Elara traced the intricate patterns on her palm, the aged lines a mirror of the ancient magic that flowed within her. She was a prodigy, a word whispered in hushed tones whenever her name arose within her family. Spells that took her cousins months to master she'd grasp in hours, her innate connection to the ethereal currents of magic an almost frightening phenomenon. She had already mastered all spells an apprentice mage should, effortlessly weaving complex enchantments that surprised even the elders. Her family, known throughout the bustling city of Veridian for their unparalleled magical prowess and centuries of lineage, carried their pride with an almost palpable aura, as no other family in the city was as strong and powerful as them.
The city of Veridian bustled with excitement. The upcoming Passage of Rites was an ancient ceremony marking the transition from apprentice to full-fledged mage in Elara's family. This year, like every other, the Rite would be held deep within the Whispering Ruins, a place both revered and feared where ancient energies still pulsed. Powerful magical spirits were said to reside there, and Elara would have to navigate immense danger to contract one to pass the Rite. While the exact number of fatalities was unknown, it was whispered throughout the city that many had failed, even those deemed promising. Some returned with their minds fractured; others simply vanished. The Whispering Ruins was a place of great danger and great returns. If she succeeded, the Rite would mark her first real step in becoming a true mage.
These thoughts swirled in Elara's mind as she conjured fireballs, spinning them, changing their shape to look more like arrows, and shooting them at targets. She was practicing relentlessly, driven by the rapidly approaching Passage of Rites. Sweat plastered her hair to her forehead; she'd been at it for hours, pushing herself to the utmost. Yet, despite the intense personal preparation, no one in her family seemed to be paying her any attention. The Rite wasn't discussed with the same fervent hype within her household as it was in the bustling city streets.
She kept training, pushing herself until her body screamed in protest, until every drop of mana was expended, leaving her unable to cast another spell. Exhausted, she laid down at the foot of a valley, staring up at a towering structure that seemed to pierce the clouds. She listened to the distant voices of people passing by, likely gossiping about her, given her renown in the city. Elara cherished this small pocket of peace, knowing it wouldn't last. In the coming days, her training would intensify. The best way to adapt for the Whispering Ruins, she decided, was to hunt beasts, apprehend robbers, and camp deep in the wild forest. It was a far cry from the true challenge, but it was all she could do for now to ready herself for the profound trials ahead. With the day beginning to get dark she forced herself up and headed back.