Chapter 1: The Entrance Rite

Samual felt the memories flowing into his mind - memories that were not his own.

Yes, FATE… FATE was the key.

With it he could undo his mistakes; give Alexya and Percival the lives they deserved, and as for his future—well, maybe it was better this way.

He opened his eyes and smirked at the transparent blue ghost in front of him.

“I’m going to be honest here… I kinda expected that to hurt.”

Chapter 1:

The Entrance Rite

Samual Foster backed away, eyes raised in terror. The large menacing beast slowly crept towards him, its eyes a fiery hue of red.

Without warning it lunged at his friend, slashing her across the chest.

“NO!” he screamed as Alexya stumbled back, crimson blood coating her fiery locks. The beast pounced forward skewing her through, blood gushing from the wound.

“NO!!”

She collapsed limply on the ground, her lifeless eyes staring into his soul.

“S-stay back!” Samual heard a familiar voice scream. “Get away!”

Looking around, Samual caught sight of Percival. His friend stood with his back pinned against a tree, swinging a branch at the beast, but to no avail. The monster lunged at him, its jaw clamping tightly onto Percival’s arm. The boy screamed in agony as it threw him into the ground. Samual winced as a tearing sound reached his ears.

“Oh gods no…”

The beast clamped down on Percival’s head, his dirty-blond hair caught between the teeth of the monster.

“No…”

Its massive fangs crunched down, crushing his friend’s skull.

“No…!”

Percival’s disfigured head turned to glare at Samual.

“Sam…u…al…you…did…this…!”

“N-no…! I-I—!”

His friend's skin boiled as it began to melt off his face and—!

Samual woke with a start, gasping.

For the past two months, he had been having the same recurring dream.

It was still fresh in his mind;

The creature’s teeth dripping with his friend’s blood…

The mangled bodies sprawled across the ground, bones tearing through flesh…

The disfigured head, the empty eyes…!

“…you…did…this…!”

Samual bit his lip as he tried to clear his mind.

Relax… It’s all just a dream…

Samual rose to his feet and tore open the curtain, the blindingly bright light burning his eyes.

He blinked.

The sun hung, suspended in the sky, its brilliant rays illuminating the lush forestry as the trees swayed with the wind.

A bird began singing in the distance, its elegant voice easing his fears.

Samual’s eyes returned to the radiance of the sun.

The light was comforting, but something felt wrong.

“Oh no….”

Samual rushed out of his room in a frenzy.

“Crap. Crap…! Crap!”

He reached the banquet hall to find his parents sitting down to breakfast.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He questioned them, not even trying to hide the frustration in his voice, “The Entrance Rite is today!”

Samual’s mother glanced up at him and chuckled.

“It was delayed, remember? Besides, we thought you needed the extra rest.”

At this Samual relaxed.

“You should probably go meet up with your friends; Alexya and… Percival, right?” his mother said with a grin.

At the name “Percival”, his father frowned. Samual’s parents, Louis and Freya Foster were high-ranking elves. They were well known in the Elvish capital city of Arhserin, and as such, disliked those that were different.

And Percival was certainly different. He was a Half-blood with a human father and an elvish mother. His mother; Eshvel, had always enjoyed traveling, and she documented other lands. She had come from a powerful family, but while she was out mapping the human territories, she met Percival’s father. Their meeting was frowned upon, and, once they were wed, her family disowned her and she was banished from Arhserin. Percival had come to the city after her untimely death and went to live with Eldrida Melech - a friend of his mother - a couple of years ago.

“You know associating with that boy will only bring disgrace, Samual,” his father remarked as Samual rose from his seat, “You need to start thinking about your—”

“I should probably get going,” Samual said, frowning at the floor, his jaw tightly clenched, “Don’t want to be late.”

Without another word, he hurriedly left to meet up with his friends.

Samual arrived shortly at the designated meeting place. Looking around himself, he saw Alexya leaning against a tree, her pointed ears protruding from her fiery orange hair which blazed brightly in the brilliance of the rising sun. Percival stood next to her, his short dirty-blond hair, sticking out every which way while the large tuft of hair on his forehead blew gently in the breeze. Alexya was grinning as Samual approached.

“Oh no, did I miss one of Percival’s ‘incredible’ jokes?” Samual teased.

“Come on, they’re not that bad!” Percival replied with a smirk.

Samual smiled.
“Go ahead and tell me; you know you want to.”
“Fine.” His friend responded grinning, “I recently took up blindfolded archery. I’m liking it a lot. If you haven't tried it, give it a go. . . You don’t know what you’re missing!”

“Wow . . .” Samual said, rolling his eyes.
“Sounds like it would have some…drawbacks,” Alexya snickered as Percival laughed along with her.

Samual shook his head.
“Just . . . Wow . . . Anyway, are you guys ready for the Entrance Rite?”

“Actually, I STILL have no clue what that even is!” Percival responded, sagging his shoulders for dramatic effect.

“Wait,” Samual replied, furrowing his brows. “No one told you?”

“So what IS it?”

Alexya took a step towards him.

“It’s a test that determines what Guild you’ll be placed in.”

“Wait, what...?”

