I have this rough draft for chapter 1 and some of chapter 2 of my book, and I wanted some advice.
Have I built rivalries without fights (Arima)? Do I successfully build anticipation for the upcoming qualification trials? Does the reader slowly understand what a talisman is? (I don't need them to understand the whole power system right away, just like Harry Potter, where a bunch of information gets dumped but the reader doesn't necessarily understand it right away). Also, does anyone want to be my writing pal?
Chapter 1
The first day of Aegis Academy’s new year arrived beneath a brilliantly blue sky. Spring had settled comfortably over the academy grounds. Cherry blossom trees lined the stone pathways, their branches clustered with light pink petals. A gentle spring breeze drifted through the campus, the wind gracefully carrying along petals before setting them upon the grass below.
Students filled every corner of the academy. Some had arrived early to visit their friends after break. Some were bouncing in anticipation, ready for their first year in high school.
Others compared their training results. A few of them were already arguing about which class would dominate practical examinations.
Laughter echoed across the courtyard. The academy felt alive. Well, alive with the exception of one person, of course. He just didn’t seem to fit in. Not quite.
A quiet third-year student, named Ren Asahi.
For most students, the beginning of a new school year was exciting. New training opportunities. A fresh start. New ranking cycle. The atmosphere reflected the energy in the air.
Groups gathered beneath the trees, waiting for the bell in anticipation. A few first-years looked nervous. Second-years seemed confident. Third-years appeared determined. This was their final year. The last step before graduation. The last year before exiting academy walls, and becoming whatever profession they strived to achieve.
Then, the bell rang. A clear chime echoed through the campus. Conversations immediately began dying down, the crowd settling and following instructions of the teachers.
“All first-year students, please go to the gym. Second-years, go to the examination room, and third-year students go to the assembly hall. There will be a formal assembly conducted for each year. Orientation will begin shortly.”
Teachers positioned through the courtyard began directing students. The flow of students merged into a stream before branching off into different sections once again inside the main building. The third-years filed into the assembly hall, taking their seats.
As the doors slowly closed behind them, one of the vice principals came on stage to make an announcement.
“Hello. As you all should know, my name is Vice Principal Akira,” he said, instantly silencing the crowd.
“I will take this opportunity to remind you all that none of you will be in this school next year. Some of you will be in government institutions. Some will join research institutions. Some will become professional operatives.” The principal took a brief moment to pause, as if letting the student body absorb the given information.
“Very few of you will become heroes or hunters. Even less, if any at all, will become KAGE agents.”
The room seemed to tense up at the mention of KAGE. Students instinctively sat straighter. People turned heads to look at one another. Whispers circulated around the room.
“And some of you may discover that the path you imagined yourself on is not the one you shall end up walking.”
“You are no longer first years. You are no longer second years either. You are now in your third year. The academy will expect more from you. Instructors will expect more from you. The nation as a whole will expect more from you.”
He took a moment to pause. “And whether or not you realize it, you should begin expecting more from yourselves as well.”
Third year was different. Everyone knew it. This was it. There was no more procrastinating. No more pretending that graduation was far away.
It wasn’t far away. Soon, everyone’s futures would be decided.
“Your third-year qualification assessments begin tomorrow. Along with them, come the sports festivals and academy rankings. Those will determine whether or not you receive internships and recommendations. All of them matter.”
Several students exchanged glances. The academy rankings were the first major event of the year. They were a chance for students to prove themselves, or fail publicly.
Neither outcome seemed particularly appealing.
“Some of the students sitting beside you may become your future colleagues.” His gaze moved across the room. “Some may become your rivals. Others? Others may become your superiors.” A few students laughed quietly. Akira ignored them.
“They may even become responsible for saving your life one day.” That caught some students’ attention.
“Talent is valuable. Skill is valuable. Strength is valuable. But character matters more.”
“For now, survive your first week.”
The room erupted into laughter. Even the instructors couldn’t help but crack a smile.
“And now, time for a list of some of the rules and regulations that must be followed.”
Akira unfolded a sheet of paper. Several students sighed. One audibly groaned in the back. “As always, I will now review several academy regulations.”
