The days leading up to the academy representatives' arrival seemed to stretch endlessly. The air in Ashen Grove felt different—charged with something Axton couldn't name. Conversations in the village had shifted from the mundane to the extraordinary. Talk of the academy filled every space, with adults and children alike whispering in corners, speculating about who would be chosen.
Axton couldn't avoid the question that gnawed at him: Why would they come here? Ashen Grove wasn't a place that produced the great warriors or mages people spoke of in the stories. It was a simple village, tucked away at the edge of the world, where most people never left. What could the academy possibly see in a village like theirs?
His steps slowed as he walked down the familiar dirt path leading to the schoolhouse. Elias had been strangely quiet lately, his usual banter replaced with a quiet vigilance. He could feel his friend's unease hanging in the air. Every now and then, Elias would glance over his shoulder, scanning the horizon as if expecting something—or someone.
As the village grew quieter with the approach of dusk, Axton couldn't shake the sensation of being on the edge of something immense. His mind raced with questions. What did it mean to be "chosen"? And more importantly, why did he feel like he was the one being pulled toward something he didn't understand?
When he arrived at the schoolhouse, the teacher, Ms. Dorya, stood at the front of the class, lecturing about the ancient history of the Elemental Realms. But her voice faded into the background as Axton's thoughts drifted. He couldn't focus. He wasn't sure if it was the academy's looming arrival or the strange feeling in his chest, but today everything seemed off.
"You seem distracted, Backwoods," Ms. Dorya's voice cut through the haze of his thoughts.
Axton blinked, looking up to meet her stern gaze. "Sorry, Ms. Dorya," he muttered, forcing himself to sit up straighter. He felt the eyes of his classmates on him, some of them curious, others quietly judgmental. He didn't belong here. He knew that. He'd always known it.
The class continued, but Axton's mind wandered back to the whispers about the academy. He overheard students discussing the coming trial and how the representatives would test more than just power—they'd look for something hidden.
As the bell rang and the students began to file out, Elias caught up with Axton again. His eyes darted around, checking to see if anyone was nearby before he spoke.
"They'll be here soon," Elias said in a hushed tone. "I can feel it in the air. It's like everything's waiting."
Axton nodded, his stomach tight. "Do you think they'll choose someone from here?"
Elias's expression darkened. "They've chosen before, but it's rare. No one from this village has been picked in a long time. But this time, I don't know… something's different."
As they walked down the path to Axton's house, the village felt even quieter than usual. A few villagers exchanged nervous glances, but no one spoke openly. It was as though the whole town was holding its breath, waiting for whatever was coming.
That night, Axton lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. The night was silent except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so uneasy, as though every fiber of his being was vibrating with anticipation.
What am I supposed to do?
He wasn't like the others—he had no visible power, no mana coursing through him like most of the village's children. So why did he feel like something was pulling him toward the academy? It was like an unseen force, beckoning him, telling him that his life was about to change in ways he couldn't even imagine.
Sleep was elusive that night. The promise of something looming over the horizon weighed heavily on his chest, and no matter how hard he tried to push it away, he couldn't escape the sensation that his world was on the brink of being shattered.