The Light Beyond The Rift

As she stepped into the great hall, a sudden, booming thrum assaulted her senses. The sound reverberated deep within her ears, sharp enough to cause physical pain, while an oppressive sensation of being observed crept into her mind. 

It was as if the very walls of the hall were probing her thoughts, searching for answers she couldn't comprehend. The immense pressure forced her to shut her eyes tightly and cover her ears, desperate to block out the overwhelming assault. 

Just as abruptly as it had begun, the sensation ceased, leaving her gasping for breath. Aileen opened her eyes, her vision blurred, to see Angeline leaning close, her face etched with concern. 

"What's wrong, Ail?" her voice was edged with worry. 

"I... I don't know," Aileen replied, her voice unsteady as she pushed past the growing ache in her head. Taking a breath, she gathered herself and glanced around, finally registering her surroundings. 

The Scryer's Hall was breathtaking. The dark marble floor gleamed under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers, their deep blue light casting shifting patterns across the vast space. Veins of silver wove through the polished stone, glinting like frozen rivers. Towering columns lined the perimeter, their surfaces etched with ancient runes that pulsed with a quiet, unreadable presence. 

The sheer scale of the hall made Aileen feel small—like a fleeting shadow in a place built to outlast time itself. Aileen was so consumed by the room's magnificence that she failed to notice the figure seated at the far end. 

He sat upon an emerald velvet chair, yet despite the richness of his surroundings, it was his presence that commanded the space, eclipsing even the grandeur of the hall itself. Instantly, she recognized him. 

The tales she had heard, the accounts she had read—all spoke of this man with awe and reverence: Lorran, member of the Guild's esteemed Council of Five, Head Scryer and one of the most formidable water mages the world had seen in over five centuries. 

His mastery over magic was unparalleled, earning him the legendary moniker 'Cobalt.' A name spoken in equal parts fear and admiration, a title that only the strongest of water mages could claim. 

He exuded power, his sharp, discerning eyes scanning the room with an intensity that could pierce stone. Despite his years, there was something timeless about him. 

His sharp jawline, dusted with faint stubble, softened the otherwise unblemished pallor of his complexion, adding a rugged edge to his refined features. Long, silver hair cascaded like molten moonlight over midnight-blue robes, their surface shimmering with intricate silver runes that seemed to shift subtly with his every movement. 

He was the embodiment of authority and wisdom. 

Aileen's heart hammered in her chest as his gaze landed on her. The weight of his attention was unbearable, like standing against a rushing torrent. 

She instinctively looked away, unable to hold his gaze for more than a fleeting moment. Her breathing quickened, and her hands trembled as she tried to steady herself. 

Then, Lorran stood. His movement, slow and deliberate, carried an elegance that demanded silence. 

The room seemed to hold its breath as his imposing figure rose from the chair, his eyes still fixed on her. Aileen felt her stomach drop. 

Lorran's voice resonated through the hall, steady and commanding. 

"I extend my deepest congratulations to each of you for successfully passing the magical knowledge exam." His piercing gaze swept across the room, lingering on the anxious faces of the candidates. 

"As you are well aware, this achievement grants you the privilege of taking the Guild's second exam." 

The weight of his words settled over them, the air thick with unspoken expectation. 

With a deft movement, He raised his hand, summoning an orb of water that glowed with a cobalt light, hovering above his outstretched palm. "However," he continued, his voice dropping with ominous weight, "this exam is far more brutal than its predecessor." 

He stepped forward, the orb drifting ahead of him as he approached the group. With a subtle flick of his fingers, the orb shimmered and shifted, transforming into a playful fish that darted gracefully through the air. Its movements were fluid and captivating, weaving between the candidates and drawing soft laughter from a few. 

The fish circled Angeline, its shimmering form mesmerizing—until it abruptly morphed into a razor-sharp icicle. The deadly point hovered mere inches from her neck, freezing the room into a tense silence. 

Angeline's breath hitched, her wide eyes locked on the glinting shard of ice. 

A second later, it dissolved, droplets cascading to the marble floor, leaving a lingering chill in its wake—a stark reminder of not only magic's beauty but its lethality. 

"Magicians," Lorran said, his voice calm yet charged with command, "must be born with two qualifying features." 

"The first of course, the ability to wield one of the four elemental magics, as you can see, I wield the element of water, a magician is born with this affinity, none have ever obtained it at later age." Lorran studied the students, their expressions etched with anxiety and fear. 