A collective sense of dread spread throughout the room. “First: Talisman assisted gambling, or any sort of gambling for that matter, remains strictly prohibited on school grounds.” Several students immediately looked away from one another.
“I presume I should not have to explain why.” Akira said, reinforcing his statement. “Second. The creation of unofficial academy ranking pools is prohibited.”
Several students appeared very guilty.
“Third.” Akira’s voice became noticeably more annoyed. “The prank talisman known as Echo Loop remains prohibited. All other prank talismans remain prohibited as well.” Snickering and light laughing echoed throughout the room.
Akira rubbed his forehead. “For the final time, it’s not funny.”
Many students disagreed. Strongly.
“Causing a victim to hear their own voice repeatedly for six hours does not count as harmless fun.”
“Fourth. Transformation seals remain off limits within dormitory buildings.” Akira pinched the bridge of his nose. “Especially during sleeping hours.”
The room became suspiciously quiet.
“Yes.” Akira nodded. “I am speaking because somebody did it. We were quite disappointed to find that an entire boys dormitory woke up as cats.” Akira added, as several students started laughing again. Even a few instructors seemed to find it funny.
“Fifth. Students are forbidden from using any kind of speed enchantments in the hallways.” A student raised her hand in response. Akira pointed.
“What if we’re late for class?” She asked.
“No.” The response was instantaneous. The student lowered her hand.
“Sixth.” Akira’s eye twitched noticeably, as if he was annoyed that he even needed to state this as a fact. “The use of Iron Body, or any weight or strength enchantment during arm wrestling, or any test of strength for that matter, are considered prohibited.” A few students looked away.
“The fact that I even have to specify this concerns me to a significant degree.” Akira said, visibly disappointed.
“Seventh. No experimental enchantments are to be tested inside academy premises. Especially if they have not been tested on inanimate objects beforehand.”
A significant portion of the student body immediately became very interested in the ceiling.
“I am speaking from experience.” Akira gave the vibe that he had dealt with one too many incidents of this kind.
“Finally, no shikigami shall be used on premises, unless specifically instructed that you may cast one. We certainly don’t want dragons terrorizing first year students. If we could avoid that this year, it would be wonderful. Let us see how many of you follow these rules until graduation. Dismissed.”
The students immediately rose from their seats. The atmosphere changed almost instantly. The serious mood created by vice principal Akira’s speech evaporated as conversations erupted throughout the hall. Most students had already forgotten about the rules and regulations.
The academy rankings, however… Those had everyone’s attention. Groups formed as students began filing towards the exits.
“Think they’re changing the qualifications assessment this year?”
“I heard they are. They always make it harder for third-years.” Several students groaned.
Another group was already discussing something far more important.
“I’m aiming for top ten this year.”
“Top 10?” He laughed. “Last year, you barely made top thirty.”
“That was one time-” “It was literally last year.” The argument continued off in the distance.
Elsewhere, a third-year folded his arms confidently. “I’m taking first this year.”
The response was immediate. “As long as Ren and Arima are here?”
The confidence vanished. Several students laughed. “Yeah, good luck with that. Maybe go for third.”
“Third is still impressive.” The student sighed.
“Honestly, I don't think I’ve ever seen a day where one of them isn't either in first or in second place. Everyone else is aiming for third place as well, so that’ll be a tough competition.”
Several meters away, Ren Asahi walked through the corridor with a book open in front of him. Reading. As usual.
The crowd gradually flowed towards a series of large bulletin boards mounted across the corridor walls. Students gathered around them, standing on their toes to try and see which class they were allocated to.
Tsumugi Asano, third year, pushed her way through the crowd to scan the lists. Class 3-A, 3-B, 3-C and 3-D. Then, she found her name. Class 3-B, Tsumugi Asano. To her disappointment, Ren was allocated to class 3-A. Her shoulders dropped slightly. Of course.
A few moments later, Ren arrived. Not because he cared. Simply because he needed to know which class he was in. He glanced up. Read the list. Found his name. Then returned to his book.
“Ren!” Tsumugi called. Ren looked up. “You got placed in class 3-A.”
“I got placed in class 3-B.”
“I noticed.”
“That’s all you’re going to say? Do you not have anything you want to tell me?”
“What response were you expecting?”
“I don’t know.”
