[The Grand Academy - Morning, Two Days Later]
The story of Marcus von Haltren's failed summoning had spread through the Academy like wildfire. Students whispered in corridors, embellishing details with each retelling. Some said the Chaos Spirit had been ten feet tall with wings of pure darkness. Others claimed Aldric had spoken a single word and the spirit had exploded into nothingness. The truth was dramatic enough, but rumors always grew in the telling.
Marcus himself had withdrawn from classes, claiming illness. His pride had been shattered more thoroughly than any spell could manage. The boy who had been so confident in his Third Circle status now understood how vast the gap between power levels truly was.
Aldric sat in the Academy library, a massive hall with shelves that reached three stories high and floating books that delivered themselves to readers upon request. He was genuinely reading, not because He needed to learn but because He wanted to see how humans explained magic to each other. Their theories were often wrong but always interesting. They tried so hard to understand the Weave using mathematics and philosophy, never realizing it was simply His will made tangible.
"Excuse me."
He looked up from His book on elemental theory. The elf Sylvaen stood before Him, her violet eyes studying Him with an intensity that bordered on rude. Her companion, a male elf with silver hair tied in an intricate braid, stood slightly behind her.
"May I help you?" Aldric asked politely.
"We need to speak with you," Sylvaen said, her melodious voice carrying an edge of command. "Somewhere private. What you did two days ago has raised questions that require answers."
Aldric closed His book, marked His place with a ribbon, and stood. "Very well. Lead the way."
They walked to a small study room on the library's upper floor, a space enclosed by enchanted walls that prevented sound from escaping. Once inside, Sylvaen waved her hand and additional privacy wards shimmered into place. She was clearly skilled, her magic flowing with the effortless grace characteristic of her people.
The male elf spoke for the first time, his voice carrying the weight of age despite his youthful appearance. "I am Atheris Silverwind, and this is Sylvaen Moonwhisper. We are not merely students. We are observers sent by the Elven Ascendants to monitor the Academy and this new Spirit Summoning phenomenon."
"Observers," Aldric repeated, sensing there was more to that title than they were saying.
Sylvaen crossed her arms. "The Elven Ascendants are the highest authority among our people. They have lived for over two thousand years, reached the pinnacle of magical mastery, and can perceive things that shorter-lived races cannot. When Spirit Summoning appeared three days ago, they sent us to investigate its origins and implications."
"And what does this have to do with me?" Aldric asked, though He knew perfectly well.
Atheris stepped closer, his sharp eyes examining Aldric as if he were a puzzle to be solved. "You arrived at the Academy the same day Spirit Summoning manifested. You possess power that defies measurement. You commanded a Fifth Circle equivalent Chaos Spirit with nothing more than a glance. These coincidences trouble us."
"The world is full of coincidences," Aldric said calmly.
"Not like this," Sylvaen said sharply. "We elves live for centuries. We have seen patterns in history that humans miss due to their brief lifespans. When something unprecedented occurs, we look for the cause. You are an anomaly, Aldric. No family name. No history anyone can trace. Power that exceeds rational explanation. You appear from nowhere just as the fabric of magic itself changes."
She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. "What are you? Are you connected to the divine somehow? Are you an agent of the gods sent to observe mortal response to this new gift?"
Aldric almost smiled at how close and yet how far they were from the truth. They were looking in the right direction but their assumptions were still bounded by mortal understanding. The idea that the Supreme itself might walk among them was so far beyond their conception that they reached for the next most logical explanation.
"I am simply a student," He said, which was technically true from a certain perspective. "I came to learn magic, to experience the Academy, to understand how people grow and develop their abilities."
"Liar," Sylvaen said flatly. "No one with your power needs to attend an academy. You could be teaching the professors, not learning from them."
"Knowledge and power are not the same thing," Aldric replied. "I may have power, but that doesn't mean I understand how others experience magic, how they teach it, how they learn to apply it creatively. That's what I'm here to discover."
Atheris and Sylvaen exchanged glances, communicating something in the subtle way of long-lived beings who could convey volumes with a look.
"The Ascendants will want to meet you," Atheris said finally. "A delegation from the Floating Citadel of Silvermere arrives tomorrow. They are coming officially to discuss Spirit Summoning with Academy leadership, but they will also want to speak with you personally."
"I look forward to it," Aldric said genuinely. He was curious to see how His beloved elves, who He had crafted to be wise and long-lived, would react to Him. They were perceptive, these elves, more so than most races. That was intentional in His design. But even their enhanced senses would not pierce the veil He had drawn over His true nature.
Sylvaen studied Him for another long moment, frustration evident in her features. "You're hiding something. I can feel it. There's something about you that doesn't add up, something my instincts scream is important, but I cannot identify what it is."
"Perhaps you're overthinking," Aldric suggested gently. "Sometimes the simplest explanation is the correct one. I'm a powerful mage who wants to study. Nothing more, nothing less."
"We shall see," she said coldly. "The Ascendants have ways of perceiving truth that go beyond simple magical examination. If you harbor secrets, they will find them."
