Arin strode towards the Imperial Magic Academy, his heart pounding with anticipation. The testing site was a marvel of architecture, with spires that seemed to touch the sky and walls that whispered secrets of the past. He'd never seen anything like it – the sprawling gardens, the crystal-faced buildings, the students and professors moving with purpose. As he entered the grand hall, he was swept up in a tide of students, nobles, and commoners. The air was thick with excitement and nervous energy. Arin's eyes widened as he took in the sea of faces – sons and daughters of merchants, soldiers, and nobles, all gathered for the aptitude testing.
"...think I'm nervous? My family's paying a fortune for this," a haughty voice said nearby. A blonde girl, probably a noble, adjusted her gloves, her eyes scanning the crowd for familiar faces. "I need to get into the top tier. Father's already promised me a spot in the royal guard if I ace this." Her companion, a boy with a smug grin, snorted. "Tier 1, easy. My family's got connections. I'll be in the top 10, no sweat." He nudged the girl. "You better not be competition, Lyra."
Arin's jaw clenched. He pushed through the crowd, trying not to draw attention. He didn't belong here – an orphan among the elite. But he'd come this far; he'd see it through. He overheard snippets of conversations around him – "I heard the Archmagister is looking for students with unique affinities..." "My brother says the royal guard is recruiting from this year's batch..." "I just want to prove myself, you know?"
Professors in elaborate robes mingled among the students, discussing the upcoming tests. "Professor Eira, any expectations for this year's batch?" a professor asked, sipping a cup of steaming tea. Eira's eyes scanned the crowd, her expression thoughtful. "We've got rumors of a few prodigies. But the true test is harnessing potential. We've seen enough raw talent go to waste." The professor nodded, intrigued. "And what about the Crown Prince's involvement? Is he looking for successors?" Eira's smile was cryptic. "Erik's got his own agenda. We'll see how it plays out."
Just as the conversation was about to escalate, a richly dressed noble, Lord Vestor, sneered at Arin. "Orphan. What're you doing here? Don't waste our time." Arin's face burned with anger and shame. He ignored Lord Vestor, trying to keep his composure.
A voice cut through – "Enough, Lord Vestor." Crown Prince Erik stepped forward, his expression thoughtful. "The social class of the empire is rotten. It's built on outdated notions of superiority, on pedestals erected by birthright rather than merit. We've seen enough mediocrity rise on name alone, while talent languishes in shadows. Today, we judge potential. Not pedigree. Not wealth. Not the circumstances of your birth. Talent." His eyes swept the hall, piercing. "The empire needs people who can lead, who can innovate, who can protect. Not relics of a bygone era."
Lord Vestor paltered, "Your Highness, I was just—"
Erik's eyes narrowed. "You were just perpetuating the very rot I'm talking about, Lord Vestor. Leave the boy be."
Arin stared, surprised. The Crown Prince was... wise. He looked like someone who saw beyond the surface, who understood the unspoken rules of the empire.
Erik turned to Arin. "You here for testing?" Arin nodded, still mute. Erik's smile was faint. "Show us what you've got. Surprise us. The empire needs surprises."
The crowd quieted, awaiting Arin's turn. For the first time, Arin felt a spark of hope – maybe he did belong here.