Ren considered this for several seconds. Then, he nodded. “I hope you enjoy your time in class 3-B. I have confidence that you will perform well.”
Tsumugi stared at him. “You are impossible.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment. How are you so dense?” Tsumugi said, arms crossed.
Nearby, a few students seemed ready to challenge the administration’s decisions personally. “Arima and Ren in the same class? What the hell were they thinking? How are we supposed to shine at all when internships and recommendations start happening?”
“Reo, there is no way we are getting first in anything with these two here.” Kuro wore a look of dissatisfaction.
“I’m well aware. It’s not like this was under our control, was it?” Reo didn’t seem very optimistic about it either.
In fact, neither Reo nor Kuro looked rather optimistic about surviving an entire year in class 3-A with Ren and Arima.
Meanwhile, Ren had already returned to reading. The sports festival. The academy rankings. The qualification assessments. The internships. They were all important. But to Ren… they were merely steps on his journey to become a Rei ranked sorcerer.
A bell echoed through the building. Teachers at the end of the hallways directed students. “Class 3-A, follow me.”
“Class 2-C, follow my lead.’ Many other callouts for different classes followed. Students immediately began separating into their assigned groups. Tsumugi started walking to her class line. “Bye, Ren!” She jogged off into the distance.
They walked upstairs to the third floor, turned a corner and entered Class 3-A. Students chose their own seats, some choosing to sit beside friends from past classes. third-year, Class A gradually settled into their seats. Unlike the excitement filling the hallways only minutes before, the classroom was remarkably quiet.
Ren took the desk beside the window. He continued to read about the different applications of layering enchantments. Several students glanced at him. One sighed.
“He’s already reading. Is there ever a time when he’s not reading or training?”
A few moments later, the tall man at the front of the class placed the folders neatly on the teachers desk and turned towards the class.
“Good morning. My name is Satoshi Takamine. I will be your homeroom teacher for your final year.” He folded his arms behind his back. “I specialize in field operations and tactical coordination. My responsibility is simple. To ensure that every one of you graduates is prepared for the real world.” His gaze swept across the classroom.
“Your third year is fundamentally different from everything you have experienced before. Your instructors will no longer train you to become stronger. They will train you to survive.” Silence filled the room. Mr. Takamine picked up a piece of chalk and wrote several dates on the board.
APRIL — Qualification Trial
APRIL–MAY — Academy Ranking Battles
MAY — Talisman Innovation Competition
MAY — Field Survival Exercise
JUNE — Spirit Research Institute
JUNE — City Simulation Operation
JUNE — Academy Tournament
He set the chalk down. “These are the major events taking place before your summer break. No single event determines your future. Every evaluation contributes to your academic record. Your practical ability. Your judgement. Your leadership. Your discipline. All of it is recorded.” Several students instinctively straightened themselves.
He continued. “Your academy ranking will change throughout the year. Students may challenge those above them. The higher your ranking… the greater the opportunities that will become available to you. Some of you are already thinking about internships. Good. You should. Organizations do not recruit potential. They recruit results.”
A student near the front raised his hand. “Sir.”
Mr. Takamine nodded.
“When do we choose the class representative?” A few students looked interested. Mr. Takamine’s answer came immediately.
“You don’t.” The room fell quiet. “There will be no election.” Several confused looks spread throughout the room.
“We’ve found that by the third year, instead of the way the class rep was decided in the past two years, the student body tends to choose by making it a popularity contest rather than who actually demonstrates the ability to be a fundamentally better leader. So, we’ve decided that your class representative shall be decided at the conclusion of the third-year qualification trial.”
He wrote two words on the chalkboard. Class Captain.
“The student demonstrating the highest overall performance and leadership will be elected as Class Captain. They will lead practical exercises throughout the year.” He glanced across the room once more. “These positions are appointments. Not popularity contests. If you want them… earn them.”
Near the window, Ren calmly turned the page of his book. Titles meant very little to him. His objective remained unchanged. He would, without a single hint of doubt in his mind, become a Rei ranked sorcerer. He would become stronger. Everything else was secondary.
Mr. Takamine noticed him reading. “Asahi.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Since you are already studying, perhaps you can answer something.” He folded his arms. “What is the first rule of field operations?”