"The second requirement is the innate ability to form a magical shield, known as an Aegis, to defend yourself. This shield is triggered subconsciously whenever you are struck by magic. However, its strength varies greatly from person to person," Lorran explained, pacing methodically as he spoke. "Some magicians possess immense offensive potential but are vulnerable due to a weak Aegis, leaving them easily defeated by even the simplest spell." 

He paused, letting his words settle before continuing. "Once an Aegis takes a certain amount of damage, the magician is temporarily unable to use magic and becomes completely vulnerable to magical attacks. It is crucial to understand," he emphasized, his gaze sweeping the candidates, "that this shield offers no protection against physical attacks. A sword strike, an arrow—those will harm you just as they would anyone else." 

Lorran turned sharply, his expression intense. "Anyone can be born with an Aegis. However, not all who possess one have an affinity for magic. Those born without an elemental alignment often become supporters—individuals who pledge their loyalty to a mage or an organisation." 

He stopped pacing and turned to face the group, his voice steady. "This test," he said, "is designed to determine whether or not you possess an Aegis. It will decide whether you remain here or are sent home." 

With a sharp gesture, he motioned toward a set of opulent, silver-veined doors. "Follow me. All will become clear soon." 

The students trailed behind him, their apprehension mounting as they passed through the doors. On the other side lay what appeared to be a testing area. The floor was rough, deliberately designed to provide better grip underfoot, ensuring stability during high-intensity tests. 

At the far end stood a massive, standing pillow-like structure, its imposing size drawing their attention. A single white dot marked the floor, clearly indicating where they were expected to stand. Alongside it, neat lines marked each meter up to twelve, their precision adding a sense of order to the intimidating space. 

Lorran gestured for the students to form a line. His expression was calm but unyielding, a stark contrast to the nervous energy rippling through the group. Once they were assembled, he addressed them with a clear, authoritative tone. 

"Step forward one at a time and stand on the white dot. I will cast a low-level water spell in your direction. The spell is designed to test your Aegis. If you possess one, it will activate automatically, and the distance you are sent back will indicate its strength. If you do not possess an Aegis, the spell will send you back much farther. Prepare yourselves accordingly." 

The room grew tense as his words sank in. Len, standing beside Aileen and Angeline, leaned in and whispered, his voice tinged with disbelief. "He's insane. Who tests people by knocking them flat with magic?" 

Aileen's stomach churned at Len's words, glancing nervously at Angeline, who was biting her lip, her eyes darting between Lorran and the ominous pillow-like structure. Both girls felt the same creeping unease—there was no way to know how this would end. 

The first student to shove his way past the others was none other than Damien, the boy who had upset the trio earlier. "Let's get this over with. I've got more important things to do." he declared arrogantly, his tone dripping with impatience. 

As he stepped onto the white dot, standing tall with an air of superiority, Lorran's sharp gaze flicked toward him. "Brace yourself," He instructed calmly, raising his hand with deliberate precision. 

As his hand ascended, a thin stream of water materialized from the air, swirling rapidly as it gathered into a perfectly formed sphere. The shimmering orb floated above his palm, an uncanny replica of the one he had conjured earlier in the hall. 

Damien braced himself as Lorran flicked his finger, sending the water sphere hurtling toward him with astonishing speed. It struck Damien square in the chest, the force of the impact driving him backward eight meters, his face contorted in evident pain. 

Lorran's voice broke through the stunned silence. "I forgot to mention," he said with a faint smirk, "while the Aegis will protect you, you'll still feel some discomfort." He paused, studying Damien as he struggled to regain his footing. "Congratulations—you've passed the test with a score of eight, an average score." 

"Eight?! I demand a redo—I can do better than a measly eight!" Damien snapped, his arrogance practically dripping from every word. 

Lorran's gaze turned icy, his tone cutting. "The results are final. Demand anything of me again, and I will personally inform your father and see to your expulsion, young Rothwell." 

Damien's face flushed red, but he quickly resigned himself to the end of the line, where his attendants bore the brunt of his fury. From what Aileen could hear, they were receiving a scolding that was equal parts frustration and wounded pride. 

She couldn't stop the smile creeping onto her face. Watching him throw a tantrum like a spoiled child was far more satisfying than it should have been. 

