The grand hall stretched endlessly, its vaulted ceiling carved with constellations that glimmered faintly in the ambient light. Rows of Resonance Spheres stood on ornate pedestals, each one humming with latent energy. The air buzzed with anticipation, thick enough that every shift, breath, and murmur seemed amplified.
Rynar's boots echoed faintly as he stepped into the hall beside Lyra. His green eyes roamed the space, taking in the sheer scale of the room and its design. The polished floors reflected the faint glow of the spheres, creating an ethereal atmosphere that felt far removed from the rustic simplicity of Whisperwood.
Participants clustered in small groups, their voices hushed. Some whispered with excitement, others nervously adjusted their clothing or flexed their fingers as if preparing for battle. The knights stood along the edges of the room, their presence silent but commanding.
"Is it always this... grand?" Lyra whispered, her brown eyes wide as they darted across the intricate carvings on the walls.
"I don't know," Rynar muttered, his voice low. He tightened his grip on the strap of his pack. "Feels like it's trying to make us feel small."
Lyra gave a faint smile. "It's working."
---
The sound of deliberate footsteps broke the quiet murmur of the room. A wiry man with sharp features and piercing eyes strode to the center of the hall. His uniform, trimmed with shimmering silver sigils, marked him as an evaluator of high rank. Behind him, several assistants carried clipboards and mana-measuring devices, their movements efficient and precise.
"Attention," the man called, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. The room fell silent immediately. "You are here for one reason: to determine your worth within the Dominion. The Resonance Test will evaluate your connection to mana—its strength, control, and refinement."
He gestured toward the spheres, each glowing faintly with a dormant light. "These Resonance Spheres do not measure raw power. Instead, they interpret your mana signature. For those with affinities, the spheres will reflect your element. For those without... well, we will see."
Rynar felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He glanced at Lyra, who was watching the instructor intently, her jaw set with determination.
"This is not a game," the instructor continued, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room. "Your performance here will determine your path. Step forward when your name is called. Place both hands on the sphere, and focus. Do not waste our time."
---
The first name was called—a boy with dark hair and an air of quiet confidence. He stepped forward, his steps measured. As he approached the sphere, the room seemed to hold its breath.
Placing his hands on the smooth surface, the boy closed his eyes. The sphere glowed faintly at first, its light a soft blue that began to ripple outward. The runes etched into its surface shimmered, their patterns undulating like waves in a calm sea. A faint mist began to rise, curling around his arms and dissipating into the air.
"Water affinity," the instructor announced. "Moderate capacity. Good control."
The boy stepped back, his face calm but his shoulders straighter than before. A murmur rippled through the crowd as the next name was called.
"Lyra," the assistant called, her voice crisp.
Lyra inhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around the strap of her pack. Rynar gave her a small nod, and she stepped forward, her movements steady despite the faint tremble in her hands.
She reached the sphere and hesitated for a moment, her brown eyes flicking to the instructor, who gave a curt nod. Placing her palms flat against the surface, she closed her eyes, her brows furrowing in concentration.
The sphere glowed amber at first, its light pulsating softly. Then, as Lyra exhaled slowly, the glow intensified, shifting to a vibrant orange. Flames flickered within the sphere, licking at its edges but never escaping. The runes glowed brighter, their patterns forming intricate spirals that seemed to dance in rhythm with the fire.
"Fire affinity," the instructor said, his tone neutral but approving. "Strong capacity. Developing control."
Lyra released the sphere and stepped back, her chest rising and falling as though she had run a great distance. The murmurs grew louder this time, a mixture of admiration and envy. She caught Rynar's eye and gave him a faint smile before returning to his side.
"You did great," Rynar whispered.
"Thanks," she murmured, her cheeks still flushed.
"Rynar," the assistant called.
The room seemed to grow quieter. Rynar's heart thudded loudly in his chest as he stepped forward, his boots clicking against the polished floor. He felt every eye in the room on him, their weight heavier than he had expected.
The sphere loomed before him, its surface shimmering faintly. It felt both inviting and alien, a thing designed for a world he didn't belong to. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hands on the sphere, the cool surface sending a shiver up his arms.
He focused, trying to summon... something. Anything.
For a moment, the sphere flickered weakly, its light pale and uneven. The runes glimmered faintly before dimming altogether, their patterns fading into obscurity. The hall grew deathly silent as the instructors exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable.
"No mana detected," the lead instructor said finally, his tone flat. "Proceed to aura testing."
Rynar stepped back, his hands falling to his sides. He avoided looking at anyone as he returned to Lyra's side. Her expression was unreadable, but the soft brush of her hand against his arm was a silent reassurance.
---
As the evaluations continued, Rynar stood in silence, his thoughts a storm of frustration and unease. Around him, participants demonstrated dazzling displays of power—lightning crackling through the air, vines growing and curling around the sphere, even shadows bending and twisting unnaturally.
Each display felt like a reminder of how out of place he was.
"Don't let it get to you," Lyra said quietly, her voice firm but kind.
"I'm fine," Rynar muttered, though the knot in his chest tightened.
---
When the last participant stepped away from the sphere, the instructor returned to the center of the hall. "Those who demonstrated mana or affinity will proceed to control exercises. The rest of you will be evaluated on aura and other capabilities."
He dismissed them with a sharp gesture, and the group began to disperse. Rynar followed Lyra toward the courtyard, his mind racing.
