The testing grounds were just beyond the academy's outer ring; they're probably used for those who have yet to pass the entrance exams but are still considered potential students. You could see rune-etched pillars rise at even intervals, each pillar humming faintly with contained Aether.
Controlled conditions.
I could feel the Codex react the moment I stepped into the arena.
[ENVIRONMENTAL STRUCTURE DETECTED]
[AETHER SUPPRESSION LATTICE: ACTIVE]
[SPELL AMPLIFICATION: DISABLE]
[OBSERVATION DENSITY: HIGH]
It seemed like this place limits any excess Aether, probably to block any artefacts or borrowed power that could give someone an advantage during the tests.
Around us, candidates gathered in loose clusters, their silk-robed heirs flanked by retainers, sponsored students with crests stitched into their collars, and scattered commoners like Ryn and me, standing a little straighter than we should, myself with a quiet confidence.
Ryn leaned in, voice low. "Wow, that's a lot of nobles."
"Judging by the look on their faces, they think it's going to be easy," I replied quietly.
He snorts. "Well, I guess they're in for a rude awakening."
His confidence surprised me; it wasn't loud or defiant, but set. Like someone who's already decided he won't go quietly.
At the centre of the arena, three examiners wait. One wears the white-and-gold mantle of the Academy proper. Another is clad in dark steel, a combat assessor. The third… I couldn't recognise, but the air bends subtly around them.
The mantle-wearer raised their hand, and the murmurs died instantly.
"Today's aptitude trials will assess Aether responsiveness, control, and adaptability," he announces. "You will be called individually. Do not interfere. Do not enhance others. Failure to comply will result in immediate disqualification."
A pause.
"Also, we do not care about bloodline status."
The nobles didn't look convinced.
The first few trials were precisely what I expected: a noble girl summoning a blazing arc of fire. It was flashy, overextended, and, honestly, inefficient.
[SPELL INEFFICIENCY DETECTED]
[ENERGY LOSS: 61%]
Looks like the Codex agreed with me. I couldn't say the same for the examiners, though, as they all nodded in delight.
Next was a sponsored boy who stabilised a wind construct; it was technically precise, but painfully cautious.
[STRUCTURE INTEGRITY: HIGH]
[ADAPTABILITY: LOW]
Ryn, beside me, watched with narrowed eyes.
"It all looks like a routine, it's exactly the same way they were taught," he muttered.
"Yes," I said. "The tests are looking for adaptability, and so far I've seen none of that."
"Ryn Falen." An examiner called out.
When his name was called, a ripple passed through the stands. No crest. No lineage announcement.
He stepped forward anyway.
The task was simple: manifest a stable Aether construct and adapt it when disrupted.
Ryn closed his eyes.
I felt it before I saw it; his Aether surged raw and wild, not refined but dense. He formed a compact sphere of compressed force, holding it together through sheer will.
The combat assessor flicks a finger. The suppression field spiked.
Ryn's construct wavered, but Ryn did not look worried. Instead, he grits his teeth and decides against reinforcing it; he lets it break, pulling the fragments back together into something new.
Something sharper.
A blade-like edge forms mid-collapse.
The disruption hits again.
Ryn pivots, turns the pressure into motion, and sends the construct spinning, not stable, not elegant, but brutally effective.
The blade embeds itself into the pillar behind him, humming violently before dissipating.
Silence.
The examiner blinked. "Candidate... what is the name of the technique you just used?"
Ryn opened his eyes, breathing hard. "Um... I don't really know what it's called."
The combat assessor smiled, despite the numerous scoffs and laughter from the nobles by the sidelines.
"Adaptation under stress," the combat assessor says. "Rare. Not refined and could be dangerous, but not bad."
Ryn stepped back, his shoulders square. He doesn't smile, but once he met my eyes, a flicker was there.
'Did you see that?'
I nod.
'I did.'
I guess I can't go falling behind after what Ryn did.
My name was called shortly after.
