Feeling the weight of dismissal, Evan turned away. The prospect of spending half his meager funds on a test with uncertain outcome seemed foolhardy. He needed a different approach. As he walked towards the exit, his gaze swept the grand hall. A large, ornate notice board caught his eye near the entrance. Parchments of various sizes were pinned to it – announcements, requests, advertisements.
Most were for complex alchemical ingredients, rare spell components, or high-level magical commissions far beyond Evan's means or skills. But one, smaller notice pinned near the bottom, stood out:
Milan Institute of Magic and Martial Arts - Preliminary Screening
Location: The Orchid Pavilion, Merchant's Quarter
Date: Third day of the Crescent Moon (Tomorrow)
Time: Mid-morning
Seeking: Talented youths (Ages 15-20) demonstrating exceptional potential in magical or martial disciplines for consideration for the Autumn Term.
Administered by: Senior Student Sharon, under the authority of Vice-Headmaster Oliviera.
Note: Formal sponsorship letters recommended but not mandatory for preliminary assessment. Assessment fee: Two silvers.
Hope surged anew. The Milan Institute! Here, in Polis! And only two silvers! This was his chance! He committed the location – 'The Orchid Pavilion' – and the date to memory. He had one day.
The Merchant's Quarter was a labyrinth of wealth. Fine shops displayed luxurious goods, streets were cleaner, guards more numerous. 'The Orchid Pavilion' wasn't an inn, but a refined establishment combining a high-end tea house with private meeting rooms, favored by merchants for discreet negotiations. Its entrance was tasteful, adorned with actual orchids blooming under subtle climate-control spells.
The next morning, Evan arrived early, his two silver pieces clutched tightly. Already, a small crowd had gathered – perhaps twenty youths, mostly his age or slightly older. They came with parents, mentors, or alone. Some wore fine clothes, projecting confidence; others looked nervous like Evan. A few bore weapons or had the subtle aura of practiced mages. A table was set up near the entrance, manned by two young women in distinctive robes of pale blue and silver – the colors of the Milan Institute. One, strikingly beautiful with sharp, intelligent eyes and an air of effortless authority, seemed to be in charge. Senior Student Sharon, Evan guessed.
A man in a steward's uniform collected fees and checked names against a list. Evan paid his two silvers, received a small token with a number (17), and joined the others waiting in a cordoned-off area of the elegant courtyard.
"Number seventeen! Evan Young!" The steward's voice called out as the morning sun climbed higher.
Evan stepped forward, his heart pounding. He was directed into a small, quiet side room. Inside, seated behind a simple table, was Sharon. Up close, her beauty was undeniable, but her gaze was sharp and assessing. Beside her stood a man in his late thirties, wearing the robes of a senior instructor – dark blue with silver trim, marking him as a Blue-Rank Mage. He had a stern face, close-cropped dark hair, and piercing eyes that missed nothing. This was Oliviera, the Vice-Headmaster conducting the screening.
Oliviera spoke first, his voice crisp and devoid of warmth. "Evan Young. Arcadia Kingdom." He glanced at a parchment before him. "No formal sponsorship noted. Declared discipline?"
"Zither Magic, sir," Evan replied, keeping his voice steady.
One of Oliviera's eyebrows rose fractionally. "Lute Magus? Uncommon. Demonstrate."
Evan hesitated, his hands flexing slightly at his sides. "Sir... I... I lack my instrument. It was... lost during my journey." The admission pained him.
Oliviera's expression didn't change, but Evan sensed a flicker of impatience. "No instrument? Then how do you propose to demonstrate your aptitude? Recite theoretical principles? Describe the resonance matrix of a minor harmonic progression?" His tone was challenging.
Sharon watched Evan closely, her head tilted slightly. "Vice-Headmaster," she interjected smoothly, her voice melodic but firm, "Perhaps a basic mana resonance test? To gauge potential?"
Oliviera gave a curt nod. "Very well. Standard procedure." He gestured towards a fist-sized, milky-white crystal sphere resting on the table. "Place your hand upon the Resonance Orb. Focus your internal energy. It will measure your innate mana capacity and elemental affinity."
Evan stepped forward, placing his right palm flat on the cool, smooth surface of the orb. He closed his eyes, reaching inward as Quentin had taught him – not towards the empty space where the Sovereigns should be, but towards the deep wellspring of mental strength cultivated by the Innocent Heart Core. He focused his will, channeling that pure, disciplined energy into his hand.
The Resonance Orb remained stubbornly inert. No light flickered within its depths. No color emerged.
Oliviera frowned. "Focus, boy! Concentrate your mana! Are you even trying?"
"I... I am focusing, sir," Evan insisted, pouring more mental energy into the orb. Still, nothing happened. The Heart Core cultivated pure mental/spiritual energy, not the elemental mana the Orb was designed to detect. His unique cultivation path was invisible to its standard parameters.
Oliviera's frown deepened into a scowl. He snatched Evan's wrist, his fingers pressing against the pulse point. Evan felt a sudden, invasive probe – a surge of foreign mental energy attempting to scan his internal pathways. Instinct, honed by years of maintaining the purity of the Innocent Heart Core against external influences, reacted instantly. His cultivated energy recoiled, forming an imperceptible barrier, deflecting the invasive probe.
Oliviera snatched his hand back as if burned, his eyes widening in surprise and indignation. "You dare resist a Master Mage's assessment? What are you hiding?" His voice rose, echoing in the small room. "No instrument? No mana signature? Obstructing a formal screening? This is preposterous! Are you wasting our time, boy?"