The classroom turned towards Ren. He answered without turning to look, the book still out in his hand. “Mission success is meaningless if achieved through unnecessary loss.”
Mr. Takamine nodded once. “Correct.” His gaze shifted back towards the rest of the class. “Remember that. Strength wins battles. Judgment decides whether you have enough left to fight the next ones.” The classroom remained silent. He picked up the stack of folders.
“With that settled, let’s discuss the week-long qualification trials.”
Mr. Takamine reached into one of the folders resting on his desk, then withdrawing several printed schedules. “You’ll each receive one of these shortly. He held one up for the class to see. “The third-year qualification trial schedule.”
Many students leaned forward. “As the principal mentioned during the assembly, your qualification assessments begin tomorrow. They will continue from Tuesday through Saturday.”
A few students exchanged surprised glances. “Saturday?” Someone muttered. “Isn’t that supposed to be a day off?”
“You wouldn’t normally be forced to participate in school activities during a Saturday, but it is necessary for the qualification assessments to function properly. Five consecutive days. Each day evaluates a different aspect of your ability as a sorcerer.”
He turned towards the board and wrote five headings beneath one another.
Day One — Combat Evaluation
Day Two — Spiritual Control
Day Three — Tactical Operation
Day Four — Team Operations
Day Five — Integrated Field Examination
“The academy has no interest in producing students who excel only in one field. A powerful blessing alone will not carry you through your career. Neither will exceptional intelligence. Nor remarkable physical ability.” He placed the chalk down.
“A professional sorcerer should demonstrate all of those qualities. Each day’s assessment contributes to your overall qualification score. Those scores determine your academy rankings for the beginning of the year. From there, your ranking may rise… or fall.”
A quiet murmur spread throughout the classroom.
“The results also influence internship offers, recommendation eligibility, access to restricted academy facilities, and several advanced training opportunities.”
He folded his arms. “In short… they matter.”
“There will be no opportunity to repeat an assessment. No second attempts. No appeals. Life doesn’t always give you a second chance. You can’t afford to mess up your first. If you perform poorly, that result becomes a part of your permanent academic record.”
For the first time that morning, the reality of third-year standards seemed to truly sink in. Near the window, Ren calmly lowered his eyes back to the open book resting on his desk. Five days. Five evaluations. None of them changed his objective. He would simply clear each one. Then move onto the next.
“With that said, my job is not to scare you.” Mr. Takamine’s expression softened ever so slightly. “If any of you need help, my door is always open. Whether it’s your studies, your training, or something entirely unrelated, don’t hesitate to speak with me.”
He paused. Then, reinforcing his previous statement, he said: “The world beyond Aegis is harsh. It is unforgiving. My responsibility is to prepare you for it. That is why our standards continue to rise, without fail, year by year.” He glanced around the classroom.
“Remember where you are. This is Aegis Academy. We expect excellence because the world expects excellence from us.” He folded his arms behind his back once more.
“Do not let yourself get an inflated ego. But understand this. Graduating from Aegis opens doors that are closed for most. Few people are given that opportunity. So don’t waste it. Not everything worth having comes easily.”
As Mr. Takamine finished speaking, the bell echoed with a clear chime across the campus. Almost immediately, the atmosphere inside Class 3-A changed. Books closed. Conversations resumed. Chairs scraped across the floor as students got up and stretched.
Lunch. Ren quietly slid a bookmark into place before standing. His destination was already decided. The cafeteria. Not because he particularly wanted lunch. Simply because training on an empty stomach was inefficient. He stepped into the hallway, joining the stream of students flowing to the central building.
“Ren!”
He stopped. Not because he had to think about who it was. He already knew. Tsumugi jogged over from the opposite corridor, weaving effortlessly through the crowd before matching his pace.
“There you are.”
Ren sighed. Then, as if contemplating his life decisions, “Good afternoon, Tsumugi.”
She smiled. “I’ve been standing here for thirty seconds.”
“I noticed.” Ren continued walking at a breakneck pace. It was hard to believe that he wasn’t using a speed up talisman of any kind.
“No you didn’t.” Tsumugi continued to walk as fast as Ren, with a little difficulty.