The test continued, with many students failing as they were hurled back twelve meters into the padded structure. Some were too overwhelmed by pain to react, while others wept openly as they were escorted out of the hall by Lorran, who bid them a final, impersonal goodbye. 

Finally, it was Len's turn. Angeline and a few other students couldn't suppress their laughter as he awkwardly shuffled to the white dot, bracing himself for the attack. 

To everyone's astonishment, the water sphere struck Len, yet he was barely sent back two meters—breaking the previous record of six for the shortest distance. A stunned silence filled the hall before Aileen let out an involuntary whoop of excitement, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment immediately after. Len, grinning from ear to ear, returned to the line with a casual shrug, while Angeline gave him a wry smile, her eyes twinkling with pride. 

"A score of two—an achievement seen only once in a hundred thousand candidates," Lorran declared, his voice filled with pride. "Congratulations, young man." 

Angeline stepped forward next, her confidence evident in her stride as she approached the white dot. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself as she glanced back at Len and Aileen, who offered her encouraging smiles. 

Lorran raised his hand once more, the now-familiar sphere of water forming effortlessly in the air. "Brace yourself," he instructed, his voice calm yet commanding. 

With a flick of his wrist, the sphere hurtled toward Angeline, striking her square in the chest. She stumbled backward, her boots skidding slightly against the floor before she came to a stop. 

"Four meters," Lorran announced, a note of approval in his tone. "A well above-average score. Congratulations, Miss." 

The other students murmured in surprise and admiration as Angeline returned to the line, her cheeks flushed with a mix of relief and pride. Len gave her an enthusiastic thumb-up, while Aileen reached out to squeeze her hand briefly. 

Lorran's gaze shifted to Aileen, his eyes narrowing slightly as if assessing her more deeply than the others. "Miss Lobhdain," he called, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "You're next." 

Aileen swallowed hard, the weight of anticipation and anxiety pressing down on her. She stepped forward, each step echoing in the hall as she approached the white dot. Her heart thundered in her chest, but she forced herself to focus, determined to steel her mind and body. 

As Lorran began to cast his spell, the same oppressive thrum Aileen had felt upon entering the Scryer's Hall surged through her again, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut and clasp her hands over her ears. Lorran hesitated for a moment, his sharp gaze fixed on her but ultimately continued. The water sphere struck her squarely in the chest, sending her tumbling backward three meters. 

"Congratulations, Miss Lobhdain," Lorran announced with a faint smile. "An exemplary three meters." 

The tests continued relentlessly, each student stepping forward to face Lorran's unyielding assessment. One by one, the results were revealed—some celebrated their success, while others left the hall defeated, their dreams of joining the Guild, dashed. 

By the end of the examination, only thirty-six out of the original one hundred students remained, their faces lit with relief and joy. 

The successful candidates erupted in cheers, their voices echoing off the grand marble walls of the hall, laughter and tears flowed freely as they turned to embrace one another, the weight of the test lifted at last. Aileen stood motionless for a moment, her mind catching up with the reality that she had passed. Her heart swelled with pride and exhilaration, and she spun to face Len and Angeline, her face breaking into a radiant grin. 

Len laughed, pulling both Aileen and Angeline into a tight group hug. "I told you we'd get through this," he said, though his voice wavered as if he still couldn't quite believe it to be reality. 

Angeline chuckled, her usual sharpness softened by the moment. 

As Lorran led the students back to the main hall, he approached a towering, ornate bookshelf. The dark wood gleamed under the hall's ethereal lighting, its shelves were lined with leather-bound tomes. Without hesitation, Lorran began distributing the books, their blank spines hinting at untold possibilities rather than withholding secrets. 

"Passing this test," Lorran began, his voice steady and authoritative, "not only grants you the privilege of studying here and the possibility of learning magic but also imposes upon you a solemn duty. Each of you is now responsible for enriching our great library—ensuring that future generations can learn from your triumphs and failures alike." 

As he handed out the final tome, his stern expression softened, pride subtly flickering in his sharp gaze. He scanned the room, meeting the eyes of each new apprentice, as if silently bestowing his approval. His unspoken message was clear: they were now part of something far greater than themselves. 

Clutching her tome tightly, Aileen felt a surge of emotion. She knew this book would become her story—a testament to her growth, her contributions and her adventures. Just as her mother's exploits had inspired her, she dreamed that her own legacy might one day guide others. 

