Octavius had long fantasized about this moment, envisioning the Academy's grandeur, but the reality surpassed his wildest dreams. The grand entrance was flanked by imposing stone statues, and the sprawling courtyard was filled with students, professors, and guards.
Yet, instead of making a dignified entrance, Octavius found himself stuck in a long queue by the gate, awkwardly shifting his weight while scratching his backside.
To make matters worse, his finger instinctively wandered to his nose, a gesture he couldn't seem to shake. Of course, this wasn't his usual behavior – Void, the mischievous entity he'd reluctantly allowed to take control of his body, was responsible for these unrefined antics.
"Do you have no shame? We are in public," Octavius muttered, his face flushing with embarrassment as he forced Void to stop picking at his nose. He glanced around nervously, hoping no one had witnessed the mortifying display.
[Shame is so... human. I'll leave that to you, Ovavius. I'm just here to keep things interesting.]
"Well since you're in one, you better start acting like one"
Octavius scanned the vicinity as he continued, "I thought Alaric said only ten people would be selected. Look at this crowd— there must be over a hundred people here."
[He said ten would be selected, he didn't give an estimate on those who would be present.]
Octavius scanned the queue growing impatient. "Is there a way we can move through the line?" he asked, considering a more unorthodox approach.
[Have you no shame?] Void asked him, throwing Octavius' earlier words back at him.
Octavius simply rolled his eyes.
Octavius scanned the queue again, his eyes narrowing as he observed that no one had moved forward yet. He had mentally marked the first person in line, a woman with exceptionally long hair that cascaded down her back, past her knees. She remained stationary, and Octavius estimated they had been waiting for over two hours.
Things had indeed changed for Octavius. He couldn't remember his father's rule being this absurd.
Just as Octavius began contemplating ways to advance in the queue, the gate creaked open, capturing everyone's attention. A man emerged from the entrance, scanning the crowd intently as he stepped forward, his presence commanding the curiosity of those waiting.
A distinctive mark adorned his forehead, and his attire – adorned with the emblem of Stella, a symbol Octavius had often seen on his late father's clothing – clearly identified him as a mage. Given the similarities between the markings on the man's forehead and his father's, Octavius inferred that this individual was likely a member of the council.
Octavius was familiar with the symbols at heart. A straight line on someone's forehead indicated membership in the Architect group, whose skills lay in non-magical craftsmanship and innovation.
In contrast, a crescent moon shape typically denoted a Conjurer, adept at summoning and manipulating magical energies.
The Leviathans, an elite group of knights and warriors, harnessed magical energies through their enchanted swords. Their foreheads bore an inverted triangle.
Healers, gifted in the art of restoration and medicine, wore a stylized spiral symbol on their foreheads.
Mages are the ruling class, distinguished by their exceptional mastery of magical energies and their inherent leadership abilities. They bear a distinctive symbol – a stylized star or asterism – on their foreheads, situated alongside their individual essence symbol, denoting their remarkable magical prowess and authoritative status.
The council was composed solely of Mages, with a total of four members, according to the traditional structure. However, Octavius' father, a member of the Leviathan faction, had broken with convention. He acquired a status for himself when he founded the Academy, and it earned him a unique position – he became the fifth member of the council, and was granted a distinctive Mage status.
"Twenty per group," the man with the Architect symbol and Mage marking said, his voice breaking into Octavius' reverie.
"What did he say?" Octavius asked Void, having missed the announcement.
[Wasn't paying attention, ] Void simply responded while staring at someone's cleavage.
"Get out of my body," Octavius ordered in disdain and Void's essence immediately dissipated from his body.
[Oh, come on.] Void whined but Ocavius paid no mind to him. Instead he tried to listen to the man in front of them, and thankfully he repeated his earlier words.
[The first test will commence after you've all formed a group. Each group is limited to Twenty people. You have five minutes to assemble.]
As soon as the announcement was made, the queue dissolved into chaos. People eagerly approached one another, trying to recruit members for their groups. Some called out to friends or acquaintances, while others used their charisma to persuade strangers to join them. A few even resorted to boasting about their skills or magical abilities to entice potential group members.
Octavius, however, stood frozen, unsure of how to approach others. He attempted to join a few groups, but the leaders consistently chose individuals with more impressive physical builds or apparent magical prowess over him, especially when they saw no marking on his forehead. To them, that meant he was absolutely worthless.
As the minutes ticked by, groups began to solidify, and Octavius found himself excluded from all five.
The remaining individuals, including Octavius, were left stranded. There were only fourteen of them, insufficient to form a new group. They exchanged nervous glances, their anxiety growing as the start of the first test drew near.
"What should we do?" Octavius asked Void nervously, seeking guidance as the situation grew increasingly uncertain.
Just then, the Mage, who had been observing the commotion, began to stroll towards the cluster of individuals, including Octavius, who had failed to form a group of the required size.