Time in Opes became a river in flood overwhelming and unstoppable. The days separating Hayjin and Zhilian from the Official Mages' Association Exam were no longer counted in hours, but in liters of sweat poured, pages of grimoires consumed, and bruises accumulated during dawn training sessions.
Training sessions began when the sun was still a faint rosy reflection behind the peaks of the mountains of Alius. It was no longer about mere exchanges of blows; it had become a symbiotic dance between Zhilian's instinctive magic and Hayjin's cold scientific calculation.
In the secret courtyard of the residence, Hayjin traced complex diagrams in the sand with the tip of his new resonance sword.
"See here, Zhilian? If you charge your light bolt with a right-handed rotation instead of a linear one, you create a pressure vacuum that destabilizes the enemy's shield even before impact," he explained, while the girl listened with an attention she had never reserved for any Mage, not even a Grade S.
"So I shouldn't hit harder, but... faster at a specific point?" she asked, trying it immediately. The bolt shot out, whistling through the air, and thanks to Hayjin's instructions, it pierced a reinforced leather mannequin as if it were tissue paper.
"Exactly. Physics never lies, even when driven by mana," he countered with a satisfied smirk.
They spent hours studying recovery strategies and emergency protocols. Hayjin had created "alphabetical contingency plans," from Plan A (perfect success) to Plan Z (desperate retreat). They analyzed maps of possible dungeons, studying the classification of spirits that Zhilian hated so much, but which now thanks to Hayjin's absurd analogies comparing lower-class demons to software bugs she managed to memorize with ease.
Despite the crushing pressure, their daily life was tinged with a domestic sweetness that neither had ever truly experienced.
Meals were the only moments when the war stayed outside the door. They all gathered in the large hall of Rhaegalur's cabin or in the private apartments of the palace. Elara took care of preparing hearty dishes: venison stews, roasted sweet roots, and fragrant bread.
Rhaegalur sat at the head of the table, observing the two youths with a mix of fatherly pride and millennial severity.
"Eat up, Hayjin. Bones aren't strengthened by intelligence, but by meat," the dragon would say, pushing a portion of food toward him that would have fed an ox.
"And you, Zhilian, stop hovering the cutlery. Use your hands, or you'll forget how the earth feels."
Games were their outlet. On rainy evenings, Hayjin had taught Zhilian and even Elara some Earth card games. Seeing a Dragon God try to understand the rules of "Poker" or "Briscola" was a sight Hayjin wished he could photograph. Zhilian, of course, tried to cheat by using small puffs of magic to peek at Hayjin's cards, leading to chases across the sofas and laughter that echoed throughout the house.
Sleep often came from exhaustion. Frequently, after hours spent over tactical books in the library, they would end up falling asleep together on the same rug or on the large sofa in front of the fireplace. Hayjin with a book open over his face, Zhilian curled up against his side, her head resting on his shoulder. In those moments of vulnerability, they weren't the Princess and her companion; they were just two souls seeking comfort in each other before the storm. Elara would cover them with a wool blanket, exchanging a knowing look with Rhaegalur: they both knew that bond was their most powerful weapon.
As the exam date approached, the atmosphere grew denser. Every training session was now a life-or-death simulation.
Hayjin had learned to feel the "vibration" of his resonance sword, managing to deflect small magical projectiles not with force, but by intercepting their center of mass. Zhilian had become more lethal, more precise, capable of alternating devastating attacks with fluid defensive movements suggested by Hayjin's tactical analyses.
"Are you ready?" she asked him one evening, as they watched the moon of Alius rise over the spires of Opes.
Hayjin gripped the hilt of his sword, feeling the warmth of the metal. "No. But our chances of success have increased significantly thanks to our efforts. I'd say it's the best bet I've ever made."
Zhilian took his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. "We will win, Hayjin. For us, for Wren, and to show those old Sages that there is still hope to rebuild Opes."
