In the circular hall of the Grand Council, the atmosphere was electric. The Council Elder—a man whose white beard seemed to have absorbed centuries of dust from ancient grimoires—stared at Kaelen's report in heavy silence. Around him, the debates raged on.
"We must eliminate him!" barked a mage dressed in crimson robes. "If he is the cause of the massacre in the desert, he is a ticking time bomb!"
"Or a double-edged sword," a woman countered from his right. "Imagine such power at the service of our armies. We could end the border wars in a single week."
The Elder raised a hand to demand silence. He looked down at the boy, who waited in the center of the hall with his head bowed. "Since he has no identity, he shall be recorded in our ledgers as Nameless. A hollow name for an existence that is just as void."
Suddenly, a deep, calm male voice echoed from the back of the room. "What if we stopped the guesswork and put him through a field test?"
The Royal Mage, clad in a tunic of gold and silk, appeared alongside Elara. His presence commanded instant respect. The Council, though initially reluctant, eventually conceded.
The Trial of the Void
For the next hour, the boy endured an ordeal. He was ordered to shout "Fireball." Nothing happened. He was made to read ancient incantations—basic formulas to manipulate wind or water. Still, nothing.
Driven by curiosity, Professor Kaelen stepped forward. "Take off your gloves. If those are seals, your magic should erupt without them."
The boy slowly removed the cold leather. His hands were bare, trembling. He concentrated all his will, visualizing the flame that had saved the soldiers in the desert. He cried out with all his might, but even the air did not vibrate. Without the gloves, he seemed weaker than an ordinary citizen.
"Incoherent..." Kaelen whispered, crumbling his notes. "In the desert, he acted despite the gloves. Here, without them, he is... empty. He is a complete anomaly. A failure."
Snickers and sighs of disappointment rippled through the hall. The boy felt his heart darken. He was a monster to some, and mere trash to others.
"I will take charge of him."
Elara's clear voice cut through the noise. She stepped forward, placing a protective hand on the boy's shoulder. "I will fund his education, his housing, and all his needs. He will be under my direct responsibility."
A deathly silence fell over the room. Why would a mage of her rank burden herself with a "failure"? "I have my reasons," she said simply, her blue eyes briefly meeting those of the Elder, who, strangely, remained silent.
The Royal Mage then approached, his shadow looming over the boy. "Very well, Elara. But before you take him to your quarters, the Crown demands its due. The King and Queen wish to see with their own eyes the boy who defies all laws of magic. Prepare him. We are leaving for the castle."