Highland's Palace

Located on the cliffside, a steep fall leading down to the waters far below, Highland's Palace stood in the basking sun, rays of light reflecting off of the crystalline roofs. The palace was the pinnacle of mankind's architecture, and the place of power in the human reich. It was created from opaque, white stone, the brightness from the dancing rays almost making it invisible. 

The Grand Palace, in which the most important persons of the human lands lived, looked down upon the rest of the palace-grounds, the building-scheme really emphasizing the arrogance it held. Inside, in one of the many corridors, ran a messenger. He passed by countless paintings with a multitude of depictions, through the glowing arches dressed with illuminating flowers and slithering ivies. 

Crossing a intersection of two corridors, the messenger almost knocked a servant to the ground as he hastily made his way around, almost running to the door not so far away. Down the corridor, a intricately carved wooden door waited, golden edges running around the outer silhouette, a glistening red gemstone buried in the wood right above the name of the inhabitant: "Archwitch Auris Sunborn". 

Not caring to knock, the messenger burst through, the door almost flying off the hinges from the force he swung it open with. Sitting behind a large desk, the Archwitch practically jumped from her luscious chair.

"What is the meaning of this!" She roared, redness climbing her cheeks as irritation made her eyes spew tongues of fire. 

"My sincerest apologies your majesty," the messenger stood in the middle of the room, hands on his knees, heaving sounds as he struggled for breath. "The spacewielder arrived alone on the testsite, and not by portal." 

Auris fell into a stupor, her reprimands silencing before even being voiced. — How could that be? How could Turve possibly disappear with that man's child? She slammed her hands on the desk, locking eyes with the winded man before her. "A report?" 

"According to the spacewielder himself, who returned to the testsite with damages so severe a Grand Magus in bloodweaving, Grand Magus Sanguinus, had to be portaled in from the Tower of Sundown in order to quell the bloodloss..." 

"How could that possibly have happened?" Auris cut in, fury lighting his eyes. — If that bastard dare to betray us, I swear I will find him and peel his skin off. She swore heavily to herself. The boy Turve was sent to fetch was the key to the plan, the key for the humans to rise above the other races and finally claim what was rightfully theirs. 

"When the spacewielder had been treated enough to speak, he vividly described how the spacetunnel had collapsed around them mid travel, a result of an outer interference. During the collapse, the travellers had been expelled from the void, whilst the wielder was left to try and stabilise the corridor, resulting in his injuries." 

Auris closed her eyes, pressing on the lids with her fingers. She felt an headache coming along. What the messenger described was true, if a portal collapsed during the travel, any non-denizen of the void would be immediately and violently ejected from within, leading to the arrival in a place probably out of reach. 

She let her eyelids go, slamming a fist on the table. Rounding it, she grabbed her witchcoat and hat and walked out of the room, leaving the scared shitless messenger behind on the expensive carpet. 

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Walking besides Turve, Azriel followed him and the other four down another long, winding staircase. They had been in the room at the top of the center pagoda for a while, talking about the test of Azriel and his education and future prospects of the Truthseekers. Turve's mood had risen during their talks, as if he was looking forwards to the immense catastrophe he was about to let crash down upon the human civilisation. 

Right now however, they were on their way towards the place at which Azriel was going to get tested: a special chamber designed solely for this purpose. According to Aurae, whom had informed Azriel beforehand, the test consisted of two parts, the first in which he had to meditate on the elements, letting one choose him. During the second part, which the Truthseekers had created on their own, the aptitude Azriel held for the element that would choose him was going to be tested. 

Descending through the bustling market, not sparing a nick of time towards the halting of all movement when they appeared, the group of six continued down the winding staircase, entering the underground.

Lodged into the mountain, a silver slab of metal appeared in the outer visage of an expanding light. Hung suspended in the air, bobbing up and down in a rhythm similar to its host, an orb of pure sunlight shed its aura over the encroaching shadows. Vohamanah led the group to a standstill in front of the metal door, extending a hand and forcibly pulling the slab up with an exertion of magic. 

Anticlimactically, the door only led to a rather small, cubic room encased by the same metal that the door was made of. Walking in, Vohamanah pointed to a pillow in the centre, motioning for Azriel to take a seat, which he obeyed in silence, curiosity enlightening his eyes as he watched all five others entering a hidden chamber, a doorway being revealed by Vohamanah yet again. 

After a little while, the angel's radiant voice echoed in the chamber, amplified by some unknown spell to pierce the thick walls. "Please enter a meditative state for the test to begin." 

Excited, Azriel scurried to comply, crossing his legs and closing his eyes, resting his hands on his knees, palms facing upwards. Erasing his state of mind, the boy imagined being trapped in a black room, as by the instructions taught to him by his mother a long time ago. His breathing steadied, heartbeat slowing down to a crawl, only beating the minimum amount. Soon, he stopped perceiving the surroundings: the sound of shifting clothes, air being pushed out through his mouth and the funky, metallic smell. Azriel's mind began to drift away, his figurative body stuck in a black room. 

"The boy's good." Xerkar leaned backwards in a chair, letting his feet rest on a extended piece of the wall before him. Unbeknownst to Azriel, the five could see him as clear as day, the wall being semipermeable in their favor. Vohamanah nodded in silent agreement, tapping the space before his face, eyebrows drawing together in concentration. 

"Releasing the four standard elements... fire initiated." 

In Azriel's drifting mind, a sudden boom resounded and a volatile ball of flames engulfed his senses. Searing pain spread through his mind. Beads of sweat rolled over the boy's temples, a face of agony replacing that of leisure.

"Normal reaction so far. The fire is marking him. Seems like it intends to subdue itself to the boy." Vohamanah spoke in reverence; never in his long life had he seen a child been marked this fast. 

Slowly, in front of the eyes of the five powerhouses, a golden, fiery rune wove itself into existence across Azriel's forehead. The circular rune split in the middle, tendrils of furious flames extending from the curved edge. Pictured in the middle was a valiant crown of raging inferno, neatly cut in half by the line splitting its crutch.