Benjamin's days were filled with grueling sessions at the library, alternating between absorbing books and Kareya's relentless practical exercises. Though he was confident in his ability to ace the theoretical part of the Academy's exam, the practical portion remained a glaring issue. Kareya's frustration with his lack of connection to the natural laws mirrored his own, and though her resolve never wavered, progress was slow.
One morning, as Benjamin arrived at the library, he noticed a familiar weight on his shoulder. The Attush had followed him, its long tail curling lightly around his neck and its soft fur brushing against his cheek. It nestled comfortably in a fold of his poncho, as though it had always belonged there.
"You've picked up a shadow," Kareya remarked dryly as the creature leapt from Benjamin's shoulder and settled in a sunny corner of the room, curling into a ball.
Benjamin chuckled. "Seems like it."
The creature's presence was oddly comforting. As he practiced his breathing and focus exercises, it stayed close, observing quietly with its golden eyes. Benjamin couldn't help but notice that he felt calmer with the Attush around, its steady purring filling the room like a metronome.
---
One afternoon, during another session of frustrated attempts to stir his connection with Khial, Kareya paused, her sharp gaze settling on the Attush. "The healing," she murmured, more to herself than to Benjamin.
Benjamin looked up, wiping sweat from his brow. "What about it?"
"The aftereffects of my healing should've faded by now," she said, pacing the room. "It's normal for residual energy to linger for a day or two, but this—" She turned to him, her eyes narrowing. "This is different. And that Attush… it's been unusually attached to you since the night of the alley, hasn't it?"
Benjamin frowned. "You think the two are connected?"
Kareya didn't answer immediately. Instead, she gestured to the Attush, which was lazily watching from its spot in the corner. "Bring it here. Put it in front of you."
Though confused, Benjamin complied, lifting the surprisingly light creature and placing it on the floor in front of him. It stretched languidly before sitting upright, its golden eyes locking onto his with an almost unnerving intensity.
---
"Now," Kareya said, her tone more serious than he'd ever heard it, "focus on it. Imagine what it's feeling—its heartbeat, its breathing, its thoughts. Use your mind to bridge the gap between you."
Benjamin's knowledge, tucked away in his subconscious from the countless books he'd absorbed, stirred. This was training tied to the Law of Life—an attempt to harmonize with another living being, to sense and share its essence.
Closing his eyes, he tried to block out the room, focusing only on the rhythmic sound of the Attush's breathing. The steady rise and fall, the faint purring that seemed to sync with his own pulse.
At first, it was like reaching into the dark, searching for something intangible. But then, as he concentrated on the sensation of the Attush's presence, something shifted. He remembered the feeling of his own heartbeat that night in the alley—the frantic rhythm as he was beaten. He visualized the creature's calm, steady pulse and willed himself to match it.
---
The shift came suddenly, like a door opening. For a fleeting moment, Benjamin wasn't himself. His perspective twisted, his senses overwhelmed by strange new input—sharp contrasts of light and shadow, an acute awareness of the room's smells, the feeling of fur against the floor.
His eyes snapped open, his chest heaving. He looked at the Attush, and for a second, he swore it looked back at him with recognition, as though they'd shared a secret.
"You felt it, didn't you?" Kareya's voice cut through his thoughts, her tone triumphant.
Benjamin leaned back, a smirk spreading across his face as he met her gaze. "Got it."
The Attush let out a soft purr, curling its tail around its paws as if to say, About time.
--
Over the following days, Kareya refused to give up, despite mounting frustration. She brought an array of creatures to their sessions—everything from worm-like critters that writhed in jars to buzzing flies, glowing Dhubans, and even a few other Attushes. Each time, she guided Benjamin through the same exercises: breathing, focusing, and reaching out with his soul to connect.
Each time, Benjamin failed.
Kareya's sharp features grew tense as the days passed, her determination tinged with a flicker of doubt. This shouldn't have been happening. Even among those who couldn't attune to the natural laws like Sages, their souls still resonated with the world of Khial. That resonance, no matter how faint, allowed them to connect with living things to some degree.
But Benjamin's soul—aside from the brief flicker of connection with the first Attush—remained disturbingly silent.
---
Kareya's frustration wasn't unfounded, and Benjamin understood why she was worried. The Law of Life was crucial for Sages who worked with animals and plants, offering them a connection that allowed them to sense, understand, and sometimes even influence the world around them. Hayawas, with their beast-like features, were almost naturally attuned to this law, while the Udhuns— the elegant, elf-like beings—tended to resonate with the Law of Energy, excelling in manipulating raw force and light.
For Benjamin, however, everything hinged on finding some way to survive the Academy's entrance test, which was designed to push candidates to their limits. He had learned from Kareya that the test wasn't a standard written exam or a simple assessment of practical skills.
---
Candidates would be connected to one of Khial's countless dungeons, strange and dangerous places created by the chaotic interplay of natural laws. Each dungeon was unique, shaped by the affinities of the candidate who entered. Those attuned to the Law of Life might find themselves in lush jungles or eerie forests, where their ability to connect with animals and plants could provide them with food, shelter, and even allies.
Benjamin, however, would be at a severe disadvantage. If he could only connect with the Attush—or worse, with nothing at all—he would be effectively unarmed in a situation where others would wield the equivalent of weapons.
He couldn't shake the analogy: it was like walking into a warzone with a cat instead of a gun.
