"Lilith Silford."
She hated the weight in the air when her name was called. Even with the professors saying nothing, she could feel the slight shift in posture from students nearby. The title clung to her like ivy.
Still, she walked forward calmly, chin lifted with grace, but not arrogance. She stopped before the orb, resting her right palm lightly and elegantly on the cool surface. She let her mana flow—carefully controlled, subtle, designed to blend in. But still, one cannot blend in when they control all four elements.
The moment her mana touched the crystal, the entire orb lit up in a breathtaking cascade of color.
First came yellow, branching through the sphere like cracks in stone—Earth.
Then, a surge of deep orange flared across the crystal—Fire, wild and fierce.
Moments later, vivid green tendrils spiraled upward from the core—Air, calm and rhythmic.
Finally, cool blue ripples surged from within, moving like waves under glass—Water.
The sphere trembled faintly on its pedestal. The room had gone utterly silent. Professors leaned forward. Quills stopped moving mid-air. Even the other students who had tried not to stare were now transfixed.
"Impossible..." one professor breathed.
Another stood from her chair, squinting as if her eyes deceived her. "She's... attuned to all four?"
Another leaned toward the nearest instructor. "That's not just rare. That's impossible."
And then came the pulse.
"Mana reserves—" a third began, then hesitated as the orb flashed again, briefly pulsing with dazzling rainbow colored light at the core. "Unquantifiable..."
Lilith withdrew her hands quickly, her expression calm and composed despite the intensity of what just happened. She bowed politely and turned to walk back to her group.
Tamsin blinked. "Well. Shit."
Raffin looked both impressed and quietly amused. "I think the orb just had a crisis of identity."
Tamsin's jaw had dropped. "Did... did the crystal just short-circuit?"
Raffin said nothing, though he looked at Lilith with a new depth of curiosity.
Elias, arms crossed, glanced toward the professors and muttered under his breath, "Low profile, huh?"
Lilith sighed. "I did my best. It's not my fault the orb tattled."
In the wake of Lilith's evaluation, the room buzzed with murmurs like bees circling a flame.
"Did you see that crystal?"
"All four elements? That's insane…"
"Impossible. She must've cheated somehow."
"Wait, what was her name again?"
The professors gathered behind their table, their voices hushed but their expressions far from calm. One, a balding man with deep frown lines, leaned toward a spectacled colleague.
"We should consult the Headmaster. No student has ever displayed four elements. Not even prodigies."
"But her mana signature was stable," the spectacled woman whispered. "And you saw how balanced the colors were. There was no chaos in it."
The balding professor frowned. "Still... the infusion was too smooth. Most first-timers struggle to connect with the crystal. She made it look effortless."
Lilith stood still, eyes trained on the ground, trying to ignore the weight of stares settling over her like falling ash. She caught the briefest glance from Elias—calm, unreadable—but his posture was alert, as if bracing for a storm.
This reminded her of her status, about her being the heir of House Silford. She raised her head, rolled her shoulders back and stood on her spot without a hint of anxiety. Her mask was perfect.
The rest of the evaluations continued, but the hum in the air lingered. Students stepped forward, placing their palms on the crystal. Some smiled proudly as their singular affinity shimmered inside the orb. Others sighed with disappointment when faint light flickered with barely a pulse. Eventually, the final name was called and silence returned to the room.
An assistant in academy red stepped forward and cleared her throat. "All examinees, follow me."
They were led down a hallway lined with high arched windows, the stone walls etched with golden patterns of elemental runes. A pair of heavy oak doors opened into a large training field enclosed by high walls.
Two figures stood at the center of the arena-like grounds.
The first was a woman with long, wild auburn hair that shimmered like wildfire beneath the sun. Her eyes were a burning amber, and her crimson robes billowed in the warm breeze.
"The one with the fire hair," Elias murmured softly beside Lilith. "She looks like a phoenix."
"Professor Sera Halcorth," Tamsin whispered nearby. "She teaches Tactical Magic and Field Application."
Beside her stood a tall man in a dark uniform with silver trim, a longsword strapped across his back. His posture was straight, and the air around him had the stillness of a drawn blade—calm, quiet, but deadly if disturbed.
"Dorian Vael. The swordmaster," Raffin muttered under his breath, the casual edge in his tone gone. "He's the reason half the noble brats drop out after the first year."
Even Tamsin, usually bright-eyed and curious, swallowed hard. "Father warned me about him," she whispered.
Professor Halcorth stepped forward, her voice carrying easily across the training field.
"Welcome to the final part of your entrance evaluation—the practical exam. This is not a tournament. You are not here to win or lose. You are here to show us what you can do under pressure, what you've learned, and how well you control your power."
She raised a finger, and flames flickered along her hand before vanishing into sparks. "You will not be scored solely on how strong you are. Control, precision, awareness, and adaptability—these are what we care about. If you try to show off, you will fail."
A few students shifted nervously, Tamsin among them. She glanced sideways at Lilith, who offered her a calming nod.
Then Dorian Vael stepped forward, his voice calm but unmistakably firm. "If you're here to swing a blade, you'll be coming with me. If you're a spellcaster, you'll remain with Professor Halcorth. Instructors will pair you with opponents suited to your ability."
His eyes swept across the group, cool and unwavering. "Those of you who hold titles or names above everything and rely on them—leave them at the gates. Here, you are not nobles. You are nothing more than mare applicants. Earn your place."
He gave a single nod. "Spellcasters—stay. Swordsmen—follow."
Elias gave Lilith a subtle glance, his expression unreadable, before turning toward the swordsmen. Raffin clapped his shoulder once in a show of camaraderie, then followed suit. Both young men walked with quiet confidence, though Raffin's hand briefly brushed the hilt of his sword as if to ground himself.
"Good luck," Tamsin whispered as they parted.
"Don't get kicked out," Raffin replied over his shoulder with a grin.
Tamsin stayed beside Lilith, her fingers twitching nervously. The line was thinner now—just the magic-focused students remaining. Lilith shifted her stance slightly, suppressing the hum of mana that still pulsed under her skin. She would mimic casting. Whisper nothing. Channel just enough.
Just enough to pass.
The real test was just beginning.