They left, their robes swishing behind them with elegant finality. Aldric sat back down and reopened His book, genuinely unbothered. Let them investigate. Let them bring their Ascendants and their ancient wisdom. They would find what He allowed them to find, and no more.
[Meanwhile - The Divine Realms, Hall of Radiance]
Saint Celestria stood before the Assembly of Saints, a gathering of the most powerful ascended mortals in existence. Fifty beings filled the hall, each one having transcended mortality through faith, power, or divine blessing. Some had been human. Others had been elves, dwarves, even dragons who had achieved enlightenment. They existed in the lower divine realms, beings of immense power who served as intermediaries between mortals and true gods.
"Something is wrong," Celestria said, her voice carrying through the crystalline chamber. "I know I'm not the only one who feels it. Ever since the Supreme bestowed Spirit Summoning upon the world, there has been a sense of unease I cannot explain."
An ancient Saint named Arcturus, who had once been a legendary human warrior three thousand years ago, nodded slowly. "I have felt it as well. A wrongness in the pattern. Not evil, precisely, but anomalous."
"The Supreme acted directly," another Saint said, a former elf sorceress named Lytherial. "We all received the dream, felt the message. This is undoubtedly the Creator's work."
"Yes," Celestria agreed. "But the Supreme has granted gifts before without this sense of displacement. Remember when humans were first given the Spark five thousand years ago? That felt different. This time, something about the implementation feels closer, more immediate, as if the Supreme did not simply will it from beyond but actually reached into our reality to structure it."
Angel Commander Azrael entered the hall, his six wings folded behind him. Angels rarely attended Saint assemblies, as they operated on different authority structures, but he had come specifically for this discussion. "The Angelic Host has noticed irregularities as well. Three days ago, we detected a surge of power from the mortal realm, specifically from the human kingdom of Astoria. The signature was unusual, unlike any mortal magic we have recorded."
"Could it be a new Transcendent?" someone suggested. "An Eighth Circle mage awakening?"
"The power reading was too intense even for that," Azrael said carefully. "It registered at levels that should only be possible for divine beings. For a moment, my instruments thought they were detecting a god walking the mortal plane, which is of course impossible. Gods do not incarnate in physical forms."
"Unless they're concealing themselves," Arcturus said thoughtfully.
The room fell silent at that suggestion.
"Why would a god hide in mortal form?" Lytherial asked. "They have no reason to. If a god wished to walk among mortals, they would simply do so openly. They're gods. They answer to no one except the Supreme."
"True," Celestria admitted. "But I cannot shake this feeling. Something has changed. Something fundamental. And I believe it's connected to that power surge Azrael detected."
"We should investigate," Arcturus suggested. "Send observers to Astoria. Quietly examine what occurred three days ago. If there is a threat or an anomaly we need to understand it."
"Or," Azrael said slowly, "we could pray to the Supreme directly and ask for guidance."
Everyone considered this. Prayer to the Supreme was always an option, but the Creator rarely answered direct queries. The Supreme had established systems, hierarchies, laws that governed reality. Direct intervention was reserved for cosmic-level threats or matters of ultimate importance. For a handful of Saints and an Angel to petition the Supreme over a feeling of unease seemed presumptuous.
"We investigate first," Celestria decided. "If we find something truly alarming, then we escalate to prayer. We don't want to bother the Supreme with paranoia."
The assembly agreed. They would send discrete observers to the mortal realm, specifically to Astoria and the Grand Academy where the power surge had originated. They would watch, question, and determine if there was a genuine concern or if they were simply unsettled by the rapid change Spirit Summoning had brought to magical society.
None of them considered the possibility that the Supreme itself might be the source of the anomaly they sensed. That thought was too radical, too impossible to even voice.
[The Grand Academy - Dining Hall, Evening]
Aldric sat with Sera at a long wooden table, eating a surprisingly good stew. The Academy employed skilled cooks who used minor magical preservation and heating spells to keep food fresh and warm. Around them, hundreds of students from all years and races filled the hall with conversation and laughter.
"You've caused quite a stir," Sera said, keeping her voice low. "Everyone's talking about you. The professors are divided on whether you're a genius prodigy or something more unusual. And now I hear the elves are suspicious of you."
"So I've been told," Aldric said, tearing a piece of bread. The simple act of eating was fascinating to Him. Taste, texture, the body's satisfaction at receiving nourishment. He didn't need food, but He enjoyed the experience of it.
"Doesn't that worry you?" Sera asked. "Elves don't let things go. If they think you're hiding something, they'll dig until they find it."
"Let them dig," He said with a slight smile. "They won't find anything I don't want them to find."
Sera stared at Him. "You're way too calm about this. Most people would be nervous about being investigated by Elven Ascendants. Those beings are older than most kingdoms. They can see through lies, detect magical disguises, even peer into people's souls with the right rituals."
"Sounds invasive," Aldric commented mildly.
"It is, but they only do it when they believe something threatens the balance of the world. The elves take their role as eternal guardians very seriously. They think their long lives give them the wisdom and responsibility to oversee magical developments."