"Kael Arin."
No murmurs. No expectations.
I walked forward, my pulse steady, my confidence calm. The Codex overlayed the area instantly.
[AETHERR LATTICE MAPPED]
[DISRUPTION NODES IDENTIFIED]
[EXAMINER FOCUS: 73%]
The task was the same as Ryn's. Slightly boring, but oh well.
I raised my hand and stopped.
Instead of casting, I observed.
The examiners exchanged glances.
[DELAY REGISTERED]
[NO SPELL FORMATION DETECTED]
I let my Aether flow inward, not outward, this time syncing with the suppression field and not resisting it.
[FIELD INTERACTION]
[LOCAL RULE SET: MAPPED]
Then I act. I formed a flame, not large, not bright, but compact enough to burn a hole the size of a fist into any construct that meets it. It was perfectly contained.
The examiner nods. "Basic. Adequate control. Good"
Then the disruption hits.
The flame should've collapsed.
But it didn't.
I instead rotate the internal flow, redistributing pressure along the suppression vectors.
The fire compresses, then tightens, then sharpens.
Not a blast. A line. The flame snaps forward, slicing cleanly through the interference and stopping inches short of the examiner's ward.
The arena went quiet soon after.
[SPELL STRUCTURE DEVIATION DETECTED]
[UNKNOWN IGNIS CONFIGURATION RECORDED]
[EFFICIENCY: 89%]
That's not bad efficiency; there's still much to improve upon, but-.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden appearance of the combat assessor, who was a couple of inches away from me.
They looked directly at me.
"Explain your method," she said.
I lowered my hand. "I just didn't fight the disruption; I thought I could use it to strengthen the construct."
A pause.
The combat assessor laughed softly. "That is not how Ignis is taught... for someone your age."
"No," I agreed. "But it's how the Aether behaved, so I thought of trying it."
I could see the examiner quickly scribbling something, the combat assessor squinting their eyes at me with intrigue, and shortly leaving after having their curiosity quenched.
I could feel it.
The shift.
All the nobles are reassessing me, some curious, some worried.
The examiners are recalculating.
The Codex is logging everything.
I stepped back into line, Ryn greeting me with a hefty laugh.
"Hahahaha, you're insane."
"Probably," I replied with a soft smile. "But it worked."
Ryn grinned, quick, sharp and genuine. "Yeah, I guess it did."
Across the arena, the ranking crystal flickered, names rearranging, subtle shifts in priority.
We weren't at the top.
At least not yet.
But now we're no longer invisible.
And I can feel it. The Codex humming, quiet and pleased.
Stone pylons rise from the earth in a wide circle, each etched with ancient runes that glow faintly blue. Between them, the ground has been flattened and reinforced with Aether-binding sigils, a sanctioned battleground. Temporary stands have been raised along the edges, filled with villagers, travelling merchants, and more than a few finely dressed spectators who clearly don't belong this far from the capital.
Nobles.
I can feel their stares before I see them.
Around me, dozens of other participants gather, some in simple clothes like mine, others in layered robes, crests stitched proudly into collars and sleeves. The nobles clustered together, something I expected. Their voices confident and their laughter sharp.
Commoners stood apart.
That's where I am.
That's where Ryn is.
He arrives late, slipping in beside me with a crooked grin, red hair wind-tousled and eyes bright with something between excitement and hunger.
"Well," he muttered, surveying the crowd, "this is subtle."
"You look like you're enjoying all this attention," I said.
"I enjoy any place where people underestimate me, and that happens a lot," he replied.
I glanced at him. Lean build, swift movements, clothes worn reinforced at the seams. His Aether feels... restless, like air trapped in a balloon."
Unstable, powerful and dangerous.
A tall figure stepped onto the central dais.
She wears white and gold, the Academy colours, and the Aether around her bends instinctively, as if reality itself is standing at attention.
