The Arkwright house held a strange quiet that afternoon—
not tense, not peaceful, but something in between, like the world was holding its breath.
Varr stood inside the doorway, boots still dusty from the road, cloak heavy with the smell of travel. His eyes went first to Cain, sharp and searching, as if measuring how much the boy had changed in two years.
"You've grown," he said. Not exaggerated praise. Just truth.
Leon crossed his arms. "Come in. You've been gone long."
Varr stepped into the living room, lowering himself into a chair with a weary exhale. "The Royal Magic Academy has announced its entrance examinations for the coming season." He pulled a sealed slip from his cloak, tied with a provincial ribbon. "With your consent, Cain may present himself for the trials. My recommendation is attached."
Seraphina hesitated before taking the slip. Her hands trembled just slightly. "The academy… already?"
"It is time," Leon said quietly.
Cain didn't react outwardly. But something inside him shifted—
a small pivot, as if the line of his life had turned onto a new path.
Varr continued, "The academy does not evaluate children based on marks. That law was enforced decades ago. Their tests focus on discipline, physical basics, and mana stability. Nothing dramatic. Nothing that should cause concern."
Seraphina let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
Cain simply listened.
He remembered the priest's words earlier in the year.
His wall. His limitation.
But the academy wasn't searching for divine potential.
It was searching for *capable children.*
And Cain was nothing if not capable.
Varr leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "We leave at dawn. The capital is two days by carriage, maybe less if weather stays clear. I suggest packing lightly."
Before anyone could respond—
A small gasp hit the doorway.
Aera stood there, clutching a basket of washed mint and feverleaf. Her eyes widened when she realized everyone was staring at her.
"O-Oh—I'm sorry," she said, bowing quickly. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I came to give Seraphina more herbs for the clinic."
Her gaze drifted to Cain.
"What… what were you talking about?"
Seraphina opened her mouth, but Varr answered gently.
"Cain will be leaving tomorrow morning," he said. "He's been invited to take the Royal Academy entrance exam."
Aera's hands loosened.
The basket nearly slipped.
She looked at Cain, frightened—not of him, but of the idea of him disappearing.
"Is that… true?"
Cain gave a small nod.
Aera blinked hard. "But… that means… you'll be gone for years…"
She didn't finish the sentence. The basket tipped, herbs spilling softly across the floor.
Seraphina knelt to gather the fallen leaves, but Aera didn't move. She stood frozen, eyes glistening—not from dramatic tears, but from the kind of emotion a child doesn't yet know how to express.
Varr stepped closer, voice gentle. "Aera… don't fear this. You'll be going to the academy eventually as well."
"M-Me?" she whispered.
"Yes," Varr said. "You're a healer candidate. You will go under the Healer's Guild recommendation when you're old enough. Not with Cain, but on the same path."
Aera looked unsure. "But… that's years later…"
She stepped toward Cain.
"I… I didn't think you'd leave so soon."
Cain didn't know how to answer. He wasn't used to holding anyone's emotions.
But he held her gaze.
"It won't be forever," he said simply.
Aera swallowed hard and nodded, but her voice trembled when she said, "Okay."
Varr clapped his hands once. "Enough worry. Let the boy prepare. Tomorrow is an important day."
He left shortly after, giving final instructions about the journey, leaving the slip of recommendation on the table.
Seraphina picked it up, tracing the seal with her finger.
Leon placed a hand on her shoulder. "He'll be fine."
Her lips thinned into a small, strained smile. "I know."
---
Night settled over Greyridge, stretching shadows long across the wooden floors.
Cain packed neatly: one change of clothes, a small knife Leon gave him years ago, a mana practice stone Seraphina insisted he take, and a folded cloth Aera had dropped earlier with the herbs.
It still smelled faintly of mint.
Leon entered the room quietly. "You ready?"
"Yes."
Leon studied him. "At the academy… observe more than you speak. Stay aware. Understand people before you trust them."
Cain nodded.
"And," Leon added, voice softer, "write to us. Every month."
"I will."
Leon placed a firm hand on Cain's head—a gesture he rarely used.
A warrior's blessing.
A father's fear disguised as pride.
---
Morning came cool and pale.
The Arkwright home gathered silently at the gate.
Seraphina adjusted Cain's cloak three times before accepting that it already fit perfectly. Her fingers lingered at his collarbone, unable to pull away.
Leon stood beside her, arms crossed, face unreadable but eyes heavy.
Aera was already there.
She had arrived before sunrise, sitting on the low stone wall like someone guarding a treasure. When Cain stepped out of the house with Varr, she jumped to her feet.
Her eyes widened when she saw the travel carriage waiting at the road.
"You're… really leaving."
Cain nodded once.
Aera opened her mouth—but instead of words, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.
No hesitation.
No shame.
Just a child unwilling to let go too quickly.
Cain stood still for a moment—then let the gesture exist, accepting it without awkwardness or distance.
Aera pulled back, wiping her eyes quickly as if hiding the evidence.
Varr approached the carriage. "Come, Cain. The capital will not wait for us."
Cain walked toward the carriage steps.
The moment he placed a foot on the first step, he turned back—
just once.
The image framed itself like a memory carved in stone:
Leon stood with arms crossed, unmoving like a guard post.
Seraphina smiled softly, though her eyes shimmered.
And Aera—
Aera waved both arms wildly, her small figure almost hopping in place.
Cain's chest shifted—not painfully, but noticeably.
He lifted his hand a little.
Not a wave.
Just a subtle acknowledgment.
Enough for Aera to brighten instantly.
He entered the carriage.
Varr closed the door behind him.
The wheels creaked, horses snorted, and the carriage rolled forward, leaving the familiar fences of Greyridge behind.
As the town faded into the morning haze, Varr settled beside Cain.
"You'll do fine," the priest said. "The academy exams are simple. They don't care about power. They care about discipline. Calmness. Control. They watch how you breathe, how you move, how you react when others panic. That is the measure of their future mages and knights."
Cain looked out the window.
Calmness.
Control.
Discipline.
These were the things he already carried.
The world beyond Greyridge stretched wide and unknown.
Cain didn't fear it.
He simply prepared to walk into it.
---