A couple more people went through their trials, nobody that caused much of a stir.
A paunchy noble boy, smug as could be, managed a slightly above-average score and acted like they should hand over the castle keys right then and there. His chest puffed out with unearned pride as he strutted back to the waiting candidates, clearly convinced of his own brilliance despite the mediocre crater he'd left in the stone wall.
But finally, it was Rowan's turn.
"Rowan Valdros," Igor said with a hesitant grunt, his voice carrying across the courtyard with less enthusiasm than it had for the titled nobles.
Rowan smirked and began walking forward. Jared patted him on the back and said, "Good luck."
"Don't need luck," Rowan replied, continuing his steady stride toward the testing area.
Behind him, Jared smiled, squinting his eyes as he leaned forward slightly, obviously curious to see what Rowan was truly made of.
There were no whispers rippling through the crowd as Rowan walked up to take his position. He had no last name that would be of any note to these people, no house sigil or family reputation preceding him. Yet he didn't necessarily seem to be some poor commoner boy either. He wore a tight-fitted brown buttoned leather vest over a white tunic, neither garment in poor condition. The leather was well-maintained, supple and clean, and his boots showed signs of quality craftsmanship, his short blonde hair falling slightly in front of his eyes as he walked and clean yet rough pale skin showing he wasn't nearly as pampered as others here.
He made it to the front and nodded respectfully to the Watch Commander, who watched him with a bit more stern of a gaze than he'd given the others. Igor's weathered face revealed nothing, but his eyes were sharp, assessing, waiting.
Rowan took a deep breath, centering himself as he faced the scarred target wall.
He outstretched his palms and summoned the aeth around him, feeling the invisible essence respond to his will and become visible. But something was different when he did it compared to when everyone else had demonstrated their abilities. It was a faint detail most would miss, a subtle variance in the way the energy gathered and moved, but not everyone missed it.
Hmm, very interesting, Sylas… your stray is one special boy indeed, Igor thought as he peered down at Rowan's display, his experienced eyes catching what others could not.
"W-what? A-amazing… i-it's different somehow. I don't get it," Jared muttered, his eyes widening as he watched. He couldn't quite put his finger on what made it unusual, but something about the gathering energy felt distinct, more potent somehow.
The ball of materializing aeth circulated around itself much faster than any before, the luminescent energy condensing tighter and tighter with each rotation. The air around Rowan's hands shimmered with barely contained power.
Aeth is an essence that floats in the air around them, believed to have been brought to their world by the Storms. People who awaken these special abilities — the Stormborn — manipulate the said aeth around them. They can take what is already present in the atmosphere and control it, bending it to their will through sheer force of mind and spirit. It is incredibly difficult to control the aeth surrounding you and condense it, manipulate it, or fuse it to your bones for reinforcement. It takes years of dedicated training or serious natural talent to one day bend that said aeth like water flowing through cupped hands.
But even then, there are restrictions to what one can accomplish. After all, a Stormborn's power is completely reliant on the aeth around them and their ability to bend it to their will. What Stormborn cannot do is create aeth from scratch — it is believed to be impossible, as it has never been done before even though many ambitious practitioners have tried.
Well, unless your name happens to be Rowan Valdros.
He's no master at it yet, still learning the full extent of his capabilities, but he is uniquely gifted with this very specific trait. And so the ball of aeth swirling in front of him, while still being created primarily with the ambient aeth around him, is also infused with his own handcrafted aeth, energy he generates from within himself. This gives him way more control than most practitioners will ever have, a flexibility and precision that sets him apart.
He released his emission blast with a focused exhale.
It slammed into the stone wall with a thunderous crack. The sound echoed through the courtyard like a cannon shot. Stone and debris exploded outward in a loud crumble, followed by a plume of gray smoke that slowly drifted upward into the morning air.
Awes cascaded from the small crowd as the smoke cleared, revealing a small crater carved into the wall, just barely smaller than that of Magnus's impressive mark.
Tsk, I wanted to blow that stupid pirate's show out of the water, Rowan thought, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. I need to work on my emission some more. The generation is there, but the focus and explosiveness could be sharper.
The group of candidates just stood and stared at this boy of unknown name getting the second-best emission performance yet. Several of the noble-born applicants exchanged glances, reassessing this apparent nobody who'd just outperformed most of them.
Igor snickered, a sound like gravel shifting. "Well done, student of Sylas. Looks like that old fart wasn't lying bout you after all."
Rowan looked up at the Watch Commander with a smile, his confidence restored. "Oh? Are you sure? I bet I'm way more handsome than he told you I was!"
Igor scoffed, looking at Rowan with skeptical eyes. "Time for reinforcement, boy."
Rowan nodded with a grin, and the Stormwatchers brought out the imposing tower of cinderblocks, each one dense and heavy, stacked precisely for the test.
Not long after, Rowan put on yet another amazing display, his fists crashing through the blocks with methodical precision. He destroyed eight of them completely, shards of broken stone scattering across the ground with each devastating blow. His knuckles remained unmarked, the aeth reinforcing his bones and flesh to withstand the impact.
The crowd awed once more.
By the result of his emission performance, they had assumed he must be destined to be an emission specialist, someone whose natural affinity lay in projecting destructive force. But now they weren't so sure. The lines were blurring.
It got even more bewildering once Rowan raised his hand and materialized a sword out of thin air, the blade shimmering into existence. With one clean, practiced motion, he sliced a large chunk out of the stone pillar, the manifested weapon cutting through solid rock as easily as through soft butter. The severed section hit the ground with a heavy thud.
The crowd fell silent, stunned into speechlessness.
Then whispers began to pop up like sparks catching fire.
"W-what's his specialty then?" the crowd began to ask amongst themselves, confusion and awe mixing in equal measure.
When suddenly, slow claps silenced them as the Watch Commander began to speak, his applause deliberate and measured. "Very impressive, student of Sylas… very impressive indeed, boy. You are a unique little mutt, ain't ya? A three-way specialist, just like that geezer said." Igor tilted his head and grinned, though there was something challenging in his expression. "But you know what they say, eh? A jack of all trades is a master of none."
Rowan's expression hardened, his jaw setting as he glared at the commander. "My name is Rowan, not 'Sylas's student,' and not 'boy,'" he said coldly before simply turning and walking back toward the crowd, his shoulders squared with dignity.
The candidates parted at his approach, people staring at him with wide, curious eyes.
"A three-way specialist?" someone whispered. "Is that even possible?" another asked. "How?" a third murmured, the questions rippling through the group like stones dropped in still water.