The dawn of the exam day rose over Alius with an unusually cold color, a metallic gray filtering through the shutters of Rhaegalur's cabin, bringing with it the omen of an imminent change. Inside, the silence was broken only by the soft crackle of the last logs in the hearth and the metallic clinking of buckles being tightened and leather being polished.
Hayjin sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on his resonance sword. He slid it into the scabbard one last time, checking that the locking mechanism was fluid. Beside him, his backpack had been reorganized three times: rations, bandages, neutral mana crystals, and his precious notebooks full of ballistic calculations.
"Check the left strap of the shoulder pad, Hayjin. It looks loose," Zhilian said, appearing in the doorway. She wore her light combat armor, a combination of silver scales and midnight blue silk that reflected the dim light. Despite the fatigue of the last few days of training, her eyes shone with fierce determination, even if her fingers betrayed a slight tremor as she tightened her gloves.
"Done," he replied, standing up and stretching. "And you? Did you get the reagents for that circular barrier spell? If we end up in an environment saturated with unstable mana, we'll need them."
"All here, in the side pouch," she replied, hinting at a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
As they descended into the main hall, they found Rhaegalur standing by the door, his massive figure seemingly occupying half the room. He wore no armor; his very presence was an impenetrable defense. He watched the two youths with a look Hayjin couldn't quite decipher: it was a mix of ancient severity and an almost human concern.
"Listen well," the Dragon God began, his deep voice seeming to vibrate the plates on the table. "The Mages' Association is not the Council of Sages. They do not play with politics; they play with reality. The scenarios they create are alive, heavy, and lethal. If you think the creatures you've faced in these past days are a benchmark, you are fools. The exam will be harder, more brutal, and more unfair than your imagination can conceive."
Zhilian didn't answer. She simply tightened her grip on her weapon's hilt, her gaze fixed toward the outside. The princess's silence was unusual, a signal that she was already entering the "zone" of mental combat.
Hayjin, instead, sighed, shaking his head with a half-smile. "Rhae, seriously. If you keep this up, I'll arrive at Opes with a panic attack before I even see the first monster. We've studied, we've trained with you who is, by the way, the strongest and scariest thing in this kingdom and we have a plan for every eventuality (or at least I hope we do...). Stop worrying unnecessarily. We aren't the greenhorns we were a month ago."
Rhaegalur stared at him for a long time, his vertical pupils narrowing. He let out a sigh that sounded like a gust of icy wind. "You're right, boy. Perhaps my memory of millennia makes me too aware of how many things can go wrong. But doubt is what keeps warriors alive."
Just then, Elara approached from the kitchen. She carried a small cloth bag containing freshly baked bread and dried medicinal herbs. Her face, usually serene, was lined with ill concealed emotion.
She stopped in front of Zhilian. With a motherly gesture, she took the girl's face in her hands and gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek, then pulled her into an embrace that smelled of home and safety. "Come back safe and sound, Princess," she whispered in her ear. "The grade doesn't matter, the crown doesn't matter. Just try to come back whole."
Zhilian returned the embrace with strength, closing her eyes for an instant. "I promise you, Elara."
Then the woman turned to Hayjin. She looked at him with a tenderness that caught the boy by surprise. She gave him a kiss on the cheek as well and held him in a sincere embrace. "And you, Hayjin... protect her at all costs, but protect yourself too. You've become part of this family more than you might believe. Good luck to both of you. Come back safe, understood?"
Hayjin, a bit embarrassed but strangely moved, returned the hug. "Thanks, Elara. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to her. And I'll be back to finish that card tournament; I still have a few tricks to show you."
The woman smiled happily, nodding.
"It's time," Rhaegalur thundered, interrupting the moment. "The sun is rising, and I don't think the Association will wait for latecomers. Let's move."
They went outside, where the fresh morning air hit their faces. With a fluid and terrifying movement, Rhaegalur resumed his original form. An explosion of ebony scales, wings that blacked out the sky, and a majesty that took their breath away. The dragon lowered his long neck, allowing Hayjin and Zhilian to climb onto his back, between the powerful dorsal ridges.
