Aetherion Academy stands as a beacon of unity and knowledge, its towering spires casting long shadows over the bustling city of Illumnis. But its beginnings were far humbler—rooted in desperation and the unwavering resolve of those who refused to let magic be extinguished from the world.


    Centuries ago, when a general fear of the unknown swept through kingdoms like a wildfire, those who were labeled as wizards found themselves hunted, their art branded as dangerous and unnatural. Some fled to the wilderness, others hid among common folk, and many abandoned their craft altogether. It was in this time of persecution that a small group of mages, led by the visionary Arvian Aetherion, sought to create a sanctuary.


    The academy was born in secrecy, nestled in an unassuming valley where magic flowed freely. Wizards from all walks of life gathered—not to hide, but to share their knowledge, to build a foundation of understanding and progress. Over time, as the academy grew, its influence spread, and it became a symbol of magic’s potential to uplift and inspire rather than destroy.


    Aetherion himself laid the founding principles of the academy:


    <ul>


    <li>Knowledge is our greatest weapon: Magic without understanding leads only to chaos.</li>


    <li>Unity in diversity: Every spell, no matter how small, adds to the greater tapestry of magical understanding.</li>


    <li>Responsibility above all: Power must always be tempered with wisdom.</li>


    </ul>


    As the persecution waned and the academy came into the public eye, it evolved into the central hub for magical education, attracting the brightest minds and boldest talents from every corner of the world. Today, Aetherion Academy stands as more than a school—it stands as a legacy.


    With its growth, Aetherion Academy became steeped in tradition, each one a reflection of the values that had guided its founders. Among the most revered of these traditions was the Entrance Examination, an event as much a test of potential as a celebration of magic itself.


    Held on the eve of the academic year, the examinations were a spectacle that drew crowds from all over Illumnis. Families, merchants, and even seasoned wizards came to witness the aspiring students’ first steps into the magical world. For many, it was more than just a test—it was a rite of passage, a declaration of one’s readiness to embrace the discipline and artistry of magic.


    At the heart of this tradition was the Trial Gate, an ancient artifact believed to be created by Arvian Aetherion himself. Standing tall at the entrance of the academy, the gate shimmered with an ethereal glow, its surface shifting like liquid silver. Each student who passed through it carried with them their crafted wand—a culmination of their skill, creativity, and determination.


    The gate judged each candidate, assigning them to one of four tiers and their respective classes, a system designed to foster growth at every level of magical expertise.


    <ul>


    <li>


    Zenith Tier: Reserved for the most exceptional candidates, these students demonstrate mastery far beyond their years. They are not only prodigies but innovators, capable of redefining the boundaries of magic. Zenith students are groomed to become leaders and pioneers, with access to the academy’s most advanced resources and mentors.


    </li>


    <li>


    Ascendant Tier: Highly skilled and promising students who show significant talent and ambition. Though not as groundbreaking as those in Zenith, Ascendants are regarded as future experts in their fields. They receive rigorous training and opportunities to push their craft to new heights.


    </li>


    <li>


    Foundation Tier: The backbone of the academy, this tier encompasses the majority of students. Foundation members show potential and competence but still require refinement and focus to excel. Their training balances fundamentals with exploration, encouraging steady growth.


    </li>


    <li>


    Ember Tier: Assigned to those whose magical abilities are underdeveloped or inconsistent, this tier is often viewed as a starting point. Ember students receive foundational instruction designed to build confidence and basic skill. While some rise to higher tiers with hard work, others may find their strengths in subtler applications of magic.


    </li>


    </ul>


    Each tier was further divided into three classes, allowing for even finer distinctions based on skill, creativity, and overall aptitude. This structure ensured that every student could receive instruction tailored to their unique potential and challenges.


    <ul>


    <li>


    Class 1: The top class within each tier, reserved for students who display exceptional mastery and creativity relative to their tier. These students are often seen as the leaders of their group, entrusted with more challenging assignments and opportunities to collaborate directly with their instructors.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    </li>


    <li>


    Class 2: The middle class, consisting of students with solid proficiency and room to grow. They are capable and consistent but lack the polish or brilliance of Class 1. Their training emphasizes refining technique and pushing boundaries to prepare them for potential advancement.


    </li>


    <li>


    Class 3: The foundational class within each tier, made up of students who are still finding their footing. These students often require more focused guidance and support to overcome specific weaknesses or develop their potential fully.


    </li>


    </ul>


    This system ensures that even within a tier, students would have the opportunity to progress, fostering a healthy sense of competition and collaboration. For some, it was a chance to shine among their peers, while for others, it was a ladder they could climb with hard work and determination.


    The process was as much an assessment of character as it was of raw talent, and no two students’ journeys through the gate were ever the same.