[FOREIGN AETHER SIGNATURE DETECTED]
[CLASSIFICATION: HUMANOID]
[ENERGY DENSITY: EXTREME]
[THREAT LEVEL: SEVERE]
"Candidates," she says, her voice carrying without effort, "you are here because your potential has been observed."
Observed but not acknowledged.
"Today," she said, voice carrying without effort, "you will be assessed not by lineage, nor by reputation, but by application."
Murmurs followed.
"You will each fight once. One versus one. Victory is not required. Competence is."
A pause.
"Those who rely solely on inheritance will fail. Those who rely solely on desperation will fail. We want to see how you think. How you adapt."
Kael felt Ryn tense beside him.
"That sounds fair," Ryn muttered. "Which means it probably won't be."
And then finally.
"Let the pairings begin."
The first battles began quickly.
Two nobles stepped forward, both from minor houses. The first conjured Ignis: Flame Whip, a crackling ribbon of fire snapping through the air. The second countered with Aegis Terra, stone plating rising over his forearms.
They clashed, fire against stone, spectacular and loud, but inefficient.
I watched closely.
[SPELL IDENTIFIED: IGNIS - FLAME WHIP]
[ENERGY EFFICIENCY: 41%]
[STRUCTURAL WEAKNESS: LATERAL INSTABILITY]
The stone shattered after prolonged impact. The match ended as soon as the second noble yielded, panting, their Aether reserves nearly depleted.
Applause followed, but the examiners barely reacted.
One after another, participants take the field, some of them had their names announced with unnecessary grandeur.
A water-affinity noble froze the ground beneath her opponent's feet, winning without ever needing to land a blow.
An earth mage repeatedly raised layered stone barriers and waited patiently until his opponent exhausted himself.
Some of them were clean, some were efficient, and some were predictable.
The examiners watch, expressionless, making notes.
Ryn leaned in closer. "These guys are burning through their Aether with everything they've got."
"Yes," I said softly. "Some of them look like they're trying to prove they've got Aether in the first place."
"You can say that again," Ryn replied.
Not too long after.
"Kael Arin."
Ryn's eyes widened slightly. "That's you."
I nodded and stepped forward.
A murmur runs through the crowd, but the name 'Kael Arin' means nothing to them.
My opponent's name does.
Lorian Valcrest steps forward with a smirk already on his face.
He's tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in crimson-trimmed combat robes. Gold rings glint on his fingers, expensive ones. His hair is pale blond, eyes burning with arrogance.
He doesn't bother bowing.
"A commoner," he says lightly. "Try not to embarrass yourself."
I inclined my head. "I'll do my best."
The examiner raised her hand.
"Begin."
Lorian moved first. "Ignis: Fireburst!"
Fire erupts from his palms in twin arcs, sweeping outward in a wide, aggressive wave meant to force me back.
I stepped forward instead.
"Ignis Vector."
A thin lance forms instantly, narrow and brilliant. It punches straight through the heart of the Firburst, splitting it cleanly, leaving two halves dispersing harmlessly to either side.
The crowd grasped.
[SPELL: IGNIS VECTOR]
[FORM: LINEAR COMPRESSION LANCE]
[EFFICIENCY: 92%]
Lorian's eyes widen.
"What—"
I close the distance.
The noble's smile vanished.
He snarled and followed with Ignis: Flame Barrage, launching a volley of firebolts.
Each bolt met a flick of his wrist. Ignis Vector reshaped into short-range projectiles, needle-thin darts of heat that pierced through incoming spells, detonating them at safe distances.
After condensing it into a blade of light no longer than my forearm, I slash, not at him but at the Aether construct around his body.
His defensive weave collapses with a sharp crack.
He stumbles back, shock flashing across his face.
Lorian panics, drawing a blade and reinforcing it with Ignis: Burning Edge.
I don't let him recover.
The lance fractures, not breaking, but multiplying.
Three vectors fire from my hand in rapid succession, narrow and precise projectiles that streak across the space between us.
