The week had passed in a blur, each day blending into the next as Adrien settled into his new routine at the facility. The meals in the mess hall were one of the few constants, a time when all the students gathered together, filling the large space with chatter and the clinking of utensils. Today, however, the usual atmosphere was different. The air was thick with anticipation, an undercurrent of excitement rippling through the crowd of about forty students as they gathered for their midday meal.
Adrien sat with Arthur at their usual spot, the long wooden table in the corner of the room that offered a view of the entire hall. He picked at his food absentmindedly, lost in thought. The week had been anything but easy—his shoulder still ached from his sparring match with Oscar, and despite the hours he spent studying the book on anti-magick, he felt no closer to understanding his strange power.
Before he could dwell on it further, a hush fell over the hall, and Adrien looked up to see a figure in white robes standing at the front of the room. The figure was tall, imposing, and unmistakably similar to the woman who had interrogated him days ago. The robed figure raised a hand, and the room fell silent, all eyes fixed on the newcomer.
"Students," the figure began, voice carrying easily across the hall, "Today marks the beginning of a new challenge. You have been training, learning, and preparing for this moment. The time has come for your first combat test. You will be split into two teams and sent into the woods that surround this facility. Your task is simple: engage in combat, demonstrate your skills, and prove your worth. The team that succeeds will advance to the next rank within the school. The team that fails… will remain here to repeat the year."
A murmur of excitement and nerves swept through the crowd. Adrien felt his heart skip a beat, the words sinking in. He leaned over to Arthur, who was listening with a serious expression.
"Arthur, why are they doing this now? Isn't it too soon?" Adrien whispered, trying to keep his voice low enough that only his friend could hear.
Arthur glanced at him, his usual carefree demeanor tinged with an edge of seriousness. "It's not too soon, Adrien. The school year started months before you got here. This is more like a graduation test for those who've been here longer. We get this every year to separate the students who are ready to move on from those who need more time."
Adrien frowned, his thoughts racing. 'But I haven't made much progress with figuring out how to control anti-magick… The book hasn't been much help either.' He clenched his fist under the table, frustration bubbling up inside him. "I don't know if I'm ready for something like this."
Arthur chuckled, nudging him with an elbow. "Relax, Adrien. It's team-based, remember? We've got each other's backs. One team moves on, and the other stays behind for more training. It's not just about individual strength, but how well we can work together."
Adrien nodded slowly, trying to push down his anxiety. His mind drifted back to all the things he had learned about magic over the past week. The six continents of their world, each with its own unique magical traditions. The Millian Continent, where they currently resided, was known for its human and beastmen nations, and the complex interplay of mana that flowed through everything. He had learned about the basic principles of spellcasting, the different schools of magic, and the way mana could be shaped and molded to create a variety of effects. Yet, none of it seemed to apply to him.
"I'm not like the others," Adrien thought, his eyes drifting to the figure in white robes. "My power… it's different. It doesn't fit into any of the categories they've taught us about."
He turned back to Arthur, voice dropping to a near whisper. "What if I mess up? What if I can't do it?"
Arthur gave him a reassuring smile. "You'll be fine, Adrien. Just stick with me, and we'll get through this together. And hey, if things get tough, just remember it's not the end of the world if we have to stay back another year. We'll have more time to figure things out."
Adrien tried to smile back, but his nerves were still gnawing at him. The idea of staying back another year wasn't as comforting as Arthur seemed to think. He didn't want to stay here any longer than he had to, especially with the growing uncertainty about what his power meant and how the school—or worse, the Church—might react if they found out.
The figure in white robes continued to speak, outlining the details of the upcoming test. The students were to be divided into two teams and would enter the forest from opposite sides. The goal was simple: eliminate the opposing team or force them to surrender. The forest itself was filled with natural obstacles and creatures that would pose additional challenges, and the use of any abilities was permitted.
*****
The students were given several hours to prepare for the combat test. Adrien found himself alone in his small dorm room, the dim light from a single lamp casting a warm but inadequate glow across the space. He paced back and forth, the small room feeling even smaller as his anxiety grew.
His thoughts raced as he tried to figure out how he was going to survive the upcoming test. The weight of the challenge seemed almost too much for him to bear. Every time he tried to focus on a strategy or even just a plan of action, his mind seemed to betray him, jumping from one fear to another. His heart pounded in his chest, a relentless drumbeat that echoed the turmoil inside him.
He glanced at the few belongings he had in the room: a couple of books, his worn-out clothes, and a few personal items from his previous life. None of it offered much comfort now. The weight of the magic book he had bought felt heavier than ever, as if its pages contained the knowledge he needed but was just out of reach.
Pacing, he glanced at the clock, noting that the time to meet back in the mess hall was approaching. His steps grew more frantic, his breathing shallow as he fought to control his mounting panic. Every time he thought he had a handle on his fear, it would slip away, replaced by a new wave of anxiety.
The room felt stifling, the air thick with tension. He stopped in his tracks and sank onto his bed, feeling the cool, rough fabric of the sheets beneath him. His shoulders slumped, and he buried his face in his hands, the tears that had been threatening to fall finally breaking free. His sobs were quiet but persistent, a mix of frustration and fear that seemed impossible to control.
"I can't do this," he whispered through his tears. "I'm just a kid… How am I supposed to fight in the woods? I'm not ready for this… I just want to go home."
His thoughts drifted back to his parents, the memories of his small cottage and the comfort of his family. He could almost hear his mother's soothing voice, feel the warmth of their home. The stark contrast between his old life and the harsh reality of the facility was overwhelming. He had never been expected to do much at home; his life had been simple, predictable, and safe. Now, faced with this intense and frightening challenge, he felt utterly out of his depth.
Curling up into a ball on the bed, he let the tears flow freely. The emotional weight of his situation seemed unbearable. The knowledge that he was expected to perform and succeed, despite being just eight years old, felt like an impossible burden. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear, self-doubt, and a deep longing to return to the safety and familiarity of his past life.
"I miss them so much," he thought, his heart aching with the pain of separation. "I wish I could just be a kid again, not worrying about fighting or tests or anything."
The soft, rhythmic sound of his breathing, mingled with his quiet sobs, was the only noise in the room. He could hear the distant hum of activity in the facility, a reminder that the world was moving on outside his small, isolated space. The reality of his situation felt even more acute as he lay there, vulnerable and alone.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly as he remained curled up on the bed, the minutes ticking by slowly. The clock on the wall marked the passage of time, but it did little to alleviate his growing sense of dread. Every tick felt like a countdown to the inevitable, a reminder of the approaching test that he wasn't ready for.
Eventually, the sound of footsteps in the hallway and the distant clang of the mess hall bell broke through his despair. Adrien took a shaky breath, slowly sitting up and wiping the tears from his face. He felt a mixture of exhaustion and resignation, knowing that he had to pull himself together and face the reality of his situation.
As he gathered his belongings and prepared to leave for the mess hall, he tried to steady his nerves. The tears had subsided, but the weight of his fears still lingered. He took one last look around his room, a place that had briefly offered him solace, and steeled himself for the challenge ahead.
****
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