Eryndor documents clutched tight in his hand, reached the front of the registrar's line. The female clerk, whose face hardened her eyes gazing at the papers solemnly, her eyes were tired but it was hard to tell,she glanced at his papers before stamping them with a thud.
"Eryndor Thorne Barracks C, Room 17. Dinner rations will be distributed at Barracks c in one hour." Her voice was flat, devoid of any warmth. She shoved a small, rough map into his hand, already looking past him to the next waiting candidate. "Next?"
Barracks C. Eryndor sighed, his shoulders slumping. The "Outer Quarters" were a collection of rigid and stern, blocky buildings, clearly erected in haste to accommodate the yet to be admitted students. They lacked the imposing grandeur of the Academy proper, looking more like a military encampment than a place of magical learning.
He found Barracks C, a long, low structure with dozens of identical wooden doors. The air inside was thick with the scent of unwashed bodies, cheap soap, and shallow energy. The hallway was narrow, dimly lit by a few sputtering oil lamps, and bustling with young men and girls searching for their assigned rooms.
As Eryndor navigated the crowded corridor, his gaze fixed on the numbers above the doors, he bumped into someone. Hard.
"Watch it, country bumpkin!" a sneering voice snapped.
Eryndor stumbled back, his backpack sliding off his shoulder. He looked up to see three figures, undoubtedly the "wealthy" type. Their uniform has golden embroidery designs, and their faces held an arrogant disdain. The one in the center, a tall, lanky youth with sharp features and even sharper eyes, seemed to be the leader. His hair was meticulously styled.
"Apologies," Eryndor mumbled, bending to retrieve his pack. "The hallway's a bit crowded."
The two boys behind the leader snickered. "Oh, listen to him, Darius. The little farm boy wants to lecture us on manners."
Darius, the leader, stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "You think you belong here, do you? Rubbing shoulders with future Arch-Mages?" His hand glowed faintly, a subtle, almost imperceptible shimmer of arcane energy around his fingertips. It wasn't an attack, but a clear display of power, a warning.
"I didn't mean any disrespect. There's no need for that," Eryndor retorted, a spark of his grandfather's stubbornness flaring. "I have as much right to be here as anyone. I was summoned, just like you."
Darius chuckled, a cold, humorless sound. "Summoned, perhaps. But not chosen." He raised his hand, and a wave of unseen force slammed into Eryndor chest. It wasn't a violent push, more like a sudden, focused pressure that knocked the wind out of him. Elara staggered backward, tripping over his own feet, and landed hard against the opposite wall, his head thudding against the rough wood.
Laughter erupted from Darius and his companions, loud and mocking, echoing down the corridor. Other candidates passing by glanced over, some with pity, others with a knowing smirk, but none intervened. They simply averted their eyes and continued on their way.
"Know your place, commoner," Darius sneered, dusting off his hands as if Eryndor were something dirty. "The Academy has no use for the magically inept." With that, he and his cronies sauntered off, their laughter trailing behind them.
Eryndor pushed himself up, rubbing his aching head. Humiliation burned in his cheeks. He had wanted to defend himself, to shout back, but that invisible shove had disarmed him completely. It was magic, pure and simple, and he had no defense against it.
"You alright there, mate?" a voice asked.
Eryndor looked up to see a neat dressed boy, his jacket holds no embroidery designs and you could tell he wasn't from a wealthy family, only the wealthy ones could afford the designed knee length jacket, his blonde hair slightly ruffled, and his lips held a friendly grin. He held out a hand, helping Eryndor steady himself. "They're a pain, those high-and-mighty types. Especially the red headed, Thinks he's already the Head Archmage."
Eryndor brushed off his shoulder, feeling utterly defeated. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… surprised."
"Don't be," the boy shrugged. "Name's Finn Hartwell, by the way. Barracks C, Room 17. Guess that makes us roommates." He gestured down the hall.
Eryndor eyes widened. "Room 17? That's my room too." A small, genuine smile finally touched his lips. "Eryndor throne. Good to meet you, Finn."