"And do they have that wisdom?" He asked, genuinely curious about her perspective.
Sera thought about it. "I don't know. They've prevented some disasters, from what history tells us. Stopped rogue mages from summoning demons, intervened when dragon warlords got too ambitious, things like that. But they can also be arrogant. They assume they know better than everyone else because they've lived longer. It irritates the other races, especially humans."
"Why especially humans?"
"Because humans are the newest dominant race," she explained. "Elves, dragons, even dwarves all had their ages of empire before humans built civilization. Now humans rule most of the world, and the elves resent it. They think we're reckless children playing with power we don't understand."
"Are they wrong?" Aldric asked.
Sera laughed. "Sometimes no, they're not wrong. Humans do tend to rush into things. But we also innovate faster than any other race. We take risks the elves would never take. That's how we've accomplished so much in a fraction of their lifespans."
He listened to her with genuine interest. This was exactly why He had come in mortal form. To hear these perspectives, to understand the tensions between His creations, to see how they viewed each other and themselves. Reading minds would have given Him facts, but this conversation gave Him context, emotion, the human element that data could never capture.
A commotion at the entrance drew everyone's attention. A group of figures entered the dining hall, and the entire room fell silent. They wore flowing robes of silver and blue, and they moved with a grace that made even the elf students look clumsy by comparison. Their faces were ageless, beautiful in an otherworldly way that was almost unsettling. Power radiated from them like heat from a forge.
"Elven Ascendants," Sera whispered, her voice awed. "They're here a day early."
There were five of them, led by a female elf with hair like spun moonlight and eyes that held the depths of centuries. She surveyed the dining hall with a gaze that seemed to see through flesh and bone to the essence beneath. Her companions fanned out behind her, each one radiating authority and ancient power.
Headmaster Alduin rushed into the hall, clearly flustered. "Lady Aelindra, we were not expecting you until tomorrow. Had we known you would arrive tonight, we would have prepared a proper reception."
The lead Ascendant, Aelindra, smiled with the patience of someone who had outlived empires. "We decided to arrive early, Headmaster. We wished to observe the Academy in its natural state before official ceremonies constrain everyone's behavior. I hope you don't mind the intrusion."
"Of course not, of course not," Alduin stammered. A Fifth Circle Archmage, one of the most powerful humans alive, reduced to nervous courtesy before these ancient beings. "Please, allow me to arrange quarters for you and your companions."
"That would be appreciated," Aelindra said. Then her eyes swept the room again, and this time they stopped. Locked onto Aldric. She tilted her head slightly, and something like recognition flickered across her features, though recognition of what, even she couldn't say.
She walked toward His table, her companions following. Every student in the hall watched with held breath as the Elven Ascendant approached the mysterious new student everyone had been gossiping about.
"You must be Aldric," Aelindra said, her voice like wind through ancient trees. "I have heard interesting things about you. Power that exceeds measurement. Authority over spirits that should not be possible for one so young. You are either the greatest prodigy in a millennium, or you are something else entirely."
Aldric stood politely, meeting her gaze without flinching. "I am a student, Lady Aelindra. Nothing more, nothing less."
She studied Him for a long moment, her ancient eyes searching. "You know who I am without being told. Interesting. You carry yourself with the calm of someone who has no reason to fear, even in the presence of beings who have lived for over two thousand years. Also interesting."
"Should I be afraid?" He asked gently.
"Most mortals are," she said. "Even powerful ones. The weight of our years, the depth of our power, it unnerves people. Yet you stand before me as if we are equals, which is impossible. No mortal student could be my equal. So what are you?"
"Curious," Aldric said with a slight smile. "I am someone who is curious about the world, about magic, about how people learn and grow. That curiosity brought me here."
Aelindra's expression remained unreadable. "Tomorrow, after our official meetings with Academy leadership, you and I will speak privately. I have questions that require answers, and I will not accept deflection or half-truths. You may be able to fool younger beings, but I have lived through ages of lies and truth. I will know which you speak."
"I look forward to our conversation," He said, and He genuinely meant it.
She turned and walked away, her companions following. The dining hall remained silent until they left, then erupted into frantic whispers.
Sera grabbed Aldric's arm. "Are you insane? You just stood there like you were chatting with a fellow student, not an Ascendant who could level this building with a thought. She could see through disguises, detect any magical concealment, maybe even read surface thoughts if she wanted to."
"Then it's fortunate I have nothing to hide," Aldric said calmly, sitting back down to finish His stew, which had gone slightly cold.
Sera looked at Him like he was the most frustrating person she had ever met. "You're either the bravest person I've ever met, or you're completely insane, or you really are hiding something so big that even Elven Ascendants can't find it."
"Perhaps all three," He said with a smile, and returned to His meal.
Somewhere far above, in the Divine Realms, Saint Celestria felt another pulse of unease and decided that her observers needed to be dispatched immediately. Something was happening in the mortal world, something that made her instincts scream that reality itself was balanced on a knife's edge, and no one could see the blade.