“And what if I didn’t?”
“I knew it. You’re always thinking about how to get stronger.” Tsumugi sighed in disappointment. “Can’t you act like a normal teenager for once?”
“That would be inefficient. I quite like how my life is right now. Training continuously improves stamina, and my control over spiritual energy also increases.”
Tsumugi dismissed the statement and continued. “So…”
“No.” Ren gave the vibe that he already knew what was going to happen.
“I haven’t said anything yet.”
“I am familiar with your methods.”
“I’m not sure if I should feel honored or insulted.”
“You should feel neither. That was not a compliment, nor was it an insult.”
“What are your plans after lunch? Please tell me it’s something other than-”
“Training. I am going to attempt to layer complex enchantments onto my shikigami as well alongside myself. I hope this time I will succeed. What’s the saying? Thirteenth time’s the charm?”
“It’s third time’s the charm. I knew it.”
“You asked anyway. That seems inefficient.”
“I was hoping you’d surprise me.”
They continued walking in a comfortable silence for several moments. Well… comfortable for Tsumugi. Ren simply regarded silence as the most efficient state of being. Eventually they reached the main corridor overlooking the academy courtyard.
Students were everywhere. Some headed for the cafeteria. Others left campus through the front gates. Several groups were already discussing what equipment shops they planned to visit after classes.
“I need grade three talisman paper, but I’m flat broke.”
“Yeah? I need grade two talisman paper.”
“Grade two talismans?” one student laughed. “Yeah, right. Only if you’ve got government clearance. What did you spend your monthly allowance on anyway, Shigeo?”
“That one new board game looked really cool, so…”
“Of course you spent your allowance on something so dumb. What were you expecting?”
“My spear needs repairing.”
“I’m saving my allowance this month-” “You’ve been saying that for six months straight.”
A nearby vending machine emitted a cheerful chime. Rows of neatly folded talismans sat behind the glass. Basic reinforcement talismans. Healing patches. Emergency barrier talismans. Practice seals. Along with a handful of academy approved spiritual ink cartridges for drawing seals and talisman symbols.
A second machine beside it sold notebooks. The third… training bandages. Tsumugi noticed Ren glancing towards it.
“Need more talismans already?”
“I used most of mine during spring break.”
She blinked. “Already?”
“I was experimenting with them. I would normally just ask the school for more, but since rankings have been reset, I no longer have the privilege until the assessments come around.”
“Right. So what grade talismans are you going to buy?”
“Grade 3, of course.”
“Isn’t that stuff expensive? It’s cheaper when you go to a retailer. Should we go shopping after school instead?”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t spend most of my money anyway, and the time is better spent training than going on a shopping trip. I’ll just buy them from here.” Ren said, proceeding to buy a bunch of various different Grade 3 talismans with the signs already drawn onto them.
He didn’t even look at the remaining allowance. Tsumugi did.
“You spend almost all of your allowance on training.”
“It is sufficient.”
“You know you could buy real food once in a while, right?”
“This is real food.”
“I meant good food. Stuff that actually has flavour.”
“The nutritional quality of the cafeteria food is quite good, which is why it is rather lacking in taste. I would not prefer to eat outside.”
“You’re hopeless.”
They reached the cafeteria entrance. Students filled nearly every table. The smell of warm food drifted through the air. Tsumugi grabbed a tray.
Ren picked the exact same meal he’d selected every day for almost a year.
“…Again?”
“It provides the highest nutritional value,” Ren said, flatly.
“You calculated your own lunch…”
“I compared the different options until I found the one that fits my needs.”
“Of course you did.” Tsumugi sighed dramatically.
Ren and Tsumugi took a seat at an empty table, eating their meals rather quickly.
“So,” Tsumugi said between bites, “Are you excited for the qualification assessment tomorrow? It’s your favourite section first. Combat.”
Ren took another bite. As he began to open his mouth to speak, his glass of water floated up to his forehead and started to rap smartly against it.
“Give me a moment. If I don’t drink this water, it’s going to keep clinking against my forehead… It's been five minutes already.”
He drank his water quickly, and then began to speak. “I wouldn’t say excited.”
“No? Not one bit? This is an opportunity to showcase your skill!”
“It simply begins tomorrow.”
