Morning light spilled across the orphanage courtyard, painting the wet cobblestones in gold.
The air shimmered with excitement.
Today was the Affinity Test Ceremony — the day when children of ten years would face the crystal of fate and learn what path the world had carved for them before their birth.
It was said that each soul was marked by the breath of creation — an echo of the elements that had shaped the first dawn. Fire for will, Water for grace, Earth for endurance, Wind for freedom, and the rarer aspects — Light, Shadow, and Void — for destinies that even the gods whispered about in fear.
Aren watched from the steps as the other children hurried about, polishing their shoes, adjusting their clothes, their laughter carrying through the air like morning bells.
They looked radiant in the sunlight, faces flushed with anticipation.
He, however, stood in silence.
His reflection in the puddle below seemed smaller than it should be — pale, quiet, almost fading into the ripples as if he didn't quite belong there.
Lena ran up to him, breathless and smiling. "Aren! Come on, they're already calling the names. We'll miss the first shuttle!"
She wore the same gray uniform as the rest, yet somehow it looked brighter on her — maybe it was her energy, maybe the way her eyes always carried hope.
Aren smiled faintly. "I'm coming."
He grabbed his satchel — a small, patched thing containing a single loaf of bread and the pendant that never left his neck — and followed her.
Outside the orphanage gates, an aerobus waited — a relic of a world that should not have survived.
Its body was shaped like a carriage of steel and glass, hovering above the ground by means of faintly glowing runes etched into its wheels.
Aren had always wondered how it worked.
The adults said it was powered by resonance stones — ancient fragments that still carried the hum of elemental Laws from the Old World. Only those with trained affinity could control them, but the machines had long been designed to run on residual energy, looping endlessly through the ages.
It was a reminder: humanity had fallen, yet some echoes of its god-touched technology still endured.
The children climbed aboard one by one, guided by Sister Mira.
Aren hesitated at the door, feeling the faint vibration beneath his feet. The air smelled faintly of metal and ozone.
As he stepped inside, the floor rippled with soft light.
The door closed, and the runes beneath the bus flared brighter.
With a low hum, the aerobus lifted into the air.
The world fell away beneath them — rooftops shrinking, roads turning to ribbons, rivers glinting like veins of silver.
From above, the kingdom looked peaceful. Mist filled the valleys, reflecting the rising sun like molten gold.
The children pressed their faces to the windows, gasping as the bus passed through floating bridges and between towers that shimmered with protective runes.
Aren sat near the back, his hands clasped tightly together.
Lena sat beside him, her gaze flicking toward him every now and then.
"You're quiet again," she said softly.
He shrugged. "Just thinking."
"About the test?"
"…Maybe."
She smiled. "You'll be fine. You'll see."
Her confidence was something he couldn't understand — a warmth he wished he could borrow.
After an hour's journey, the bus descended toward the Central Convergence Hall — a structure so massive it seemed to pierce the clouds themselves.
The Hall was built from blackstone and glass, a fusion of divine architecture and forgotten machinery. Its surface was etched with luminous veins that pulsed like a heartbeat.
At the summit, seven colossal statues encircled the plaza — each representing one of the Elements of Creation.
And at the center of them all floated the Affinity Crystal — a perfect sphere of transparent stone, larger than a carriage, suspended by unseen force. Within it swirled a thousand colors, forming patterns that no mortal mind could name.
This was the heart of the ceremony — the mirror of souls.
The children were led inside.
Hundreds of others were already gathered, grouped by orphanages, schools, and noble houses.
Each child was to step forward, place their hand on the crystal, and let their essence reveal its hue.
The ceremony master — an aged Conjurer in white robes — raised his staff and spoke.
"Children of the kingdom," he began, his voice echoing through the hall. "Today you will learn your place among the Laws. Do not fear what you are given — the world gives what it deems necessary."
His words carried the weight of ritual — something ancient, older than the kingdom itself.
The ceremony began.
One by one, children approached the crystal.
The first, a nervous boy, pressed his hand against it. The sphere glowed with faint red veins.
"Faint Affinity — Fire," the old man announced. "Essence purity: Stained."
Applause filled the room.
Another child stepped forward. The glow this time was soft green.
"Common Affinity — Wind. Essence purity: Refined."
More applause.
The rhythm continued — child after child, color after color. Each revelation was greeted by cheers, gasps, sometimes tears.
When Lena's turn came, the air grew strangely still.
She looked calm, almost serene, as she placed her hand on the crystal.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the hall filled with mist — pale silver fog rising from the ground, wrapping around her like silk.
The crystal flared brilliantly, glowing with deep violet light, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Gasps echoed through the chamber.
"True Affinity — Mist," the master proclaimed, his voice awed. "Essence purity: Sacred."
The crowd erupted. Even the instructors exchanged astonished looks.
True Affinity was rare — the mark of one destined for greatness.
Lena turned, searching the crowd, her eyes meeting Aren's. She smiled shyly.
He tried to smile back, but something inside him ached — not jealousy, not sadness, but a hollow pain he couldn't name.
Then his name was called.
Aren stepped forward.
The noise of the crowd dimmed, as if swallowed by silence.
He reached out and placed his hand on the crystal.
It was cold — unnaturally cold — and for a heartbeat, he thought he felt something move inside it, like the pulse of a sleeping beast.
He waited.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Nothing.
No glow.
No hum.
No resonance.
The crystal remained perfectly clear — like he wasn't even there.
The master frowned and waved his staff. The runes around the platform flared to verify the link.
Still nothing.
Whispers spread through the crowd.
"Did it break?"
"No, look—it's fine for everyone else."
"Maybe he's… empty."
The last word hit harder than it should have.
The old man finally sighed. "No response. The child shows no Affinity."
A murmur swept through the hall — disbelief, pity, disdain.
Lena's face went pale.
Aren stepped back, heart pounding, though he didn't know why.
Inside his chest, something stirred — a deep, slow thrum, like the echo of thunder beneath the ocean. But no one could hear it.
Not yet.
The ceremony continued without him.
He returned to his seat in silence, feeling the weight of every gaze that refused to look at him.
Lena tried to whisper something — words of comfort maybe — but he didn't hear them.
All he could hear was the quiet inside his head.
The same silence that had followed him since the day he was born.
When the ceremony ended, the children were divided — those with Affinity were escorted to testing academies and guilds, while the others were sent back home.
Aren stood among the latter, hands clenched, his pendant warm against his chest.
He didn't understand.
He didn't even feel sad — only confused, as if the world had just refused to recognize something that should have been there.
Above, the sky darkened.
The air trembled, just slightly, as a ripple of unseen energy passed through the world.
The Conjurers nearby felt it — a flicker of pressure, faint as a sigh, yet vast in scale.
It was gone as soon as it appeared.
The masters dismissed it as a storm current.
But in that fleeting moment, every elemental stone in the city flickered once — as if something ancient had just opened its eyes.
Aren never noticed.
He only looked down at his reflection on the polished floor — a small, quiet boy with no glow, no spark, and no place in the world.
And in that reflection, for just an instant, his eyes gleamed faintly gold.
Then the light vanished, and the silence returned.