Lorran's voice cut through the stillness, pulling all eyes back to him. "Welcome, apprentices, to the esteemed Mages Guild of Elahra," he announced. "This institution was founded one thousand and five hundred years ago by King Illyas, with a dual purpose: to advance the boundaries of magical knowledge and to fortify Elahra's military and economic position in the world." 

He paused, allowing the weight of the guild's legacy to settle upon them. 

"This guild stands as a beacon of opportunity. Every year, we open our gates to all citizens of age, regardless of background. There is no cost to apply, the king's endowment ensures that any young adult with the potential to wield magic has the chance to prove themselves. Yet, while all are welcome to try, only a select few pass. The path ahead is not for the faint of heart." 

Lorran began pacing, his long robes trailing behind him, his piercing gaze sweeping over the room. "The Guild of Mages is divided into six sections, some devoted to a specific domain of magic. The elemental disciplines—Fire, Water, Air, and Earth—lie at the heart of our craft. Each element is essential to maintaining the balance of our world and advancing its prosperity." 

"Beyond the elemental disciplines, we have the Supporters—individuals who may lack a magical affinity but possess an Aegis. These individuals pledge their loyalty to a mage or organisations, becoming indispensable partners in missions, research, and other inner workings of the Guild. 

"Those willing to pair themselves to a mage or support, undergo a magical test that evaluates character and compatibility, ensuring the strongest possible bond." 

"The results of this pairings are final but still require consent, which is why many pairs grow into trusted colleagues or, in some cases, romantic partners." 

"However, not all are matched immediately. Some wait years for their support or mage, either because their destined partner has not yet come of age or may have been born to another kingdom. In some instances, a match may never be made at all. It's not uncommon for pair less magicians and supporters to form temporary groups until their destined matches are found and some join organisations such as the Inquisitors and Archivists." 

"And finally, we have the Librarium. More than just a library, it is a sanctuary of accumulated knowledge—the very soul of our Guild. Within its halls rest ancient tomes, scrolls, and grimoires, each contributed by generations of mages. It is a place where past and future intertwine, brimming with secrets waiting to be uncovered by those bold enough to seek them." 

His voice grew more solemn as he addressed the group. "Here, at the Mages' Guild of Elahra, you stand on the threshold of destiny. Whether you rise as mages or find your purpose as elsewhere, each of you has a role to play in the legacy of the guild and our empire." 

A moment of silence followed, broken only by the faint crackle of magical light above. Then Lorran spoke again, his tone carrying a sharp edge. "As apprentices of the Guild, your studies will be fully funded by the generosity of our king. This royal patronage comes with the obligation that you will serve the crown as vassals without land. You will dedicate yourselves to this service until you have proven worthy of greater freedoms or purpose." 

He fixed the room with an unyielding stare. "Let there be no misunderstanding. This is not merely an academic pursuit, it is a binding commitment to the Guild and to the kingdom of Elahra. Should any of you waver in this duty, the consequences will be severe. Acts of treason—abandoning your oath—may result in exile or even execution." 

His words hung heavy in the air, the finality of his decree unmistakable. "This is the path you have chosen. It is one of unparalleled honour but also immense responsibility. Consider your actions carefully, for you represent not only yourselves but the Guild and the crown." 

With that, Lorran stepped back, allowing the weight of his words to settle fully. In the silence that followed, the apprentices stood as if frozen, acutely aware they were no longer children. They had crossed the threshold into a world where their choices mattered—and carried consequences. 

Noticing the restlessness among the newly appointed apprentices, he raised a hand, commanding silence with a single motion. "You may now return to your quarters and await my summons," he declared, his voice carrying an air of finality. "In due time, I will send for you to divine your magical affinity." 

The apprentices began to filter out of the hall, their footsteps echoing in the grand chamber. A palpable tension lingered in the air, clinging to Aileen like a second skin. She had heard whispers about Lorran's infamous delays in summoning apprentices for the divination, sometimes making them wait days. The thought of endless anticipation gnawed at her, stirring an uneasy restlessness in the pit of her stomach. 

Just as she resigned herself to joining the others, Lorran's voice cut through the low murmur of departing students, stopping her in her tracks. 

"Except you, Miss Lobhdain," he announced, his tone sharp and deliberate. 

A ripple of whispers spread through the remaining apprentices as heads turned toward her. 

"I will carry out your divination now."