"Hold on tight," the dragon's voice commanded in their minds. "We will go at full speed. I don't want the Sages to have time to change their minds by seeing you arrive late."
Hayjin and Zhilian turned one last time. Elara remained on the threshold of the cabin, a small but bright figure against the dark wood, waving her hand in one last silent farewell.
"Bye, Elara! See you in a few days!" Hayjin shouted, waving his arm.
Zhilian raised her hand, a solemn gesture full of promises.
Then, with a beat of wings that crushed the surrounding grass and kicked up a storm of leaves, Rhaegalur took off. The acceleration was brutal a kick of energy that pushed Hayjin against the dragon's back, knocking the breath out of him. In a few seconds, the cabin became a dot, then disappeared into the forests, while the snowy mountain peaks blurred past them.
The wind whistled in their ears, cold and sharp. Hayjin looked at Zhilian, sitting just ahead. Her hair whipped the air like blue flames. She turned, her eyes met his, and for the first time that morning, there was no fear, but absolute complicity.
Opes appeared on the horizon, its white walls shining like a mirage. The exam was about to begin. Their future was there, beyond the clouds.
Rhaegalur's landing was less like a storm and more like a shudder of the earth itself. When the enormous ebony wings folded with a metallic rustle, the silence that enveloped the private garden of Opes' royal palace was almost unnatural. Hayjin climbed down from the dragon's back, still feeling the tingling of the high altitude in his legs, while Zhilian leaped to the ground with the nervous grace of a feline ready to strike.
Except as soon as they arrived, they noticed immediately that something was wrong. There was something strange, a peculiar sensation.
"It's... weird," Hayjin muttered, adjusting his armor's shoulder pad. He looked around, observing the marble porticos and the manicured flowerbeds. "Where's the crowd? I expected trumpet fanfares, carriages, hundreds of nervous candidates vomiting in the bushes. Instead... it looks like a damn graveyard."
Zhilian frowned, brushing a lock of blue hair from her face. "Maybe we're late? Or maybe the protocol has changed. In theory, the exam opening is a public event, but here there isn't even a servant to sweep the leaves."
Rhaegalur, having resumed his human form with a fluid gesture, scanned the shadows of the pillars. "It's not lateness, Zhilian. It's isolation. Something in the air smells of secrecy," he said, his deep voice echoing in the deserted courtyard. "Better to go. Answers certainly won't come looking for us if we stand still here. Let's go, kids."
They headed quickly toward the imposing monumental entrance. As soon as they crossed the threshold, four figures wrapped in gray tunics studded with silver embroidery the official uniform of the Mages' Association emerged from the sides of the corridor. They did not raise weapons, but their posture was charged with formal authority.
"Praise be to the Lord of the Heavens and the earth you tread upon," the eldest of the group began, bowing deeply not toward Zhilian, but toward Rhaegalur. "Dragon God, your presence honors these walls more than words can express. we bring you greetings from the Association."
Rhaegalur gave a sharp nod, a minimal acknowledgment. "Save the formalities. Where is everyone else?"
The mage then turned to Zhilian with a less profound but respectful bow. "Princess Zhilian, we were waiting for you. You are the last to report. Please head immediately toward the Central Throne Room. The official presentation is about to begin. The Grand Master and the Sages are already in position."
"The last?" Hayjin asked in a whisper as they resumed walking through the deserted corridors. "But there's no one outside! How many participants are there...?"
"Actually, I don't understand, Hayjin... the Association exam is for the elite, and that's fine," Zhilian replied, though her tone betrayed growing uncertainty. "But usually, there are at least twenty or thirty teams from the neighboring kingdoms. This silence is... strangely unsettling."
The enormous bronze doors of the Central Room swung on their hinges without emitting a single creak. Hayjin mentally prepared for a wall of stares, whispers, and hostility, but what he saw left him literally open-mouthed.
The hall, capable of holding thousands of people, was bathed in a solemn gloom, lit only by high beams of magical light raining from the ceiling. In the center of the immense cerulean carpet, there were no crowds. There were no armies of mages.