The day was far from over, and the next challenge was waiting.
---
The courtyard hummed with a nervous energy as the participants who had failed the mana test gathered in clusters. The instructors stood like sentinels, their gazes sharp and assessing. Spread across the grounds were the weighted dummies, reinforced targets, and obstacle courses that made up the physical portion of the evaluations.
Rynar followed the group, his broad shoulders hunched slightly. He felt every step echo with the reminder of his earlier failure. Lyra gave him a faint smile before she was called away with the affinity group, leaving him alone among strangers. Around him, the other participants whispered, their nerves palpable.
An instructor—a stocky man with a jagged scar tracing his jawline—stepped forward, his boots crunching against the gravel. "Listen up," he barked. "This is the second phase of evaluations. You'll be tested on physical strength, endurance, and reflexes. If you've got aura, it'll show here. If not..." He smirked faintly. "Well, we'll see what you're made of."
His gaze swept over the group, lingering briefly on Rynar. "First station: strength. Step forward when I call your name."
The weighted dummy stood at the center of the courtyard, a metallic column etched with glowing runes. It was designed to measure force and precision, the runes flaring brighter with stronger and more controlled strikes.
The first participant, a wiry boy with a determined look, approached. He squared his stance, fists clenched. With a sharp breath, he delivered a punch to the dummy. The impact sent the dummy sliding back a few inches, the runes glowing faintly for a moment before dimming.
"Moderate strength," the instructor noted, his tone neutral. "No aura detected."
A stocky girl stepped up next, rolling her shoulders. Her punch landed with a solid thud, sending the dummy skidding back almost a foot. The runes flared brighter this time, their patterns flickering steadily.
"Good power," the instructor said. "Keep working on control."
One by one, the participants took their turns. The results varied—some strikes were strong but lacked refinement, while others barely moved the dummy at all. A lanky boy managed a respectable strike, the runes glowing steadily for a few seconds before fading.
"Traces of aura," the instructor murmured, scribbling on his clipboard.
---
As the test continued, a larger boy with thick arms and a confident grin stepped forward. His punch landed with a satisfying crack, sending the dummy sliding nearly two feet. The runes flared brightly, drawing murmurs of approval from the other instructors.
"Natural strength," the lead instructor noted. "Promising."
Another participant, a petite girl with sharp eyes, surprised the crowd by delivering a quick, precise strike. The dummy barely moved, but the runes flared brightly, indicating controlled aura output.
"Excellent control," an assistant remarked. "Small frame, but efficient."
"Rynar," the instructor called, his voice cutting through the murmurs.
The courtyard fell silent as Rynar stepped forward. His boots crunched softly against the gravel, each step deliberate. He could feel the weight of their stares—the instructors, the participants, all watching and waiting.
The dummy loomed before him, its surface gleaming faintly in the sunlight. Rynar squared his stance, his fists tightening. The earlier embarrassment of the Resonance Sphere burned in his mind, but he pushed it aside.
"Whenever you're ready," the instructor said, his tone unreadable.
Rynar exhaled slowly, his muscles coiling like springs. He knew he couldn't unleash his full strength—not here. Instead, he focused on a controlled strike, just enough to make a point.
With a sharp inhale, he threw his punch.
The impact wasn't a crack or a thud—it was an explosion. The dummy flew backward, skidding across the gravel before smashing into a wooden post. The post cracked loudly, splinters flying into the air as the dummy fell to the ground with a metallic clang. The runes on its surface flared blindingly bright before fading into darkness.
The courtyard was silent, the stunned faces of the participants and instructors frozen in disbelief. The stocky instructor lowered his clipboard, his mouth opening slightly before snapping shut. He stepped forward, inspecting the dummy, his boots crunching over the splintered wood.
"What..." He ran a hand over the fractured runes. "That shouldn't be possible."
Another instructor joined him, their murmured conversation too low for Rynar to hear. The scarred man finally turned back, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto Rynar.
"Hit it again," he said, his voice sharp. "Control it this time."
Rynar hesitated, glancing at the mangled dummy. "You'll need a new one."
The instructor blinked, then barked a sharp order to an assistant. Within moments, a fresh dummy was wheeled into place. This one was reinforced with thicker plating, its runes glowing faintly as it settled.
"Again," the instructor said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Rynar exhaled slowly, shaking out his arms. This time, he struck with even less power, his movements restrained to the point of discomfort.
The dummy slid back a foot, the runes glowing steadily but without the earlier explosive reaction. The instructors exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable.
---
"Enough," the scarred instructor said, stepping forward. His gaze bore into Rynar, sharp and calculating. "You're done here."
Rynar frowned. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," the instructor replied, his voice low. "But you're not staying with this group. We'll need to run some... specialized tests."
The murmurs among the participants grew louder as Rynar was pulled aside. He glanced at Lyra, who was watching from the edge of the courtyard, her face a mixture of concern and curiosity. She gave him a small, encouraging nod and then slight smile before turning back to her group.
The scarred instructor motioned for another evaluator to join him, their hushed conversation punctuated by glances in Rynar's direction. He stood silently, his fists clenched at his sides.
---
By the time the tests concluded, the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the courtyard. The participants were dismissed in groups, their conversations buzzing with excitement or disappointment. Rynar remained where he was, waiting as the instructors finished their deliberations.