did not shimmer.
It did not glow.
It simply settled heavily against the iron, as if resisting movement.
Neither guard noticed the subtle density in its depth.
The eagle had already flown.
No one remained in the chamber.
And no one saw that the cauldron which barely reacted… had become the heaviest of them all.