The youngest elven child can cast lesser magic at around thirty years old. The typical age for casting lesser magic is fifty. Late bloomers are considered to be those who fail to cast magic well into their nineties.
An exceptionally rare case is that of The Bloody Princess. It is said that she could not cast any magic until she was one hundred and fifty years old. This is by far the latest this author has ever heard of an elf casting magic.
What makes this particular scenario unusual is that her bloodline is royalty. Royal bloodlines are known to inherit some of the most powerful casting abilities. She is part of the Sylvian bloodline, nonetheless, so one can imagine how remarkable this case is.
Typically, the progenitors pass their magical potential and proficiencies onto their progeny. This seemed to skip The Bloody Princess entirely, which this author finds tragic.
A light of hope remains. Elise Sylvian appears to be more knowledgeable than most mages. If she ever cures her disease, she may even exceed the power of Firedeath herself.
First draft written by Kindly Barons.
Rejected by the chief editor of the Keceo Chronicles for slandering royalty.
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The congratulations had ended. It was now time for Gwyn to graduate from elementary school as a nineteen-year-old among fifty-year-old children.
"With our Chosen One successfully alighting the paper, that makes the entire class of Temptation succeed in this impromptu test of lesser magic." Mrs. Farcroft addressed the crowd. "If everyone can walk over here and form an orderly line in which you participated in the test, I will give you your diploma as proof of your magical ability."
The line quickly formed; children muttered to themselves.
"My dad is definitely going to put this on the fridge."
"I'm gonna frame this sucker and remember this day forever!" Another student shook excitedly.
Gwyn stood at the back of the line. Griffith was right in front of her. His posture illustrated that he was seething with rage. His shoulders were tense. He angrily muttered curses under his breath. Gwyn took this as an opportunity to gloat.
"Seems like I am not as worthless as you thought, Griffy."
His head whipped around, and his cheeks reddened through his mop-like curtains.
"D-don't call me that!"
He tried to stomp her feet, but she dodged and put her hand on his head as he swung his fists at her.
The crowd began to chant.
"Fight, fight, fight!"
"Both of you, knock it off!" Mrs. Farcroft shouted.
"She started it!" Griffith shouted.
"I sincerely doubt that," Mrs. Farcroft said under her breath.
"Yeah, Griffy, knock it off! We all know you like me. That's why you act like this," Gwyn taunted.
This seemed to make Griffith twice as angry. He squealed in rage, and Artero ran over. In one fluid motion, he picked up his little brother and whispered to him.
"This wasn't part of the plan."
"Screw the plan! I'm going to kill her!"
Griffith flailed like an animal fighting for its life.
"Sorry, we will collect his degree later."
Artero stormed off before Griffith could say anything revealing.
"This isn't over, Chosen One!"
Griffith flailed his arms in a worthless attempt to cast an attack at Gwyn.
Gwyn gave the raging adolescent a cutesy wave.
"Bye, Griffy!"
It seemed he tried to break his bones to escape his brother's grasp. As his screams faded, the ceremony returned to normal.
Gwyn shook her head.
"Man, it felt good to get back at him."
Elise was now standing by the Chosen One's side.
"What's his problem?"
Gwyn let out a long sigh.
"I wish I could tell you, Elise."
"He was never hostile to me. You must've done something."
"Are you really blaming me? I'm the victim!" Gwyn said, half-seriously.
"I'm just saying," Elise held up her hands in surrender. "He was always sweet when I was around."
"Maybe he's racist," Gwyn suggested.
"Ah, honestly, it might be a valid claim."
"Really?"
"No."
They both laughed.
Elise put her hand on Gwyn's waist.
"You did amazing, by the way! You cast magic!"
Gwyn flushed and scratched her head.
"N-no, it was nothing," she said humbly.
She avoided the elves' gaze as she approached Mrs. Farcroft.
The Sylvian wagged a finger at Gwyn.
"You are the equivalent of a prodigy, don't invalidate your achievements."
"I don't know about that."
Gwyn rolled her eyes.
The human, above all else, was grateful that she passed. It was like a weight being lifted. Although it was likely rigged in her favor, or someone helped her on the side, she just didn't know how yet.
"Only time will tell." Elise leaned in close and whispered in her ear. "Let's see if I can teach you any magic to use on me later."
Gwyn flushed immediately; those around her wondered what the Bloody Princess had just whispered in the Chosen One's ear that made her go so stiff. Gwynevere was now the only one left in the line, and Elise backed away to give Gwyn her moment in the spotlight.
"Congratulations, Gwynevere Grim." Mrs. Farcroft held out two diplomas. "One's for you, the other is for Griffith. Make sure it gets to him." She reached out her hand and then suddenly pulled Gwyn into a hug. "And that concludes the ceremony! You all can… return to class or whatever. Why are you all here anyway?"
Mrs. Farcroft jokingly scolded. The crowd dispersed except for the Sylvian princess and the class of Temptation.
The older students muttered how impressed they were, but truthfully, they were looking for anything to do outside of the ordinary. Either they watched the Chosen One embarrass herself, or succeed. A favorable outcome was guaranteed. They did leave with one piece of interesting information.
What were two royals doing with the new Chosen One?
Gwyn grabbed Mrs. Farcroft's arm in protest.
"Why do I have to give this to Griffith?"
"Oh." Mrs. Farcroft smiled devilishly. "You and the Kosmairian seem to have a relationship, but also the Sylvian Princess. Honestly? Good for you."
Gwyn was taken aback.
"What?
"I'm just saying, I can recognize when someone has game."
"No, no. I most certainly don't have 'game.'"
"Oh, so his embrace in front of everyone was a planned excursion? You did that for our entertainment?"
"Well… no. I didn't expect that."
"And just now, the Sylvian girl put her arm around your waist. Your face was pretty red from what I could tell. That was planned as well?"
"Well…"
Mrs. Farcroft narrowed her eyes.
"Sure, Ms. Grim, probably soon to be Mrs. Grim, at this rate. 'You don't have game.'" She leaned in and whispered something. "And if I may tell you, that was no ordinary paper."