Wildheart chronicles

Chapter 2: The Test

Bjorn arrived at the church gates and was greeted by a female guard, who appeared to be a mage. She had an air of authority about her as she pointed him toward the testing hall.

Entering the hall, Bjorn was taken aback by the sheer number of people waiting to test for their magic source. They were mostly his age, though some were in their twenties and a few even older, perhaps in their thirties. He guessed they were all hoping for the same thing—confirmation that they had the talent to join the church and become mages.

Everyone wore neat, stylish garments, their materials shining in the glaring lights. Bjorn felt embarrassed when he saw his old, dirty clothes due to months of traveling. Not stopping at an inn to freshen up, he soon felt regret, yet his excitement to reach the church kept his spirits lifted.

He approached the young woman at the registration desk, trying to sound confident despite the condescending look she gave him. Her eyes swept over him, pausing at the smudges on his tunic and the dust on his boots.

“Name?" she asked, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Bjorn," he replied, keeping his tone steady.

"Any family name?" she continued, her eyebrow arching.

"I have no family name," Bjorn shot back, meeting her gaze without flinching. He wasn't about to let anyone belittle him, no matter how fancy their clothes were.

"Okay, where are you from?" she asked, scribbling down notes on a parchment.

"I'm from the town of Lutia," he answered, trying not to sound irritated by the endless questions.

"Bjorn of Lutia," she muttered as she wrote. Then, with a dismissive wave of her hand, she gestured toward an empty row of seats. "Go have a seat. Someone will attend to you shortly."

Bjorn nodded and quickly complied, finding a spot among the other hopefuls. He glanced around, noticing how many eyes were on him—some curious, others judging. But he knew he belonged here, no matter what anyone thought. This was his chance to prove himself, and he wasn't going to let a little condescension hold him back.

After a few minutes, a friendly-looking novice with a bright smile approached him. "Bjorn of Lutia?" she asked, her tone much warmer than the previous receptionist.

"That's me," he replied, smiling back at her.

"Follow me," she said, gesturing for him to come along. As they walked down a long corridor lined with doors, Bjorn felt his excitement building. This was it—the moment he'd been waiting for.

Finally, they stopped at a particular door. The novice opened it and stepped aside, inviting Bjorn to enter. The anticipation was palpable as he took a deep breath and walked through.

“This is Adept Cooke, he will handle your test,” she announced, indicating the seated Adept.

As she exited the room, Adept Cooke offered a reassuring smile to Bjorn, who stood there awkwardly, armed with his weapons.

“Well, you certainly came prepared,” Adept Cooke chuckled, eyeing Bjorn's weapons with amusement. “But I can assure you, you won't be needing those for this challenge.” He grinned kindly at the embarrassed young man, who quickly took a seat.

“Firstly, let me be clear: there's a good chance you won't pass this test,” Adept Cooke explained, his tone turning serious. “Over eighty percent of people who attempt it fail, lacking any magical talent.”

Bjorn felt a rush of anxiety. He hadn't considered the possibility that he might not possess the magical abilities needed to succeed.

“Now, if you're still willing to proceed, there's the matter of the f*e,” Adept Cooke continued.

“F*e?” Bjorn asked, surprised.

“Yes, twenty silver marks or one gold coin will do,” Adept Cooke replied, his smile still present.

Bjorn's heart sank at the thought. That amount would nearly deplete his savings. Suppressing his apprehension, he counted out the twenty silver marks and handed them over.

As Adept Cooke tucked away the payment, Bjorn couldn't help but lament, “There goes my savings,” to himself.

"This is an essence prism," the adept said as he set a small, glowing object on the table. "Just concentrate on it, and it will reveal your affinity."

Bjorn placed his hands on the prism, focusing intently. His eyes narrowed as he concentrated, waiting for something—anything—to happen.

After a few minutes, a black dot began to appear within the prism. It started as a tiny speck, then slowly grew, swirling and pulsating like a living thing.

"It worked! It worked!!" Bjorn shouted, his face breaking into a huge smile.

But when he turned to look at the adept, he saw only horror. The adept's eyes were fixed on the prism, wide and filled with fear.

Bjorn glanced back at the prism, and his excitement turned to shock. The prism was disintegrating before his eyes, the magical energy within it devouring the crystal from the inside out.

"Wait here," the adept said in a strained voice, his demeanor completely changed. He quickly left the room, practically running down the hallway.

The adept burst into Master Yuki's office without knocking. "Master Yuki, we have a problem!"

Yuki barely looked up from his desk, his tone bored and uninterested. "What's the matter?"

Master Yuki appears to be in his thirties, but there's something about him that makes it hard to pin down his exact age. He has an air of agelessness, a timeless quality that feels ancient yet youthful at the same time. His eyes, however, are the real giveaway—they hold a deep, knowing wisdom, the kind that comes only from living through countless years and experiences.

"I just tested someone with a forbidden source," Adept Cooke replied, his voice edged with panic.

The bored expression vanished from Master Yuki's face. He stood up abruptly, his eyes sharp and alert. "Show me. Now." He followed Cooke out of the office, moving quickly towards the testing hall where Bjorn waited, oblivious to the storm he had just unleashed.