magnitude

"Selene Vitalis. It says here that your affinities lie in Nature, Shadow, Poison as your main elements, and minor dual ice and fire. That's quite the colorful array," the examiner, an old woman, remarks from her seat on the balcony above. I meet her gaze with a neutral expression, preparing for the examination ahead.

"Okay, let's start," she continues, and I nod in acknowledgment, ready to demonstrate my abilities.

*

I stand there, my heart pounding in my chest, still trying to process what I just witnessed. Sixty years at Tavill Academy, and never have I seen anything quite like it. The pink-haired girl's departure leaves me reeling, grappling with the sheer magnitude of her display of elemental mastery.

The nature element, typically associated with gentle healing and the nurturing growth of herbs, took on a terrifying aspect in her hands. What began as delicate flowers quickly morphed into monstrous plants, bristling with razor-sharp leaves and thorns. With eerie ease, she manipulated their growth, commanding them to swell to immense proportions that filled the room with their ominous presence.

And then there was her command over poison, a dark and deadly force that seemed to flow from her with alarming potency. She conjured a thick, corrosive fog that seethed and writhed, devouring everything in its path with an insidious hunger. It was a stark reminder that nature, in all its beauty, could also wield a terrifying power when twisted to darker ends.

But perhaps most unsettling was the seamless fusion of her abilities, as she effortlessly combined her botanical creations with venomous toxins. The once-beautiful plants now dripped with poison, their petals glistening with a deadly allure. It was a chilling sight, the embodiment of nature's wrath unleashed in its most sinister form.

As I reflect on her display, I can't help but feel a sense of unease. I have never seen a nature element wielded with such aggression and ferocity. It's a stark departure from the norm, a reminder that even the gentlest of elements can harbor a darkness beneath its surface.

Never before have I witnessed such mastery over the shadow element from someone outside the direct lineage of Shadowcrest. The way she commanded the darkness was nothing short of breathtaking, weaving it into a suffocating blanket that sent shivers down my spine. But it was more than just darkness; it was a weapon, a tool of destruction. Explosive black orbs erupted from its depths, and shadowy spikes materialized with lethal precision, each movement of her shadow a dance of deadly intent.

And then there was her control over ice and fire, elements that seemed diametrically opposed yet bent to her will with terrifying ease. A hailstorm engulfed the room in freezing chaos, ice shards glinting in the pale light as they formed lethal weapons at her command. But it was the firestorm that truly unnerved me, its blistering heat radiating from her position with palpable intensity. In her hands, fire and ice merged into a deadly combination, a tempest of searing flames and icy shards that tore through the air with deadly accuracy.

But what truly left me reeling were her projectiles, flames encased in ice that defied logic and reason. The precision required to control such volatile elements was staggering, yet she wielded them with a finesse that bordered on the supernatural. Each projectile slammed into the walls with explosive force, leaving behind a trail of devastation that served as a testament to her unparalleled skill.

As I reflect on her display, I find myself grappling with a sense of awe and trepidation.

*

As I step into the room, the sterile whiteness envelops me, accentuated by the gleaming marble floors beneath my feet. My gaze is drawn upward to the balcony where Elder Archon stands, his presence commanding and stoic. Beside him stands my examiner, a man approximately in his 50s with striking blue eyes and raven hair, his handsome face marred by a scar that adds an air of mystery to his demeanor.

Elder Archon's words draw my attention back to the present, and I nod in acknowledgment as he introduces my examiner. The man's annoyance is palpable, but I push aside any apprehension and focus on the task at hand.

"Nathaniel Shadowcrest, let's begin," the examiner says, his voice cutting through the silence of the room. With a steady hand, I retrieve my spear, feeling the familiar weight of the weapon in my grip. The examiner's instructions are clear: I am to demonstrate my understanding, precision, and control with my chosen weapon.

*

Peering down at Nathaniel Shadowcrest, the spitting image of his father Ethan, I can't help but marvel at the uncanny resemblance between the two. It's as if Ethan's essence has been perfectly replicated in his son.

What's more ironic is Nathaniel's choice of weapon—a spear, just like his father and the current patriarch of the Shadowcrest lineage.