    Now, as the golden light of dawn bathed the academy grounds, the fervor was palpable. Students gathered in clusters, their chatter a mix of nervous anticipation and excitement. Some clutched their wands tightly, their knuckles white, while others exuded quiet confidence, their eyes fixed on the Trial Gate. Families lined the edges of the courtyard, whispering words of encouragement or gazing in awe at the spectacle unfolding before them.


    The spires of Aetherion Academy stood watch, as they had for centuries, a silent reminder of the legacy each student was about to become a part of.


    Elias stood near the back of the group as the students formed a somewhat orderly line in front of the Trial Gate. The atmosphere buzzed with nervous energy, snippets of conversation blending with the distant hum of the gate’s shimmering surface.


    Looking around, Elias noted the sheer variety of students—some tall and confident, others fidgeting with their wands or smoothing their robes. His gaze swept across the crowd until it landed on someone who stood out.


    A beautiful girl with long black hair was drawing the attention of many of the boys around her, their whispers barely concealed as they stole glances in her direction. Her stern, focused demeanor, however, made it clear that she was oblivious—or perhaps indifferent—to the attention. Her sharp gaze remained fixed on the Trial Gate, her posture poised with a quiet confidence that added an air of unapproachability.


    But Elias wasn’t admiring her beauty. His eyes locked on the slender, ethereal figure resting on her shoulder—a spirit.


    “A real spirit,” Elias gasped under his breath, his heart skipping a beat.


    He had read about spirits, their immense power, and their symbiotic relationship with certain wizards. They were rare, elusive beings, capable of enhancing magic in ways most could only dream of. But Elias’s fascination came with a bitter edge. Fire spirits—if you could even find one—lived in places far beyond his reach: scalding deserts, volcanic craters, or even the molten cores of the planet. His knowledge of spirits began and ended with the cold fact that he could never have one.


    Still, seeing one in person was exhilarating. The spirit on the girl’s shoulder seemed almost liquid in its movements, its form shimmering faintly as it leaned close to her ear. What kind of power must she possess to bond with something like that?


    Elias swallowed his envy, focusing instead on the gate ahead.


    Elsewhere, two fishermen were hauling back their latest catch, their nets heavy with the day’s work. The pair moved quickly, eager to finish up in time to catch the broadcast of Aetherion Academy’s Examinations.


    “Come on, almost there,” one of them grunted, hoisting a large sack of freshly caught fish over his shoulder. His partner nodded in agreement, the thought of settling in for the evening with the broadcast driving them forward.


    But just as they reached the dock, the first man paused abruptly, his grip slipping as the heavy sack tumbled to the ground with a wet thud.


    “Hey! What’s the deal?” his partner barked, rushing to salvage the spilled catch.


    The man didn’t respond right away. His brow furrowed as he stared out toward the horizon, his gaze unnervingly focused. “There’s… something out there,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual.


    “What are you talking about?”


    “A raft,” the man replied, pointing toward the distant expanse of water. “Small. Barely noticeable unless you’ve got eyes like mine.” He tapped the edge of his temple for emphasis, referencing the magical enhancements that sharpened his vision.


    His partner squinted into the distance but saw nothing but waves. “You sure? Could just be driftwood.”


    “No,” the man insisted, his tone firm. “It’s a raft. And there’s someone on it.”


    The two fishermen exchanged a quick glance before abandoning the spilled sack of fish. Without a word, they climbed back into their boat, the magical engine humming softly to life as they steered toward the distant raft. The rhythmic churn of the enchanted propeller cut through the stillness of the water as the small craft closed the gap.


    As they approached, the raft came into full view—a simple, inflatable vessel bobbing gently on the waves. Standing on it was a young boy, his hair slightly disheveled, holding a small pack. The boy turned to face them, his expression calm but curious.


    “Excuse me,” he called out, his voice carrying over the water. “would you please tell me the time?”


    The fishermen glanced at each other, bewildered. Scratching his head. “Just shy of nine in the morning.”


    The boy froze, his eyes widening as a look of sheer panic spread across his face. Before either fisherman could ask a question, the boy vanished. No sound, no flash of light—just gone.


    The two men sat in stunned silence for a long moment, staring at the now-empty raft. Finally, one of them spoke. “Did… did that just happen?”


    His partner shook his head, still gripping the boat’s controls. “I don’t know. But I’m not sticking around to find out.”


    They turned the boat back toward the dock, the raft left adrift behind them. Once ashore, they silently went about their work, cleaning the spilled fish and packing them for market. But even as they finished the day’s tasks, their minds kept returning to the boy—the boy who had simply asked for the time and disappeared without a trace.