“You know… most people are pretty nervous about it. This determines your rank, and your rank basically determines your whole future…”
“You still get a chance to improve it in the academy ranking battles and tournaments.”
“I know, but it would be helpful if you started at a higher rank, you know?”
“It is not easy to defend the higher positions either. People will come to take your spot.”
“You always make everything sound like it’s terrible.”
“I simply state facts. It is the truth.”
“So… you’re not nervous.”
“Not in the slightest. Why would I be? I’ve trained all this time.”
She rested her chin on one hand. “You seriously think you’re going to get first for the third year in a row, don’t you?”
Ren thought for a moment. Then, “I will settle for nothing less than the best.”
Ren finished the last bite of his curry. Then, he stood. “I’m going to the training grounds.”
Tsumugi looked up. “Already?”
“I did tell you my plans after lunch. I assume you still remember?”
“I hope you finally succeed in trying to layer enchantments onto your shikigami.”
“Thank you,” Ren said. He rose from his chair, taking his tray with him to put it away.
“One day…” she murmured to herself. “I’m going to make you enjoy being a teenager.”
Ren left the cafeteria after putting his tray away. Unlike the bustling courtyards, only a handful of students occupied the open fields. Some practiced sword forms. Others tried to enhance their vision. Several floating practice dummies drifted lazily through the air, occasionally changing direction to simulate aerial opponents.
Ren continued walking until he reached an isolated section of the training grounds.
Satisfied, he set his bag beneath a nearby tree before kneeling on the grass.
With practiced movements, he opened the wooden case containing his talismans.
Rows of carefully organized enchantments greeted him. He reached past the simpler enchantments. Past Iron Body. Past Acceleration. His fingers stopped on Shadow Step and Edge. Ren picked up the first. Then, making a hand sign, he summoned a shikigami. It was human-like. A human-type shikigami. Roughly Ren’s height. Dark hair. Calm eyes. Dressed in the simple uniform that Ren wore every day. For several seconds, the shikigami just stood there. Then, proceeding to greet Ren, he said “Good afternoon, Ren.”
“Good afternoon, Kenji.”
“Let me guess. You had the exact same curry today, and you didn’t add seasoning.”
“Yes. Seasoning changes nothing.”
“It changes your will to live. I was hoping I would be wrong this time around. At this point, I’m convinced you don’t have taste buds.”
Kenji sighed. “Well, what are we going to do today? Same thing? You know, I still don’t think it’s going to work.”
“We can’t say until we try. No one can use a Grade 3 enchantment right away.”
“Do you know the definition of insanity?”
Ren considered the question for a moment. “Trying the same experiment while expecting a different outcome next time?”
“Exactly. It just doesn’t make sense. You won’t be able to use Shadow Step or Edge on me unless we get to the bottom of why it isn’t working.”
“Then for now, what we do is collect data to figure out what the problem is. That is the logical next step, isn’t it?” Ren said, handing over the talisman to Kenji.
“I guess you have a point.”
Kenji crushed the talisman between his two fingers. The paper dissolved into streams of silver light. Intricate markings spread across his legs before climbing towards his waist.
He closed his eyes. Took a slow breath. Then lifted one foot. Instead of touching grass, it met empty air. He shifted his weight forward. One step. Then another. He stood suspended nearly a meter above the ground. Ren’s pencil immediately began moving across the notebook in his hand.
“Don’t write yet. I’m still…” The silver markings flickered. Once. Then twice. Thin fractures spread through the enchantment like cracks of glass.
“…There it is.” The markings shattered into countless particles of light. Gravity returned and he landed lightly on the grass.
“What went wrong? Can you tell me anything? Any data is useful data.”
“My pathways feel… incomplete. It’s like the energy has nowhere to go.”
“I don’t have the slightest clue as to what that means, but we’ll write it down for now.”
A bell rang across the academy grounds. Its clear chime echoed between training buildings. Lunch was over. Kenji glanced towards the main building.
Ren bent down and closed the wooden case containing his talismans before going over to the tree and placing it back inside his bag.
“We’ll continue tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here.”
“I know.” Ren made another hand sign. The human-type shikigami smiled faintly before dissolving into countless particles of spiritual light, the fragments scattering into the breeze until nothing remained of it. Students gradually returned from every direction.