There were only two people.
They seemed motionless as statues, surrounded by an aura of power so dense it made the hair on Hayjin's arms stand up. The first was a boy average height, lean and fit, with light blond hair tinged with red wearing a long, sartorially cut white coat. The sleeves were distinctive: the upper part was white, while the lower section (from the forearms down) was a vibrant red with gold borders. His hand rested on the hilt of a regal-looking longsword, and his gaze was fixed forward, seemingly vacant and cold as a mirror. Beside him stood a girl with long hair as white as snow and an elven appearance with pointed ears, dressed in noble attire that combined the elegance of a lady with the practicality of a first-class enchanter.
"What the hell..." Hayjin whispered, stopping a few meters from them. "Zhilian, are the others hidden behind the curtains?"
Zhilian was frozen, her gaze fixed on the girl. "There are no others, Hayjin. Those... those aren't just any mages."
At that moment, the sound of heavy, rhythmic footsteps echoed from the royal podium. The Sages of Opes entered in single file, with Arkon and Varek in the lead, their faces tight with expressions of extreme gravity. But they were not alone.
In the center of the group walked a woman who emanated such authority she made the Sages look like mere valets. She wore a purple robe that seemed made of solidified flames and wore the Association's gold medallion on her chest: it was Adeline, the regional leader of the Mages' Association, one of the most powerful women on the continent.
Adeline stopped in the center of the podium, her sharp eyes passing from Zhilian to Hayjin, pausing for a respectful instant on Rhaegalur.
"Welcome, Princess Zhilian," Adeline said, her clear voice filling every corner of the hall without the need for amplification spells. "And welcome to you as well, unknown boy. We feared your preparation would keep you beyond the time limit."
"Grand Master Adeline," Zhilian replied with a nod, trying to maintain her royal composure despite the confusion. "May I ask for an explanation? Where are this year's candidates? Where are the delegations from Valoria and the Northern Isles?"
Adeline hinted at an enigmatic smile. "This year the Association decided to prepare a special exam, different from the usual and only directed at specific candidates, selected both by the Association and by the sending kingdom."
"We decided to select only those who carry the weight of their kingdoms' destiny."
"This year, the exam will be exclusive just for this time; it will be completed by the candidates in their respective kingdoms. I don't need to explain the reason; I believe you already know it."
She pointed with her hand to the two figures who had ignored Zhilian's arrival until that moment.
"Princess Zhilian of Opes, allow me to introduce your only rivals, and potential allies in this special exam. From the nation of Doeken, she who holds the title of the strongest elf of her kingdom: Princess Evelyn of Doeken."
The girl with the white hair turned slowly. Her eyes were of a violet so light they seemed vividly alive. She did not smile; she gave a nod so minimal it seemed almost like an insult.
"And by her side," Adeline continued, "he who is recognized as the strongest knight of the kingdom of Doeken: Atlas Altavilla, the first knight of Doeken and leader of the Magic Knights of Doeken."
The boy, Atlas, finally shifted his gaze to Hayjin. There was something mechanical in his movement, a precision that had nothing human about it. "Opes sends a princess and... a little boy... and one without mana at that?" Atlas asked, his voice low and devoid of inflection. "I hoped this trial would be a challenge, not a circus for children."
Hayjin felt the blood rush to his head. He took a step forward, ignoring Varek's warning look. "Hey, you, don't go getting any strange ideas about me. Often, underestimating your opponent is exactly the kind of mistake that screws you over just when you think you've already won."
The silence that followed was broken only by Rhaegalur's soft, unsettling chuckle behind Hayjin. "Oh, this mission is getting much more interesting than what the Sages sold me," the dragon murmured, his golden eyes shining with malignant amusement as he observed the tension between the four youths.
Adeline clapped her hands once, and the sound was like a cannon shot. "That is enough. The introductions are over. Get ready, children; this year's exam will reflect the brutality of the change currently happening on ALIUS. Follow me. It is time to open the dungeon's seal."