Entrance test

Aelar sat with his family, the aroma of freshly baked bread filling the air. Amay raised his cup, "To Aelar! May the Essence be with you today." His mother added, "We know you'll make us proud, son."

But it was his younger sister, Lila, with her fiery spirit and unwavering confidence, declared, "By evening, we'll have a novice mage in our midst! I've no doubt."

Aelar managed a smile, bolstered by his family's faith in him.

The academy stood tall, a testament of knowledge and power. As Aelar approached, he marveled at its grandeur—vast halls with arches stretching high into the sky. Grand rooms whispered tales of legendary mages while snaking corridors hinted at secrets lost in time.

Rumors had always spoken of the ancient ruins beneath the academy, these mysteries only deepening their allure.

Aelar's heart raced as he entered the Grand Testing Hall. It was almost filled to the brim, buzzing with anxiety and excitement. Everywhere he looked, potential students showcased their unique backgrounds.

A girl with turquoise hair animatedly discussed a spell, while a boy with robes that shimmered like the night sky practiced hand gestures.

Among the crowd were young warriors, their presence marked by the glint of weapons. Swords, bows, and axes hung by their sides, a stark reminder that the academy drew aspirants from all walks of life.

A thunderous CLAP from the entrance echoed through the hall, silencing every whisper. A middle-aged man with a commanding presence stood there. His name? Vidar Ulfur, a Grand Master mage.

"I always find joy in seeing fresh faces, eager and passionate," Vidar's voice boomed, resonating with power. He made his way to the main stage, every step exuding confidence. "For those who don't know me, I am Vidar Ulfur. I just returned to the academy and thought, why not add a bit of flair to an otherwise mundane day?"

Whispers erupted. "A Grand Master!" someone exclaimed. "I've only heard tales," murmured another.

Waving his left hand, Vidar introduced two individuals: Leora, a graceful woman with raven-black hair, and Harman, a tall man with a stern gaze. "Masters Leora and Harman will oversee your tests today, assisted by a cadre of adepts. Prepare yourselves."

"There are three trials that await you. First, a test of theory and understanding of magic. Second, a practical demonstration of your aptitude with Energies and Essence. And the final test, which is more a formality for most but vital nonetheless, will assess your Power Realm."

He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. "Masters Leora and Harman will elaborate further."

But as Vidar was about to retreat, a subtle shift in the atmosphere caught his attention. A sensation, like the faintest whisper against his skin, pulled at his senses.

Grand Master Vidar, with all his vast experience, knew to trust these feelings. Scanning the hall, he noted several students adorned with artifacts and weapons imbued with varying degrees of Essence. Yet, none of those should cause such a disturbance to someone of his stature.

His gaze eventually settled on a young man shrouded in a subtle, almost imperceptible cloak of energy. "You there," he boomed, pointing directly at Aelar, "Ash-brown hair. Who are you? Where do you hail from?"

Aelar, caught off guard, struggled to find words. The weight of the Grand Master's gaze bore into him.

Master Leora, sensing Aelar's discomfort, intervened with a calming tone, "Do not be alarmed, young one. Speak your name."

Gulping down his anxiety, Aelar replied, "I'm Aelar Wyrmsbane, sir. My family has an herb stall in the market. I... I also work at the Nalanda Library."

Vidar continued his questions, "Have you encountered anything unusual recently? Perhaps some weird spells or objects?"

Aelar hesitated briefly before replying, "Not that I recall, sir. But the library... It's filled with ancient tomes and artifacts. Perhaps something there..."

Vidar's expression softened, a glimmer of realization appearing in his eyes. "Osho," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "Of course. The remnants I sense are that of an old acquaintance I haven't crossed paths with in ages."

The tension in the room lessened. With a dismissive wave, Vidar concluded, "Very well. Let us proceed. I wish you all the best in the trials ahead."

Master Leora and Master Harman, radiating authority and grace, took center stage. "Alright," Leora began, her voice echoing across the vast hall, "we shall begin with the first test – theory."

Harman signaled the adepts forward. There were fifteen of them, each distinct in appearance and demeanor.

Caelia was tall, her silver hair and blue robes catching the light as she moved. Nearby, Brynden's imposing build was accented by his long beard; his eyes never stopped scanning the room.

Ema stood in stark contrast. Her hair was tightly pulled back, and her piercing green eyes left no doubt that she meant business. Dax with tattoos covering his arms seemed easygoing, always ready for a chat.

Then there was Nyla. Her short, red hair seemed to match her no-nonsense attitude. She directed students with short, clear commands, taking charge of the situation... amongst others.

The adepts swiftly divided the students into fifteen approximately equal groups. Some students, like those with Dax, found themselves at ease, laughing and joking. Under Nyla's watchful gaze, others stood in rigid attention, afraid to even whisper.

"Let's begin," Harman declared. One by one, the adepts started questioning their groups.

Ema, asked her group, "Explain the relationship between Essence and the innate energies within oneself."

Caelia, with a gentle tone, posed her question, "How does one harness the Essence for spell-casting, and what are the limits?"

Brynden, stroking his beard thoughtfully, inquired, "Describe the foundational elements of Essence and their corresponding energies."

Students answered to the best of their abilities. Some confidently elaborated on the interplay between Essence, energies, and the Power Foundations of Magic. Others stuttered, their nervousness evident.

As the test progressed, it became clear that not everyone would pass. Those who faltered or provided incorrect answers were promptly, and sometimes unceremoniously, escorted out by their overseeing adept.

Whispers filled the hall as the number began to dwindle. By the time the last question was asked, only about four dozen potential students remained. The true challenge of joining the academy was becoming starkly evident.