“I’m telling you, they’re definitely making the combat evaluation harder this year.”
“They always do.”
“I just hope they don’t bring in the adaptive dummies again.”
Ren walked past them without slowing down. When he entered Class 3-A, most of the students had already arrived. The moment the bell rang, Mr. Takamine began to speak.
“Today we’ll discuss the criteria used during your qualification assessment.”
Several students immediately opened their notebooks. Mr. Takamine wrote three words on the board.
Execution over Difficulty. He underlined them.
“Several students misunderstand this principle every year. Using a Grade 3 enchantment does not automatically earn you a higher score than using a Grade Four.”
Several surprised expressions appeared across the room.
“A flawlessly executed Grade Four enchantment is worth considerably more than a poorly executed Grade 3. The examination rewards mastery, not recklessness. The second day of your qualification examination evaluates spiritual control. Your ability to execute enchantments. Your precision. Your efficiency. And most importantly…”
He wrote another word beneath the sentence on the board. Layering.
“Layering enchantments correctly demonstrates understanding. Layering them incorrectly demonstrates poor judgement.” He looked across the room.
“Nishioka.”
Without hesitation, Arima Nishioka looked up. “Yes, sir?”
“An example of proper layering.”
Arima answered immediately.
“Iron body before acceleration.”
Mr. Takamine gave a nod. “Explain.”
“Acceleration dramatically increases the stress on muscles, tendons and joints. Iron Body reinforces the body beforehand, reducing structural strain. Applying acceleration first risks injury before reinforcement takes effect.”
“Correct.” Mr. Takamine looked around the room. “As you all know, order is essential. The exact same enchantments, with the exact same spiritual energy, executed in the wrong order leads to a different result.”
Mr. Takamine picked up another piece of chalk.
“For most of you, the examination will conclude with Grade 3 talismans. However,” He wrote two large words on the board. Grade 2.
“For those who demonstrate exceptional spiritual control, you will be presented with the option of attempting a Grade 2 talisman.”
The room immediately erupted into whispers.
“No way…”
“I thought students weren’t allowed anywhere near Grade 2s.”
“They’re serious?”
Mr. Takamine raised a hand. The room fell silent.
“They are optional. No student is required to attempt them, and I strongly advise against doing so unless you have complete confidence in your ability to use Grade 3 talismans.”
“There is a reason Grade 2’s are government regulated. They require significantly more refined spiritual control than anything most of you have attempted. If your control is insufficient, the talisman will overload your spiritual pathways.” He let the statement settle over the room before continuing.
“The damage is temporary. But it will render you unable to properly manipulate your spiritual energy for the remainder of the qualification assessment. In other words, if you fail, you don’t simply lose marks on Wednesday. You’ll perform poorly for the rest of the week.”
Silence filled the room. Mr. Takamine continued.
“There is no shame in recognizing your limitations. However…” He paused.
“There is considerable shame… in ignoring them.”
“No examiner will think less of you for refusing a Grade 2 talisman. They will think considerably less of you if your pride prevents you from making the right decision.”
“Now that we’ve addressed the elephant in the room, let us discuss the first assessment. Tomorrow’s combat evaluation is straightforward. There will be multiple different dummies with various different abilities. Your job is to neutralize them all as fast as you can. Your completion time will determine your placement.”
A student raised their hand. “Sir, what if two people finish at the same time?”
“If two people finish within the same second, then they will duel for their position. Suppose Kuro and Reo both finish with a recorded time of twenty-three seconds. If that places them in contention for seventeenth, they will duel. The winner receives seventeenth place. The loser receives eighteenth."
“The assessment will be held in the main arena, the same place it was held for the past 2 years. If there are no further questions…”
“Good. Get some rest tonight. You’ll need it. Dismissed.”
The dismissal bell rang through the classroom. Almost immediately, chairs scraped against the floor as students began gathering their belongings. Conversations resumed throughout the room. Some students were already debating which enchantments they would use tomorrow. Others were discussing strategy. Ren quietly slipped his bookmark into place before placing his book inside of his bag. Tomorrow would come regardless. There was no point in worrying about it.