He barely blocks with his sword in time.
Barely.
The first projectile punches through, grazing his shoulder and burning through fabric.
The second shatters the barrier entirely.
The third stops a finger's breadth from his throat, causing him to block and shatter his sword.
Silence.
At three steps' distance, I shifted stances and condensed Ignis Vector into a close-combat form, a short blazing lance extending from my palm.
I drove it forward.
The noble stumbled back, shock written across his face.
I stopped, my lance dissipating.
"Yield," I said.
The noble fell to one knee, breathing hard. "I... yield."
Silence.
The examiner's voice cuts in, "Winner. Kael Arin."
Murmers to begin to form, then outright whispers.
The examiner's eyes lingered on Kael a moment longer than necessary.
Ryn stares at me, dumbfounded.
"You don't even look tired," he whispers.
"I am," I say. "He just made it easy."
"That's supposed to be easy?" Ryn scoffs.
It's Ryn's turn now.
Ryn's name is called next.
His opponent is smaller than Lorian, but far more dangerous-looking. Seris Montclair, a noble with sharp eyes and a wind affinity that crackles visibly around her.
She bows mockingly.
Ryn doesn't bow at all.
"Try not to die," the Seris said.
Ryn didn't answer.
The moment the signal is given, Seris attacks, wind blades screaming through the air.
"Ventus: Crushing Gale!" A dense wall of wind slammed forward.
Ryn barely dodged, rolling hard across the stone.
Too slow!" she taunts.
Ryn laughs, breathless, wild. "Ha.. Ha.. You think?"
Wind explodes around him.
Not clean. Not refined.
"Ventus: Cutting Draft!" Ryn shouted, hurling a jagged blade of air that tore across the arena.
It clipped the noble's shoulder, and their blood sprayed.
The noble hissed and retaliated with Ventus: Pressure Bind, wind wrapping around Ryn's limbs, trying to crush him in place.
Ryn screamed, not in fear, but fury.
"Get—OFF—ME!"
Aether surged wildly.
The Codex flares in my vision even from the sidelines.
[SPELL IDENTIFIED: VENTUS - TURBULENT BREAK]
STABILITY: LOW]
[OUTPUT: EXTREME]
The binding shattered explosively, wind ripping outward in chaotic spirals. Ryn staggered, bleeding from the nose, barely standing.
The noble advanced, confident.
Ryn laughed, breathless, unhinged.
"Let's see how you like it messy."
Air screams as pressure collapses inward, then detonates outward in a chaotic blast.
Seris is thrown off her feet, slamming into a pillar.
She recovers fast, throwing up a shield — but Ryn is already moving, riding the wind like a thrown knife.
He crashes into her defences, hammering them with brute force, no finesse, no elegance, just relentless pressure.
Seris counters with precision, slicing currents, layered vectors meant to carve Ryn apart piece by piece.
He gets hit.
Hard.
A blade slams into his side, sending him skidding across the ground.
He coughs, blood flecking his lips.
The crowd gasps.
"Yield!" someone shouts.
Ryn spits blood into the dirt and stands anyway.
"No!" he snarls. "My turn."
He raises both hands and pulls.
Not shaping the wind, but grabbing it.
He gathered everything he had left and unleashed Ventus: Cyclone Lash. A screaming, unstable vortex that slammed into the noble, lifted him off his feet, and hurled him across the arena.
The impact sends Seris sprawling unconscious across the stone.
Ryn drops to one knee, gasping, shaking.
After a long moment, the examiner raised her hand.
"Victory, Ryn Falen."
The crowd explodes again, louder this time.
Ryn laughs weakly, looking over at me.
As the examiner announced the result, I was already beside him, offering him a hand and pulling him up.
"You okay?" I asked
Ryn grinned weakly. "Barely. That was… awful."
Kael offered a hand and pulled him up. "You won."
Ryn looked at him, then laughed; it was genuine, breathless laughter.
"Haha. Guess we both did."