The Sanctum of Arcanum—the heart of Astralis Institute's magical instruction—hummed with power.
Crystal spires rose from the floors like natural formations, pulsing softly with leyline energy. Floating rings of runes danced across the air, reacting to the presence of students as they entered. The scent of old tomes, burnt herbs, and static mana thickened the atmosphere.
Celeste stepped into the room with measured quiet, Lyra at her side, wide-eyed and humming softly in awe.
"Whoa," Lyra whispered. "I feel like I stepped into the inside of a spellbook."
Celeste didn't reply, though she felt it too—the resonance of pure mana tickling her skin. Even her sealed constellation marks pulsed faintly in recognition.
A group of students gathered around the central platform, where a woman stood waiting.
She was tall and sharp as a blade, with storm-silver hair braided into a tight crown and robes that shimmered like flowing starlight. Her eyes were a piercing shade of sapphire, and when she spoke, her voice struck with clarity.
"I am Instructor Seraphine Kaelis, Senior Arcanist of Astralis," she announced. "And today, we begin the Foundations of Spellcasting."
A few students murmured excitedly. Others, like Celeste, remained still.
"Regardless of the magic you inherited—whether dragonborn fire, shadowmeld, or nature's grace—there are universal spells every mage must master. Shields. Detection. Channeling. These spells do not depend on your noble bloodline. They depend on one thing."
She raised her hand, and a glowing orb of mana formed in her palm—light blue, swirling gently.
"Mana. The breath of magic. Without it, you are no mage."
A wave of pressure rolled over the class.
Seraphine lowered her hand and continued. "Today, you will be tested. If your mana pool is viable, you will be accepted into the Magical Major. If not, you will be evaluated for Combat Major—where physical strength is honed through swordsmanship and battlefield tactics. Every student must specialize in one."
This caused a stir. A few students glanced around nervously.
Celeste remained unreadable.
She could level the room with her mana. Her body was a wellspring of celestial energy—enough to rival the archmages of Astralis.
But she wouldn't. She couldn't.
Instead, she closed her eyes, reached inside, and let a flicker escape—just enough to light her palm with a soft, pale glow.
Only ten percent.
The orb hovered like a dying star. Weak, but functional.
Instructor Seraphine passed her by, giving a brief nod. "Marginal, but acceptable."
Celeste exhaled silently in relief.
Lyra, meanwhile, was biting her lip and sweating slightly as she concentrated. A vibrant green light sparked to life between her hands, flickering wildly at first, then stabilizing.
"Hmm," Seraphine said, observing it. "Strong affinity, unstable channeling. With practice, you'll become a capable caster."
Lyra beamed and looked toward Celeste—who gave the smallest of nods.
Elsewhere…
Auren Drakaris stood near the center of the room, fire dancing in elegant arcs around his fingertips as he manipulated it into a glyph mid-air. His mana was bold, confident, loud—much like the boy himself.
"Excellent control," Seraphine said. "You're clearly familiar with both energy and form."
"I've had a little practice," Auren replied with a boyish grin.
Beside him, Kael Vireon summoned a perfect mana sphere in utter silence—his magic shadow-touched, dense and smooth like a hidden blade.
"Consistent, efficient," Seraphine nodded.
Valric Drakaris—stoic and composed—formed a dual-layered water sigil with steady hands, his mana crystalline in nature. It shimmered like calm tides.
"High-level precision," the instructor said.
Then there was Rhydan Valehart.
He stared at the glowing crystal in his palm as if it were about to insult him.
Nothing happened.
"…Tch," he grunted, shaking his hand. "This magic crap ain't my thing."
Seraphine didn't flinch. "No evident mana flow. Proceed to the Combat Major evaluation wing. Your physical aptitude will be tested instead."
Rhydan cracked his knuckles, relieved. "Finally. I'll hit something instead of playing with lights."
Kael smirked. "Try not to hit the instructors this time."
As more students completed their tests, the room began to thin.
Celeste remained still, hands folded behind her back. She had passed—but only barely by design. The lie gnawed at her, but the truth was heavier.
Lyra nudged her. "You okay?"
"I'm fine."
Instructor Seraphine stood tall once more.
"Those accepted into the Magical Major will report here every second morning. The rest will begin Combat Major training in the south wing. Know this—neither path is lesser. Magic and strength must coexist. History has shown us what happens when they do not."
Auren leaned over to Kael as they exited.
"Looks like you're stuck with me again," he said with a wink.
"Tragic," Kael muttered. "Remind me to cast silence next time we spar."
As they passed by Celeste, Auren barely glanced at her—only enough to notice her weak mana flicker.
He scoffed under his breath.
Barely any presence. Again. Boring.
Celeste caught the sound but didn't react.
She had no intention of drawing attention—not today, not ever.
But the constellation seal beneath her illusion—Pisces—glimmered faintly, as if sensing something more beneath the surface.
Magic and strength.
She had both.
She just didn't want to use either.
Not unless she had no choice.