Outside, the afternoon sun had already begun sinking towards the horizon. Students poured from every building, heading towards the dormitories in small groups. Ren had barely taken a dozen steps before he heard familiar footsteps approaching from behind.
“Ren!” He glanced over his shoulder.
Tsumugi caught up first. A moment later, another girl with shoulder length blonde hair fell into step beside her.
“So…” Amaya said with a grin. “You two got separated.”
Tsumugi folded her arms. “I know. But at least I’m in class with you, Amaya.”
“I think it’s a good thing. That you’re separated,” Amaya said, trying not to laugh.
Tsumugi blinked. “What?”
“If you two ended up in the same class, you would spend the entire year together. I’d lose my best friend…” She said, dramatically.
Tsumugi stared at her. “That’s your concern?”
“It should be yours too.”
“I talk to you every day.”
“For now.” Amaya dramatically placed a hand over her heart. “But then Ren would start stealing all of your attention.”
Tsumugi laughed. “You know that would never happen. I’d be lost without you.”
Ren looked between them. “I fail to understand how I became a part of this conversation.”
“See? He’s already pretending like he doesn’t know what’s happening.”
“I genuinely don’t.”
Both girls laughed. They continued walking beneath the cherry blossoms, their conversation drifting towards the upcoming qualification assessment. The academy slowly disappeared as the three students slowly made their way towards the dormitories.
Tomorrow… third year would truly begin.
Chapter 2
Darkness. It wasn’t the empty, peaceful darkness that filled a room when the lights were turned off. It was thick. Suffocating. It pressed against the skin like a physical weight, carrying the smell of smoke and flames.
Then came the heat. A sudden, violent wave of blistering air that scorched the back of his throat with every ragged breath.
A child was kneeling across the shattered pavement. His hands were small, his fingers blackened with soot, trembling so violently that he could barely clutch the ground. Tears flowed in streams down from his cheeks, falling onto the ground. Someone was screaming. It was a raw, desperate cry for help cutting through the roaring sound of collapsing timber.
Figures moved through the haze, their silhouettes warped by the rising thermal currents. They didn’t look human. They seemed like towering, fractured shadows stretching across the debris.
“Over here! Call an emergency unit, now!” The voice was muffled, as if traveling through the water. Another voice, much closer and clear this time, filled with panic. “Any identification? A name? Anything?”
“Nothing. It’s like he didn’t exist before the fire.”
“Poor kid. Who knows what happened to him out there?”
The panicked murmurs of the strangers began to fade, dissolving beneath the endless crackle of burning timber. The heat of the flames vanished, replaced by an absolute, freezing draft flowing into his left ear.
“Pathetic.” The voice was cold. Unforgiving. It didn’t belong to the rescuers, and it didn’t belong to the chaos. It belonged to the darkness.
The child curled into himself tighter, hiding his face behind his soot-stained palms. He cried into them loudly, but the noise was drowned out by the cold voice. It didn’t just echo, it resonated inside of his head.
“You couldn’t save anyone if you wanted to.”
The ground beneath him shattered and broke away, the boy falling into an endless void. Even so, the voice followed.
“You’re weak. You always will be. A failure.”
A shadow loomed over him, blocking the last remaining embers of light.
“Look at you. You’re still the exact same kid you were nine years ago.”
The boy closed his ears, only for the voice to grow louder.
“Die. You serve no purpose.”
A hand reached out from the void, moving towards his leg. Not to comfort him, but to pull him further into the void. It approached closer, its fingers wrapping around his ankle.
Ren’s eyes snapped open. His body jolted upright before he even realized he was awake. He stared into his own hands. They were clean. Free of soot. No blood. No ash. He slowly unclenched his fists. Small crescent marks remained where his fingernails had dug into his palms. The fire disappeared, but the voice didn’t. The voice never left, for that matter.
Ren instinctively wiped his own cheeks, just to find that they were completely dry.
He got out of his bed to take a look at the alarm clock set on his nightstand. Silence filled the room, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock mounted above his desk. 5:42 am. Earlier than usual. Now that he had woken up, sleep was out of the question. Ren folded his blanket neatly and tucked it away before changing into a black training shirt.
The nightmare was over. His schedule was not.