The testing ground lay at the very heart of the village, where the earth flattened into a wide stone circle worn smooth by generations of feet. Tall poles ringed the space, each bearing the flags of outer realms—silk banners painted with sigils of flame, waves, storms, and stars. They fluttered in the sea breeze like restless spirits eager to witness fate unfold.
Children stood in a wide ring around the crystal spire at the center, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Some whispered prayers. Others clenched their fists, trying to look brave. Parents hovered just beyond the boundary stones, pretending not to watch while watching everything.
One by one, names were called.
A boy stepped forward. Fire flared bright red in the crystal. Applause followed.
A girl placed her hand down, and water shimmered softly, blue light rippling like a pond disturbed by rain.
Another child touched the spire—and nothing happened. He blinked, confused, then stepped back. His mother wrapped him in a hug immediately. The villagers offered gentle claps anyway. Here, failure wasn't shameful. It was simply part of the path.
Silas leaned toward Euryale, eyes wide."If I get fire, I'm gonna roast my socks so they're always warm."
"You'll burn the house down," Euryale muttered.
Lyra gasped. "I want water! Then I can make fish follow me!"
Silas snorted. "You can barely follow your own feet."
"I can too!"
Then the judge's voice rang out again.
"Euryale of the Shoreward Vale."
The air shifted.
Euryale stepped forward, the stone cool beneath his bare feet. The murmurs faded until all he could hear was the distant crash of waves and the steady beat of his own heart.
He placed his palm against the crystal spire.
For a breath—nothing.
Then the crystal answered.
A low, resonant tone filled the air, deeper than any before. The surface of the spire cleared, revealing a Mana Core forming within.
It was not black.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
The core glowed white—not blinding, not radiant, but calm. Perfect. Like moonlight reflected on still water. No impurities. No haze. Just clarity.
Silence fell hard.
Then—water bloomed.
A single affinity unfurled around the core, blue and fluid, gentle but endless. The crystal filled with the image of tides rolling in slow, eternal rhythm. No other elements followed. No fire. No wind.
Just water.
And the white core holding it.
The judges stared.
Someone whispered, "That's not possible."
Another murmured, "White cores are myths."
Silas grabbed Lyra's arm. "Lyra. LYRA. IT'S SHINY."
Lyra whispered back, awed, "It's… quiet."
Among the judges, Master Velin of the Celestial Dominion stepped forward, his robe stitched with constellations that subtly shifted as he moved. His expression was no longer neutral.
It was grave.
He leaned toward his aide, Kaelen, voice barely audible.
"A White Core at awakening," Velin said. "No stages. No impurities."
Kaelen swallowed. "But only one affinity?"
Velin nodded slowly. "Pure water. The most dangerous kind."
The crystal dimmed.
The tone faded.
Euryale stepped back, his hand tingling, his chest tight—as if something ancient had settled into place without asking permission.
Silas exploded into motion.
"YOU'RE GLOWY!" he shouted. "YOU'RE LIKE—LIKE A FISH GOD!"
"I am not," Euryale said faintly. "I think I just… touched it wrong."
Lyra tugged his sleeve. "Does this mean you can make baths warmer?"
"I hope so," he said. "For Ma."
Xena didn't laugh. She crossed the distance in two steps and pulled him into her arms, holding him tight.
"My boy," she whispered, pressing her cheek to his hair.
Later, by the hearth, the fire crackled softly. Lyra had fallen asleep in Xena's lap. Silas paced like he was afraid to sit.
"A white core," Silas said for the tenth time. "That's like… end-of-story magic."
Salah stirred the pot calmly. "And yet, tomorrow he still helps mend nets."
Euryale hesitated. "Pa… Ma… does this change things?"
Xena met his eyes, steady and warm. "It means the world will look at you differently."
Salah nodded. "But it doesn't change who you are here."
Euryale felt something loosen in his chest.
Outside, the tide rolled in, steady and eternal.
Water had always known him.
And now—
So had the world.