The student stepped forward, weaving his way through the scattered rows of chairs until he stood in the open space at the center of the hall where the teachers were gathered. His posture was stiff, but there was a trace of excitement in the way his eyes darted between the instructors and the strange, three-colored globe sitting on the pedestal.
Miss Flecine, who will be overseeing the test all morning, looked at him with her composed expression. Her voice was calm and instructional when she spoke.
"Prick your finger with one of the needles," she said, gesturing toward a small tray to her right, "and let a single drop of blood fall onto the globe."
The boy gave a firm nod and picked up a needle, gripping it with careful fingers. With a small wince, he pricked the side of his finger. A bead of crimson welled up almost instantly. Holding his hand over the globe, he let the droplet fall.
The moment it touched the surface, the red portion of the globe glowed to life. Its light was vivid, bright enough to stand out even under the lanterns lining the hall. The globe itself was divided into three distinct sections — white for the Fae, red for witches, and black for the wolves — and the red now shone with an intensity like the warm glare of a newly lit bulb.
Miss Flecine studied the light for a moment, then gave a satisfied nod. "Good," she said. "You are a witch with medium potential. That's a fine result."
The student broke into a smile at her words, the pride clear on his face. He started to place the needle back on the tray, but Miss Flecine raised a hand.
"Keep it with you," she instructed.
Again, he nodded, slipping the needle into his pocket before returning to his seat.
Aiden had been watching the exchange with keen interest. The brightness of the globe had caught his attention — it was striking, yet this was only a medium-potential result. That left him wondering: just how dazzling would the light be for someone with high potential?
He didn't have to wonder for long.
The tests continued, one student at a time. Names were called, fingers were pricked, and drops of blood vanished into the surface of the globe as though the globe itself swallowed them whole. One after another, Miss Flecine calmly announced the results.
After about half of the students had gone through the process, Aiden began to notice a trend. Medium-potential results were rare — only five students so far, with the majority falling into the low-potential category. The realization made him glance once more at the boy who had just been tested, thinking that perhaps a medium potential wasn't as ordinary as it first seemed.
Eventually, the crowd in the hall thinned. Less than thirty students remained. The next name was called, and a tall boy stepped forward. His expression was unreadable as he took a needle from the tray and pricked his finger without hesitation. A drop of blood slid from his fingertip onto the globe.
As usual, the surface absorbed it instantly, leaving no trace. Then the globe flared to life.
The light burst forth with such force that Aiden's eyes nearly shut on instinct. It was brilliant, almost painful to look at — like staring into sunlight reflected on polished metal. Forcing his eyes open, he focused on the section of the globe that was shining.
It was the black portion.
Aiden's pulse quickened. That meant the boy was a werewolf. And not just any werewolf — the sheer brightness of the light left little doubt that this was a high-potential reading.
Miss Flecine stepped forward to make her usual announcement, but before she could speak, Mr. Gareth — the werewolf instructor who had been silent the entire morning — surged forward. His enthusiasm was almost comical as he moved to stand directly in front of the student, his broad grin showing more teeth than necessary.
"Good," he said, nodding approvingly. "Good. You're very good."
Miss Flecine gave him a sharp look. "Mr. Gareth," she said, her tone half exasperated, half amused, "will you let me do my job, or are you planning to stand here repeating 'good' over and over?"
Realizing how much he had interrupted, Mr. Gareth chuckled and stepped aside, though he couldn't resist throwing the student one last smile before moving out of the way.
Miss Flecine returned her attention to the boy. "Wonderful," she said. "You are a wolf with high potential. I hope you'll put that potential to good use during your time at this school, and learn how to best optimize your abilities."
"Thank you, Miss Flecine," the boy replied politely, though there was a faint trace of smugness in his voice.
He turned to walk back to his seat, and Aiden caught the way Mr. Gareth's eyes followed him all the way across the hall, still brimming with pride. The boy's composure lasted until he reached his desk. Then, just before sitting, he twisted slightly toward a Fae girl sitting nearby and pulled a face — half playful, half showing off. It was an expression that clearly said, See? Look how great I am.
The girl didn't even glance at him. She kept her eyes on her desk, entirely unmoved.
The boy froze for a fraction of a second, his mouth twitching in what might have been embarrassment, then lowered himself into his chair without another word.