“You attempt a series of incantations each meant to initiate a different spell. Depending on how each one reacts to you, you are placed in either the Order of the Bright Flame, the Whiteguard, or the Exiled Mystics. The Whiteguard is the highest-ranking guild, though only those with notable family renown are strong enough to achieve the needed results. The Order of the Bright Flame is next and is for the middle class. Finally, the Exiled Mystics take the weakest, though what they specialize in is unknown. Come to think of it,”

Her eyebrows crinkled in a frown,

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen anyone return after they joined the Mystics.”

“Oh, thanks,” Percival responded dryly, “No pressure there.”

“Anyway, I know Samual is probably going into the Whiteguard, but what guild do you think you’ll end up in?” Alexya asked curiously.

Percival raised his eyebrows thoughtfully.

“Well,” He said, scratching his chin “I am part of a high-ranking family, sooooo. . .

“But wasn’t your mother banished or something?” Alexya pressed, “Didn’t she forfeit her title?”

“That’s enough!” Samual interjected sharply, noticing Percival’s visible discomfort on the topic, “…Anyway, we should probably head toward the Academy.”

Percival nodded somberly.

“Yeah…”

They soon came into view of the courtyard and Percival gasped.

Marble pillars sprouted from the earth as flowery vines crept across them, the vibrant blossoms shining brilliantly in the sunlight. Near the center of the courtyard stood a fountain with a statue for every one of the seven races in the continent of Usherath. They were arranged in the order of their magical prowess, each one having a short description attached. Percival walked by them in order, examining each plaque as he passed by.

Sylphs;

“Shy Sprites, capable of possessing objects, with animalistic personalities and child-like dispositions. They were neutral in The Great War of the Races.”

Next came the Elves;

“Beings capable of wielding most types of magic, excluding Human, Nyamoran, and Soul Reaper magic. Elves, characterized by their pointed ears, and fair skin, are tall elegant creatures graced with extraordinarily lengthy lifespans. They sided with the Humans and Nyamorans in The Great War of the Races.”

Then Soul Reapers:

“Creatures born of darkness. Banished in The Great War of the Races. They Seek vengeance and become stronger by absorbing hate. Soul Reapers Wield dark occult magic.”

After came the Nyamorans:

“Cat-like in appearance, Nyamorans are fierce humanoids with high agility and the capability to wield spirit animal magic; a type that augments the user with the abilities of the summoned animal. They sided with the Elves and Humans in The Great War of the Races.”

Then came the Humans:

“Beings believed to be the weakest race, capable of wielding their own type of weak magic, though unable to wield the magic of any other race. They sided with the Elves and Nyamorans in The Great War of the Races.”

Percival frowned but continued forward.

Next were the Trolls:

“Strong physical fighters with low magic ability. All of their magic is of the augmentative and buffing classes, further increasing their strength. They were neutral in The Great War of the Races.”

And last came the Moonshifters:

“Human-like in appearance, Moonshifters transform into a wolf/human hybrid at night. Unable to use magic, they rely on their wolf-like abilities and enhanced strength. They have a loose ever-changing hierarchy and Value strength above all else. The Moonshifters were split in The Great War of the Races with some aiding the Soul Reapers, and some aiding the humans, Elves, and Nyamorans.”

Percival was curious as to what the “Great War of the Races” actually was, but decided to wait till after the exam to ask his friend. After all, there were much more pressing things on his mind.

♅ ♅ ♅

Samual strode calmly into the meeting hall. Glancing back to make sure his friends were still with him, he found his seat and sat down.

Soon, the rite began.

One by one, the names were called, and each student came forward to chant four spells from the four magical tomes.

First came the Manifest Spell, which created a phantom persona that took the form of the student's essence. Samual was expected to manifest the Noble Lion, a powerful persona that was common in the Foster bloodline. Next came the Elemental tome, which would determine which element the speaker would be able to wield. After that, the incantation from the Aura tome would craft the user's element into a powerful spell.

Samual had good reason to hope for a potent element, but he had no idea what aura he might manifest; they were just too unpredictable. The final incantation, the most mysterious one of all, was the Divine Eruption. Most elves couldn't successfully initiate it, and Samual knew he didn't have much chance to succeed. But maybe… Just maybe.

Samual watched as Alexya rose and proceeded toward the first tome. As she recited the Manifest Spell, the tome glowed a dazzling violet, and a fiery, bright orange bird; a Phoenix, blazed into existence above her. The Phoenix's fiery feathers illuminated the room and Samual and his fellow students gasped.

The Phoenix, a mystical creature with power over life itself, had never in the history of Usherath had its power harnessed, let alone been summoned. The class stared in awe at the marvelous beast, and, as the Phoenix dissipated into the air, silence filled the room. The Principal motioned for Alexya to continue. While Alexya moved on to the tome of Elements, Percival nudged Samual and whispered, "Way to go, Alexya!"
Dumbstruck, Samual could only nod.
Alexya chanted the elemental spell, and a spark shot out of her hand.
"Electricity," the Principal announced, pride lain heavy in his voice.
She then moved on to the Aura tome, summoning an electrically charged mist.
"Volt Surge."
With her golden aura fading, Alexya spoke the final spell, Divine Eruption.
The class held its breath. …

…

…
Nothing.
Gesturing for Alexya to return to her seat, the Principal called the next student.
"Samual."

