A bright sapphire-blue flare blood through the glass, spreading outward in steady arcs. Lightning-shaped glyphs shimred within—a controlled web of frost patterns and sharp edges. The color was unmistakable.
"Water," soone murmured.
Of course.
That was the signature affinity of the Lorian royal bloodline.
The instructors confird it aloud, almost out of ceremony more than necessity.
"Primary Affinity: Water. Secondary: Wind."
A quiet ripple of impressed nods followed.
Adrian stepped back without a word, his expression unchanged.
Then, it was Isolde’s turn.
Valeria’s eyes sharpened.
The girl stepped forward—no hesitation, no grandeur. Just a simple motion, full of precision.
She touched the sphere.
And imdiately, it lit.
Not with color.
But with radiance.
The radiance that poured from the sphere was imdiate and unmistakable.
Not a flash, not a flicker—but a steady illumination that built and blood like dawn unfolding within crystal. Soft gold edged with pale ivory, the glow didn’t pulse like the others had. It simply... existed. Calm. Absolute. Not blinding, but commanding.
The instructors exchanged glances, one of them visibly raising his eyebrows. Another took a step closer, the slate in his hand glowing with diagnostic glyphs that responded to the resonance. A faint murmur passed between them—words too quiet to catch, but the tone was clear.
Recognition.
Validation.
One of them finally stepped forward, clearing his throat before speaking loud enough for the entire hall to hear.
"Primary Affinity: Light.
Secondary Affinity: Ice."
There was a pause. Then a burst of quiet awe rippled through the students.
Valeria’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Light.
Of course.
The rumors had said as much. That the Valoria bloodline, once known for its glacial arcana and crystal-dominant spells, had recently birthed a rare inheritor. That the old ice had finally lted into sothing purer. Sharper.
Light... and Ice. Just like the old legends of the Northern Oaths.
Isolde, however, tilted her head slightly, brows lifting—not in surprise, but faint amusent.
"Your secondary is Ice?" the instructor asked, glancing at her. "That’s... quite strong, you could be an Ice mage even."
The instructor then nodded, tapping twice on the slate before breathing out slowly, as if confirming sothing to himself.
"The device is functioning normally, then," he muttered under his breath.
Isolde’s lavender gaze flicked sideways. "What do you an?"
He hesitated—only for a second—before answering.
"There were two... anomalous readings earlier today. Cases where the secondary affinity manifested late—much later than usual. It raised the concern that the device might be miscalibrated."
Isolde’s expression didn’t shift, but the air around her grew a touch colder.
"Strange cases?" she repeated.
"Yes." The instructor glanced down at the notes, voice low but steady. "One of them, in particular, displayed a secondary affinity that hadn’t been recorded before at this academy."
That drew a quiet hush from the gathered students. Even Adrian’s eyes narrowed slightly, though his posture remained relaxed.
Isolde’s voice was soft. "And what was it?"
The instructor hesitated again, then glanced toward the crowd—toward the nas already logged, the faces already assessed.
"...Light."
That single word dropped into the silence like a pebble into deep water.
Another Light affinity?
Isolde’s voice ca again, this ti sharper. "Really?"
"Yes," the examiner confird. "But it wasn’t like yours. Your resonance is... pure. Radiant. If I were to say, it was like sun in its nature. The other one..." He paused, adjusting the light on his slate. "It was dimr. Not weak, exactly, but—restrained. Refined. Its hue wasn’t golden. It leaned more toward... silver."
A different kind of light.
The instructor tapped once more on his slate, then gave a small sigh—more thoughtful than troubled.
"It happens occasionally," he said, voice steady but laced with curiosity. "The manifestation of rare elents."
He looked up briefly, scanning the watching students before turning back to Isolde. "In this case, I believe it was simply a rare manifestation. Unrefined, perhaps. Still developing."
"...Unrefined Light," Isolde echoed, her tone light—barely tinged with anything. But her eyes? Her lavender eyes glead with sothing else entirely. Interest, yes—but colder. Calculating. Like a queen morizing a flaw in a rival’s armor.
The instructor gave a faint nod. "Yes. And—ah, now that I think on it... that student’s primary affinity was Ice."
That drew Adrian’s attention more sharply than before. His gaze flicked from the examiner to Isolde and back again, his brow furrowing ever so slightly.
Isolde tilted her head. "Ice and Light," she murmured. "An uncommon pair."
She let the mont breathe, then asked—softly, but with unmistakable weight behind the question:
"What was her na?"
The instructor hesitated.
For just a heartbeat.
And then another.
His fingers hovered above the slate.
"Her na..." he began, voice lower now, cautious. "You’ll learn it anyway."
A beat.
"Elowyn Caerlin."
The na floated out into the quiet like a pin dropped in silk.
Isolde’s lashes didn’t flutter. Her lips didn’t move.
But her eyes—
They flashed.
Just for an instant.
Like light catching the edge of a blade.
"Elowyn Caerlin, huh?" she repeated, as if tasting the na. Her voice was a murmur now, the kind you weren’t ant to hear, except that everyone did. "I will rember that na."
The final ripple of light faded from the sphere.
With practiced ease, Isolde withdrew her hand, her expression smooth, unshaken. Her gown caught the soft lamplight as she turned, descending the platform steps with Adrian following at a asured distance beside her.
The murmurs had quieted now—stifled by the air of finality that followed royalty. The crowd parted almost instinctively as they passed, a corridor of reverent distance forming around them.
Adrian leaned in slightly as they walked, his voice low but edged with that familiar undercurrent of dry amusent. "Ice and Light," he said. "And another girl with the sa strange pairing—what are the odds?"
His tone didn’t carry suspicion. Not yet. But curiosity. An edge of sothing... considering.
"Strange coincidence," he mused. "Almost funny."
Isolde glanced at him, and the smile she gave was flawless. Soft. Amused. Perfectly shaped.
But behind that smile—beneath that porcelain grace—her thoughts churned.
’Coincidence?’
Hardly.
She did not believe in those.
Her steps remained fluid, her presence calm, but her mind had already begun its work. Elowyn Caerlin. The na was now etched beneath her skin, carved like a note into steel.
No known ties to the central Houses, as she did not rember the details of the na.
How interesting, she thought.
"Still," Adrian continued, breaking into her silence again, "I’m a little surprised you’re not more curious."
"Oh, but I am," Isolde replied sweetly, her voice feather-light. "It’s just... a quiet sort of curiosity."
He looked at her sidelong.
She smiled again.
*****
Valeria let out a quiet breath.
The sphere’s light had dimd. The murmurs had shifted, dispersing now that the royals had concluded their tests. Isolde’s golden glow still lingered in mory, but the hall itself had moved on—one mont devoured by the next.
Valeria turned toward the corridor, ready to leave.
And then she stopped.
Not from a sound.
But from a feeling.
She glanced over her shoulder—and t a pair of eyes the exact shade of glacial blue. They watched her with quiet calm, unblinking.
Standing just beyond the lower steps, half-shadowed beneath one of the pillar arches, was a girl with windswept orange hair and a dark uniform marked with the Lorian sigil. Not one of the royal retinue. But not quite background either.
No... not her.
Valeria knew that face.
Knew that na.
"...Jesse Burns."
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