Dormant Potential

In front of Roderick stood a magnificent carriage, its gilded splendour gleaming in the sunlight. On the body the carriage was the symbol of the Valerian Empire. A majestic eagle in mid-soar, its wings outstretched as if touching the heavens. As Roderick's gaze fixated on this emblem, a genuine smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He had passed the first stage of the process, was found worthy, and now bore the mark of the gifted within him. However, his newfound gift slumbered and lay dormant waiting to be awakened. The shadow of uncertainty still loomed; because should this gift fail to awaken within 24 hours, then it will remain dormant in eternal slumber, fading into obscurity. But that was a problem for later.

Roderick remained lost in his thoughts, the weight of anticipation heavy upon him, when a sharp, impatient voice sliced through the air like a blade. "Gods, for crying out loud, how long does it take to pick up a few items?" Startled, Roderick's gaze snapped towards the source of the voice, where he found the imposing figure of the ceremony's supervisor. The man leaned casually against the gleaming carriage, his figure, a juxtaposition of stern authority and rugged charm.

Upon closer inspection, Roderick couldn't help but notice the man's striking appearance. His brown hair tinted with hints of grey, was combed backward, while his well-groomed beard accentuated the strong lines of his face. Behind transparent glasses, his eyes sparkled with intelligence, hinting at a vast reservoir of knowledge, giving him an air of scholarly refinement. But what truly caught Roderick's attention were the bulging muscles that strained against the confines of his dark blue coat, revealing a physical prowess that belied his scholarly demeanour.

This enigmatic supervisor, who had earlier introduced himself as Professor Corbin Flynn, stood at the chariot's side, his gaze locked in the direction the new initiates had disappeared. Earlier, he had instructed them to retrieve their personal belongings and reconvene at the awakening centre before embarking on their journey. Roderick, being a person with minimal possessions, had foregone the trip back to collect his belongings. But for others, the passage of time had been extended as they hastened to recover their scant possessions. Now, well over an hour had slipped away, and Professor Flynn's patience was wearing thin, visible through the faint furrow of his brow and the subtle tapping of a finger on his coat. The air around him seemed to ripple with a sense of urgency as he awaited the return of those under his watchful eye.

Corbin sat there, irritation simmering beneath his composed exterior, his patience thoroughly tested by this seemingly endless wait. Idleness grated against his nerves, and he loathed the feeling of precious moments slipping away in what he considered to be a waste of time. Under his breath, he muttered words of frustration, cursing the official duties that had brought him to this point. His discontent swelled, and he found himself fuming at the hand that had put him in this scenario in the first place. "Damn that old man," he seethed internally, "when I get back, I'll give him a piece of my mind!"

As he silently raged against the situation, an unexpected sensation washed over him. It was the distinct awareness of a gaze fixated upon him. Slowly, he turned his head in the direction of that piercing scrutiny, his eyes locking onto Roderick's for a second. Roderick, perhaps sensing Corbin's annoyance, swiftly averted his eyes, refocusing his attention on the emblem of the Valerian Empire.

Corbin's curiosity about Roderick deepened as he continued to observe the young man. A bead of sweat traced a path down the side of Roderick's cheek, a testament to the nervous energy coursing through him. Roderick's eyes, though initially fixed on the emblem of the Valerian Empire, occasionally strayed toward Corbin, darting furtive glances in his direction.

Noticing this dance of uncertainty, a long and almost exasperated sigh involuntarily escaped Corbin's lips. He leaned forward, his voice carrying an air of gruff authority as he addressed the young man. "Hey, kid," he began, his tone a mixture of irritation and curiosity, "you seem to have a lot of questions. Come over here. I'll answer them for you."

Roderick regarded Corbin with anticipation, a subtle nod affirming his interest. With a wry, yet earnest, smile gracing his features, he strode toward Corbin. As he drew near, he voiced the questions that had been gnawing at his thoughts. "Well, Professor," he began with a touch of humility, "I couldn't help but wonder about those lights that shone when I laid my hands on the crystal ball."

Corbin met Roderick's inquiry with a measured gaze, his eyebrows arching slightly as he mulled over the young man's curiosity. With a touch of understanding, he replied, "It's not a particularly grand secret, but you'll delve into the details at the academy. However, I suppose there's no harm in giving you a brief explanation."

Corbin assumed the role of the scholar, his words measured and enlightening as he embarked on the task of unraveling the mysteries of the gifts. "Every gift," he began with the air of a seasoned teacher, "can be neatly categorized into one of three distinct classes."

Roderick leaned in, his attention rapt as he absorbed this newfound knowledge. "The first," Corbin continued, "are the Enhancers. These individuals possess gifts that allow them to fortify and empower their physical bodies. They are the embodiment of strength and resilience." As Corbin spoke of Enhancers, Roderick's gaze naturally drifted toward the supervisor's physique. The tone and definition of Corbin's muscles, previously hidden beneath his coat, were now more evident. It was a silent confirmation of Corbin's own membership within this formidable class.

The second class," Corbin went on, "are the Emitters. Their gifts grant them the ability to influence the world around them without the need for physical contact. They wield their powers like unseen forces, shaping their surroundings to their will."

"And finally," Corbin concluded, "we have the Unique class. These are the individuals whose gifts defy categorization and follow no specific pattern. A unique gift can still belong to either of the first two classes, but its defining characteristic is its distinctiveness, something that sets it apart from the norm."

"As for your question," Corbin continued, his voice steady and informative, "those colors that emanated from the crystal ball each bear significance, representing a specific class. Red signifies an Enhancer, Blue designates an Emitter, and White signifies a Unique gift. These three colors, often referred to as the primary colors, serve as the foundation of this classification. However, as in all aspects of life, there exist variations."

"These variations," Corbin explained, "are bestowed upon those whose gifts do not neatly align with the primary colors. Just as every person's life, journey, and personality are unique, so too are their gifts. These variants are categorized based on their proximity to the primary colors. For instance, the color Orange represents a Variant Enhancer, Purple indicates a Variant Emitter, and Grey is reserved for those bearing a Unique Variant gift."

Roderick's eyes widened in comprehension, his thoughts aligning seamlessly with Corbin's detailed explanation. However, a moment later, his brows knitted in a thoughtful furrow as he began to contemplate the implications of his own unique classification.

"The orb turned white when I placed my hand on it," he mused aloud, "meaning I'm in the Unique class. So I do possess a unique gift. But that isn't necessarily a good thing, is it? It could mean a slower development, as I might have to master my gift on my own."

Thinking about it for a moment, Roderick eventually shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, his expression one of pragmatic acceptance. "Oh well," he remarked with a faint smile, "as long as I can find my way out of this place, I suppose I'll be just fine."

Approaching footsteps interrupted Roderick's contemplation, and he swiveled around to witness the other initiates returning, their most treasured belongings in tow. "Finally," Corbin muttered under his breath, his relief evident in his quiet words. With a brisk motion, he rose to his feet and gestured for them to promptly board the waiting carriage.

"Quick, hurry it up," Corbin urged in a hurried tone, his impatience thinly veiled. "We're already behind schedule."

The initiates scrambled into the carriage, their movements quick and efficient, mirroring the urgency in Corbin's voice. As they settled, Corbin ascended the horse with practiced ease, his gaze sweeping over the group.

"Brace yourselves," he cautioned, his tone carrying a hint of wry anticipation, "it's going to be a bumpy ride." With that warning, the journey to the Valeria Academy began.