Internally, I scoff at the revelation that Ethan, the notorious promiscuous bastard, has left behind a progeny. I always warned him that his reckless lifestyle would catch up with him eventually. And now, here we are, with Ethan's offspring delivered by some servant years ago. I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all—although I expected there to be more than just one "mini him", honestly impressive there's just one offspring of his. It's almost comical, considering his reputation.

A pang of sorrow grips me as I reflect on the loss of my dear friend and cousin, Ethan. From what I've gathered in the reports, Nathaniel shares his father's penchant for mischief and talent. It seems troublemaking runs in the family.

Ethan vanished without a trace over 18 years ago, leaving behind a legacy of chaos and unpredictability. The revelation of Nathaniel's existence sheds light on Ethan's mysterious disappearance—apparently, he was busy sowing his wild oats, hence the emergence of his son. Knowing Ethan's penchant for trouble, I can't help but imagine him causing havoc even in the Afterlife, if such a thing exists.

As I am lost in my thoughts, a sudden burst of lightning jolts me back to the present moment. I observe in awe as bolts of electricity crackle and leap from Nathaniel's spear, enveloping his entire form in a shimmering aura. With astounding agility, he moves with the swiftness of lightning itself, almost too fast for the eye to follow. It's a sight to behold, witnessing him utilize the very essence of his element as a conduit for his movements.

With a decisive thrust of his spear, Nathaniel brings forth a torrent of lightning, unleashing a cascade of sparks that dance and flicker across the room in a deadly display of power. The intensity of the electrical storm is mesmerizing, illuminating the chamber with an otherworldly glow.

Considering his elemental affinity, Nathaniel's mastery over teleportation is truly remarkable. For a weapon user to achieve such proficiency in manipulating space is no small feat.

As anticipation builds within me, my focus shifts to the element I've been eagerly awaiting: Shadow. Suddenly, the entire room is shrouded in an oppressive darkness, sending a chill down my spine even though I'm from of the house of shadows. Nathaniel's control over this element is nothing short of unnerving. It could be because he's a direct descendant but Dalton Shadowcrest was here earlier and he wasn't very impressive.

With a commanding gesture, he withdraws the darkness, revealing a scene that defies reality. The inky blackness coalesces into a dense sphere within his palm, pulsating with an ominous energy. Sinister tendrils extend from its core, weaving and undulating through the air with an eerie grace. It's a manifestation of shadows unlike any I've witnessed before.

As Nathaniel deftly manipulates the shadowy mass, shaping it into grotesque forms and sizes, I find myself transfixed by his mastery. The very essence of shadow bends to his will, yielding to his commands with an unsettling fluidity. And when he enshrouds his spear in the darkness, I can't help but marvel at the sheer depth of his skill and understanding. Looking at this display it's why people are afraid of us, I get it now.

Suddenly, arcs of lightning crackle from Nathaniel's spear, but there's a sinister twist to their appearance—tinged with a foreboding shade of black. The amalgamation of blue and black hues lends an unsettling quality to the sparks, evoking memories of Ethan's dark ice, albeit with a more menacing edge.

As Nathaniel teleports around the room with astonishing speed, leaving behind a trail of destruction in his wake, I can't help but feel a sense of unease wash over me. The sheer intensity of his power is both awe-inspiring and terrifying, reminiscent of the raw potential his father wielded.

"Enough," I command, motioning for him to cease his demonstration. With a nonchalant shrug, Nathaniel exits the room, leaving Elder Archon and me to assess the aftermath.

Descending to the floor, we find ourselves amidst the wreckage, with electric currents still surging ominously through the devastated surroundings. Elder Archon's expression is grave as he observes the scene, recognizing the unprecedented level of destruction caused by Nathaniel's display.

"This level of destruction is remarkable, especially considering that he's likely just scratching the surface of his abilities," Elder Archon remarks solemnly. Retrieving a handkerchief from his robes, he attempts to contain a small piece of charged debris, only for it to detonate with alarming force.

"It's unstable as well," Elder Archon notes, his tone tinged with concern. "Inform the cleanup crew to exercise extreme caution when dealing with this aftermath."

As Elder Archon vanishes in a cloud of smoke, I'm left standing amidst the debris, grappling with the magnitude of what I've just witnessed.