Nervous but eager, Samual came forward to begin. As he chanted the Manifest Spell, Samual heard muttering erupt from his classmates. He looked up.
"Oh wow."
Hovering above him was a draconic serpent;
“Akhekhu!" the Principal announced.

“Wait, that’s Akhekhu?!”

Samual's surprise melted into excitement. Murmuring whispers tore through the class.

“But I thought it would be the Noble Lion.”

“Isn’t he a Foster?”

Samual just shrugged it off.

He grinned, this was going well.
After all, Akhekhu was even more powerful than the Noble Lion! Next, Samual chanted the elemental spell. Immediately a massive flame formed above his head.

The intense heat of the blaze didn't bother Samual at all; it felt exhilarating.
"Flame of the Arcane," the Principal pronounced.
The strongest element.
Samual couldn't stop himself from grinning as he moved on to the Aura tome, and a swarm of brilliant, blood-red sparks surrounded him.
"Celestial Flame," the Principal declared, a glint of pride in his eyes.
Samual came to the Divine Eruption spell and stopped.
Most people can’t activate this spell, He thought. But . . .

Samual took a deep breath and chanted the incantation.

A brief moment of silence…
Nothing.

“Percival.”

Slightly nauseous, Percival rose to his feet and stumbled forward. He tried to smile at Samual - clearly, his friend was disappointed - but Percival's mouth was clenched with worry, and his smile probably looked more like a grimace.

What if nothing happened?

A shiver raced down his spine.

What if I…?

Stepping up to the first spell, Percival tried to think of a joke.

What do you get when a half-elf uses the Manifest Spell?
He reached forward, his hand shaking, and laid it down - palm first - on the tome. Percival chanted the incantation.

Without warning, a small, kitten-like creature appeared and landed on his shoulder.

*Purrrrrrrrrr*

Laughter erupted around him as it dissipated into the air.

The Principal raised an eyebrow.

"Unfortunately, I am not familiar with that persona's title," He gloated, “Maybe it's a rare half-blood Familiar!”
Percival slumped as the laughter grew in volume.

“…A punchline," he grumbled.

Percival proceeded to the Elemental tome and cringed when only a gentle breeze greeted him as it ruffled his hair.

A breeze? He thought sourly, Great! That will carry me all the way to the Exiled Mystics!

The muttering began again and Percival continued on to the Aura tome disheartened. Chanting the spell that formed in his mind, Percival conjured a nearly transparent arrow made entirely from air.

"Wind Bolt," the Principal smirked. "You can go now."
Percival blinked.
"What about the last one?"
"Oh, you can try," The Principal answered smugly, "I just wanted to save you any further embarrassment."
Percival heard snickering erupt from his classmates, as well as some angry grumbling from Samual.
“Too late for that,” Percival muttered, his face bright red.
He glanced at his friends.

Well, I don't have anything to lose.
Percival walked slowly up to the final tome.

He closed his eyes as he reached out to it, and spoke the incantation.

Immediately, a blast of violet energy slammed him into the wall. It roared around him, a whirlwind of power, growing larger and larger; and then - just as abruptly as it had appeared - it vanished.

In the ensuing silence, a knightly, robed figure stood and strode forward from the back of the hall.
“There are three more spells for you to attempt," The knight said, offering Percival his hand, “One, in particular, may very well become invaluable to you in the future.”

Percival took the knight’s hand and scrambled to his feet.
"There's more? I thought this was the last one."
The knight just gestured toward the wall.

Placing his hand on it, the mysterious figure spoke:
"Holy Revelation.”

A glowing, mystical pattern appeared around his hand, and three tomes emerged from the wall, each one delicately embellished with lavish designs and patterns.

“These are the ones of which I spoke.”

Awestruck, Percival crept closer.

The Knightly figure stopped him,

“Be sure that you are ready.”

Nodding, Percival took five more steps forward.

He took a deep breath.

“Ready.”

Percival placed his hands on the first tome, and a glowing violet light enveloped his body, silhouetting him in a vibrant pulsating energy.

“Whoa, my body feels so… light!”

“You are using a Nyamoran magic unpronounceable by elvish tongues. You will notice that as you lack a Nyamoran’s characteristic tail and ears, the energy surges to form phantasmic ones around your outline. The spell enhances the senses and body, greatly increasing one’s capabilities. Use it well.”

With the next tome, a light sprang from Percival’s hand and enveloped the room with its brilliance.
“Light Flare; it illuminates even the darkest spaces. You can also shape it into many forms, such as projectiles and weapons as the situation dictates making it a highly versatile tool. …The final tome, if you please.”

Percival rested his hands on the last tome, this one engraved with an Ankh. Suddenly he heard a faint voice echo in his ear.

It’s you.

He looked around himself, confused, but everyone was silent.

“Hmmm… curious indeed… Concealment of Secrets.”

Just as quickly they had appeared, the tomes submerged themselves into the wall.

“That’s all. You may proceed.”