They found their room, a small, spartan space with two narrow cot and a single wooden table at the centre of the room. As they unpacked, the conversation flowed easily, a welcome distraction from the earlier humiliation. Finn was talkative, eager to share gossip about the Academy and his own expectations.
"So, what's your specialty, Eryndor?" Finn asked, flopping onto his cot. "Elemental? Conjuration? My family has a knack for illusions, so I'm hoping to get into the Veilweavers' Guild." The strongest guild in Argentum. Eryndor hesitated, He liked Finn's open nature, but the shame of his secret was a heavy burden. Yet, something in Finn's easygoing manner made him feel he could trust him.
He took a deep breath. "Finn… I have to tell you something. And please, don't laugh."
Finn sat up, a curious frown on his face. "What is it?"
"I… I don't have magic," Eryndor confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Not a spark. I was summoned, but I don't know why. I can't cast a single spell. I'm… I'm completely powerless."
Finn stared at him for a long moment, then burst out laughing.
It wasn't malicious, like Darius's laughter. It was a hearty, unrestrained guffaw that echoed in the small room. Eryndor heart sank.
"You're serious?" Finn finally managed between chuckles, and his face turned serious "No magic? And you're here at the Argentum Magic Academy? That's… that's quite a prank on the Emperor's part, isn't it?"
Eryndor shoulders slumped. "It's not a prank, Finn. It's my life. And I have to pass three exams to even stay here."
Finn's laughter slowly subsided, replaced by a look of genuine surprise, then a glimmer of something else – curiosity, perhaps even respect. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Well," Finn said, a wry grin spreading across his face, "that certainly changes things. But you know what? I've always been pretty good at theory. My practical spells are... well, they're a work in progress. But I've been studying the texts for years, memorizing everything. The history, the magic flows, the aura types, even the intent projection stuff." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to an excited whisper. "
Eryndor stared at him, a tiny spark of hope igniting in his chest. "i think I would be able to pass through the exam, with the information and knowledge I have gathered it should be put into practice now, " his voice solemn and confident.
"Okay if you say do, I would like to see you try because in the history of Argentum, no one without magic has never been placed at class A, and it is rare to find a normal human in the academy. " He informed and he shrugged his shoulder, "you can still try your best who knows what might happen."
Just then, a clear, authoritative voice echoed from the hallway, cutting through the general dormitory noise. "Attention, candidates in Barracks C! Listen up!"
Eryndor and Finn exchanged a glance and quickly moved to their door, peering out. Standing in the middle of the corridor was a young girl, dark hair cascading down her shoulder with a husky builded guy behind her his face hardened his deep blue eyes was hollow his dark hair sweeping his forehead, perhaps a few years older than them, dressed in a deep blue wizard like robe with intricate silver embroidery. A small, golden brooch in the shape of a soaring griffin gleamed on her chest same as the boy but you could see his trousers to differentiate their clothing style, a mark of a high-ranking student, likely a Prefect or a senior scholar. Her expression was serious, almost regal.
His voice, though not magically amplified like the Proctor's, carried easily, imbued with a natural command. "My name is Kaiden Rufus and this is Lynn Weiner. We are from the the Acranum highest rank class and the upcoming mages and have been tasked with overseeing the initial preparations for your examinations."
She held up a glowing parchment. "Your first trial, the Theoretical Aptitude Test, will commence at sunrise tomorrow morning. Report to the Grand Convocation Chamber promptly. Be well-rested. Be prepared. The Academy tolerates no tardiness, and no excuses."
She paused, her gaze sweeping over the faces peering from the doorways, her eyes lingering for a moment on Eryndor and Finn's room before moving on. "Dinner rations will be distributed from Barracks A in twenty minutes. Ensure you have collected your required writing implements from the supply tent by the main gate before the hour. Any questions are to be directed to the designated Proctors, not to senior students. That is all."
With a crisp nod, lynn turned and walked away with kaiden tailing behind, her blue tunic swishing silently down the hall.
Eryndor and Finn looked at each other, the casual banter instantly replaced by a sudden surge of adrenaline. "Sunrise tomorrow!" Finn whispered, his eyes wide. "Well, that settles it, Eryndor No time to waste. You got any parchment? We're pulling an all-nighter!"