---
As Kareya paced the wooden training room one afternoon, Benjamin watched her carefully. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her sharp eyes distant as if she were replaying every failed attempt in her mind. Finally, she stopped and turned to face him.
"This is impossible," she said, her tone unusually blunt. "Your soul is the most... peculiar thing I've ever encountered. It reacts to nothing, and yet, that connection with the Attush—"
"—means there's something," Benjamin finished for her. "I get it. But if it's so faint, then maybe I just need to work with what I've got. I don't need to master the Law of Life. I just need enough to survive the test."
Kareya sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Do you even realize how dangerous that test is? Candidates are sent to dungeons that reflect their affinities. If you can't fully connect to anything, you won't even be able to access the basic tools most Sages-in-training rely on to survive. You'll be walking into a deathtrap blind."
Benjamin's jaw tightened. "I've walked into deathtraps before," he muttered.
Kareya frowned but didn't press him. Instead, she folded her arms and studied him for a long moment. "You're stubborn, I'll give you that. But this isn't about guts or determination. It's about resonance, and without it, the dungeon will swallow you whole."
Benjamin met her gaze evenly. "Then we focus on what worked before. The Attush."
"The Attush isn't enough," she snapped. "What can it possibly offer you in a dungeon? A distraction? A warm blanket? You'll need far more than that to survive."
Benjamin smirked faintly, though his voice was serious. "It's a start. And it's better than nothing."
---
Kareya stared at him, her frustration warring with something else—respect, maybe, or a begrudging admiration for his resolve. Finally, she exhaled deeply, her shoulders slumping slightly.
"Fine," she said. "We'll keep trying. But you'd better prepare yourself, Benjamin. If you can't find a way to resonate with more than a single creature, you'll be walking into that dungeon with nothing but sheer luck and stubbornness to keep you alive."
"I'll take those odds," Benjamin replied, his tone calm but resolute.
Kareya muttered something under her breath and turned away, already thinking of new ways to push him. Benjamin, meanwhile, clenched his fists, his mind racing. He didn't need to master the Law of Life, but he needed to survive—and if that meant walking into the unknown with nothing but an Attush by his side, then so be it.
--
The day of the entrance exam had arrived, and the air buzzed with anticipation. The inner core of Hukuma, home to the legendary Citadel, was a sight to behold. Spanning kilometers, the sprawling compound reflected centuries of craftsmanship and refinement. Its grand stone arches and towering spires gleamed in the sunlight, etched with symbols of the natural laws that governed Khial.
Within the Citadel lay endless mysteries: dormitories for students and servants, classrooms where the next generation of Sages honed their craft, tournament rings for testing strength and skill, and practice rooms brimming with arcane energy. Even the most experienced Sages didn't fully understand the secrets the Citadel held, its labyrinthine halls revealing new surprises every generation. Only the Chief Sage, Ra'us the Vagrant, might have known it all. His title reflected the journeys he had undertaken across all four continents before rising to his current station, his influence cemented by the favor of the four emperors.
---
Benjamin sat at his designated place in the massive courtyard where the first part of the test—the theoretical exam—was about to begin. The scale of the event was staggering. Thousands of hopefuls filled the courtyard, each seated at meticulously arranged desks. Around him, the tension was palpable.
He glanced at the candidates nearby. Some wore finely tailored uniforms adorned with the crests of noble households, their families' wealth and influence clear. Others were dressed more modestly, hailing from villages or smaller cities, their talents bringing them here despite their humble origins. The mix of individuals was as diverse as the lands of Khial itself, and no one looked unworthy.
There were no smug faces, no air of overconfidence. Every person here, noble or not, radiated a quiet intensity, their determination clear. These were individuals who had honed themselves through hardship and ambition, each a rough diamond with the potential to shine. Benjamin couldn't afford to underestimate anyone.
These aren't just background characters, he thought to himself, scanning the crowd. They're the real deal.
For a moment, the scale of what he was up against threatened to overwhelm him, but he pushed it aside. Benjamin had always thrived under pressure, and this was no different. He adjusted his posture, letting himself relax slightly as he prepared to tackle the test.
---
A faint smile crossed his lips as his thoughts drifted to the Attush. He'd named it Atty after its stubbornly regal demeanor, and it had become a strange but comforting presence in his life. Kareya had agreed to let Atty stay in the library during the exam, and Benjamin couldn't help but wonder what it was doing now. Probably stretched out in a patch of sunlight, lazily watching Kareya work.
"I wonder if Atty's doing good," he muttered to himself with a chuckle, the thought bringing an unexpected calm over him.
The sound of a bell echoed through the courtyard, drawing everyone's attention. A Sage stepped onto a raised platform at the front, their robes billowing slightly in the wind. They raised a hand for silence, and the murmurs among the candidates ceased instantly.
"It is time," the Sage announced, their voice carrying effortlessly over the crowd. "The first part of the entrance exam begins now. You will have two hours to complete the theoretical test. Demonstrate your knowledge, your understanding, and your discipline. Good luck."
Scrolls were handed out row by row, each one sealed with the mark of the Academy. Benjamin took his and unrolled it, scanning the questions quickly. They were as challenging as he'd expected, covering the history of the Great War, the principles of Sagecraft, and intricate questions about natural science.
He leaned forward, his mind sharpening as he began to write. This was his first real step into the world of Sages, and he wasn't going to let it slip away.