Lightning rippled through the air. Alain barely saw it; his body reacted before his head had processed what happened.
The bolt struck where he'd stood half a breath earlier, splitting the marble clean.
It didn't matter. The only thing on his mind right now, survive.
Another line of lightning came, letting instinct take over, he barely unsheathed and deflected its trajectory using his dagger. As he was distracted, the figure blitzed forward.
The blow hit his chest like a hammer, sending him flying into the nearby wall. His right-hand Rune, Gebo, flickered.
He coughed, the taste of smoke and iron thick on his tongue.
Through the haze, the Guildmaster stood unmoved, light still humming faintly around his hand.
Alain coughed. His head spun.
How did I end up here again?
***
The capital was chaotic.
Carts rattled down the main street, pulled by rune-lit wheels. Voices overlapped: merchants shouting, adventurers arguing, hawkers selling their goods.
Lia's eyes widened as she turned in a slow circle. "It's so… loud."
"Chaotic," Alain corrected, though he couldn't help smiling.
Ceres led the way through the crowd, coat fluttering behind him. "Welcome to Elliot, jewel of the Finn territory. City of trade and commerce."
Lia smiled faintly. "And it's… safe?"
"Relatively," Ceres admitted. "Most nobles keep a manor here, usually within walking distance of the Academy."
Alain watched as a pair of knights bowed to a passing carriage, armor gleaming white under lamplight. "Feels different," he murmured. "Like nothing bad ever happens here."
"That's the trick," Ceres said. "It usually just looks that way. Plenty of suspicious things happen here."
Ceres stopped at the edge of the main square. The Guild Hall towered above them, marble and silver rune decorations catching the light like glass.
"Here we are," Ceres said, straightening his coat. "Registration first, then evaluation."
"Hold up…evaluation?" Alain questioned, catching Ceres by the sleeve.
Ceres kept walking. "Standard procedure. Every registered Rune holder undergoes a capability test."
"I thought this was registration, not an exam."
"Registration is an exam," Ceres said. "The Guild likes to make sure you won't accidentally blow up a building first."
Lia hesitated at the foot of the Guild steps. "What are the contents?"
Ceres replied, "Don't know, anything can happen with the Guild—it depends on…him, as well."
Alain snapped his head back, "What?!"
"Better to be prepared, right? Put that equipment you were provided to good use." Ceres said with a faint grin.
He pushed the heavy glass doors open. The Guild Hall's main chamber was vast and bright sunlight filtered through enchanted skylights. Behind rows of desks, clerks sorted glowing ledgers that turned pages by themselves.
Alain stopped mid-step, trying not to stare at the ceiling. "This place is… fancy."
"You'll get used to it," Ceres said, approaching the front desk. He slid a parchment across to a clerk with a single, practiced motion. "Bertran Finn's sponsorship papers. Two cadets for registration and initial evaluation."
The clerk barely glanced up. "Assessment floor three. Guildmaster's orders."
Ceres paused. "…Wait, he's doing it himself?"
Before the clerk could answer, the air beside Alain twisted.
A ripple of pressure passed through the hall, soft, almost like a sigh. Then, space itself folded, light bent, warping his vision.
The world folded, and suddenly marble tiles stretched beneath his feet."
He looked up. Across from him stood a large man around his forties, with a neatly braided beard and a dark coat. The figure watched him with calm eyes, arms crossed.
"Alain Vale," the man said evenly. "Sponsored by House Finn. Registration and evaluation, approved."
Alain's mouth went dry. "Where—how—"
"Heh." The man smiled, electricity crackling around his fingers. "Do try to keep up."
The world flashed white.
Seconds later, Alain hit the wall hard. Blood spilled across his hand as he clutched his stomach.
Ahhh… that's what happened.
Wiping burned marble debris from his hair, he slowly pushed himself back up.
"I can't lie, you've got good instincts, kid."
The man cracked his knuckles. With a single step, he appeared before Alain, hand clad in lightning, a strike imminent.
Then the floor erupted.
A shockwave burst beneath his foot, the pressure snapping air outward. Dust and shards lifted in the blast. His strike fell through smoke, empty.
He exhaled once, eyes narrowing through the haze. There, something flickered across the floor where the boy had stood.
ᚱ— Raido (Push)
The air shifted.
Even through the dust, he felt it, a disturbance in pressure. It was too quiet.
He turned before thought could form. Lightning gathered along his forearm, his body already pivoting.
Alain was there. A blur of motion cutting through the haze, heel aimed for his head.
He raised his palm, catching the kick. The impact cracked like thunder, sparks sliding off his skin before vanishing.
Alain stayed still for an instant, the man's grip stayed firm.
Through the thinning dust, he twisted. A flash of metal followed.
The gleam came fast. The man shifted as the blade went up, twisting his torso a step back from the steel's trajectory.
He pivoted, but realized he had let the boy's leg go, and Alain had stepped back, creating distance.
Alain's lungs burned, the air thick with dust. In front, the man stood ready. However, Alain's gaze went somewhere else: his still flickering sigil next to the man's leg.
He pushed forward, his blade aiming at the Guildmaster's torso. However, the man was ready. He dropped low, catching Alain's wrist with his arm.
With a twist, Alain yelped. Pain shot up his arm, sharp and electric. His fingers went numb, the dagger clattering against the floor.
The Guildmaster didn't move. His grip tightened around Alain's wrist,
"Is that all?" His voice was steady, almost bored.
Alain grit his teeth, muscles straining against the hold. "You talk too much."
A flicker of amusement crossed the man's face, just before the marble under his boot began to hum.
He looked down, realization hitting like thunder. ᚱ— Raido (Push)
The ground detonated.
Air and dust erupted outward, the force tearing through the marble tiles. The Guildmaster's hold shattered; lightning scattered into the haze.
Alain's body spun with the blast, thrown upward in a blur of heat and motion. Using the momentum, he twisted his body, eyes locked on the man below.
"KINDLE!"
The word tore from his throat, not a command but desperation set aflame.
Golden fire roared to life, racing up his arm like liquid sunlight. The air warped under the heat, Gebo, flickering wildly.
He drove his hand down on the Guildmaster's back.
Time slowed. The flame surged outward, a rising tide of light and sound—
—then started to fizzle out.
The glow flickered once, the gold dimming to ember. Then nothing.
Silence hung in the air. Alain's eyes widened. The heat that should have burst outward turned inward, crawling under his skin.
The Guildmaster moved at last. Lightning flared from his shoulder, then thunder followed.
Alain's body flew upon impact, thrown across the arena. Before he reached the wall, a cocoon of light surrounded him.
Ceres approached from the door, hand raised. Concept burning from his right hand.
ᛦ — Ljóss (Light)
He set the cocoon down gently. His Concept dulled as he extinguished the spell. Alain was unconscious.
"Ha…." Ceres sighed, "Why is each and every single Thor so crude."