13 - Admission Test

The carriage ride that morning should have been filled with laughter and chatter—at least, that was how Luna pictured it. Instead, the air inside was taut with silence, broken only by the rhythm of hooves striking stone.

Anna Crimson sat opposite of Luna, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles had turned pale. The noble girl’s eyes darted between the window and the floor, her usual playful demeanor absent.

Luna tilted her head, studying Anna with the same curiosity she often reserved for magical puzzles. She had seen Anna cheerful, smug, even a little mischievous. But this quiet, restless version of her was new.

“You’re going to chew your lip off if you keep at it,” Luna said lightly, trying to cut through the tension.

Anna blinked, startled, then forced a shaky laugh. “I—I’m fine.”

“Liar,” Luna replied, leaning forward with a sly grin. She pulled a small paper bag from her robe and shook it, the faint rustle promising treasures within. “Here. Sweets help with nerves. Sugar for the brain, and all that.”

Anna made a face, pressing a hand to her stomach. “If I eat anything right now, I’ll puke.”

Luna pouted dramatically, as if Anna had just rejected the world’s greatest remedy. “You wound me. Do you know how many fish dinners I’ve had to endure just to get here? Sharing candy is a sacred act.”

That earned a genuine laugh from Anna, though it was fleeting. Her gaze returned to the carriage window, where the walls of Celestial Academy loomed larger with every passing second.

White stone towers pierced the sky, their banners rippling proudly, the golden insignia of the First Light King catching the morning sun.

Luna followed her gaze and let out a low whistle. “Okay… I’ll give you that. If I had to take an exam in there, I’d probably puke too.”

Anna didn’t answer. She only gripped her skirt tighter.

When they reached the outer gates, the carriage slowed to a stop. Lines of applicants and their guardians were already forming, stretching like threads of color down the wide avenue. Guards in polished silver armor kept order, directing people toward the registration hall.

Anna’s mage tutor, Eveline, adjusted her spectacles and prepared to step down from the carriage.

The woman had been a constant presence these past days, sharp eyes, sharp tongue, and a sharper wariness whenever they landed on Luna.

She moved with professional precision, every motion a reminder of her role as protector of Count Crimson’s daughter.

But before Eveline could offer her hand, Anna’s voice broke the routine.

“Wait,” Anna said quickly, turning toward her. “Could… could Luna come with me instead?”

The words hung in the air like a sudden gust of wind.

Eveline froze, her hand mid-motion. Her brows knit together in immediate disapproval. “Young miss—”

“Please,” Anna pressed, her voice more urgent than usual. “Only one guardian is allowed, right? Then I want it to be her.”

Luna blinked, taken off guard. “Me? Uh, Anna, I don’t think—”

But the noble girl’s eyes were firm, pleading even. “You make me feel less nervous,” she admitted softly. “When you’re there, I… forget to be scared.”

Eveline’s lips thinned. She glanced at Luna, who sat in her seat with a piece of candy half-unwrapped, looking more like a mischievous child than a reassuring guardian.

Every instinct in Eveline screamed to refuse. Luna was an unknown—a powerful unknown, yes, but still dangerous.

And yet… she remembered the past days. The way Anna had smiled more freely, laughed more often, and carried herself with newfound lightness.

Eveline had noticed, too, that Luna never once took advantage of her closeness to Anna. If the girl had ill intent, she’d had more than enough opportunities.

The mage exhaled through her nose, reluctant but thoughtful. For Anna’s mental well-being, perhaps…

“Very well,” Eveline said at last, though her tone carried a warning edge. “But you will remain with her at all times, Miss Luna. No wandering, no distractions. Do you understand?”

Luna snapped a playful salute, nearly dropping her candy in the process. “Yes, ma’am.”

Anna’s shoulders relaxed, relief softening her features. “Thank you.”

Eveline could only sigh and offer a wry smile.

Together, Anna and Luna stepped into the academy’s grounds. The moment they crossed beneath the arching gates, Luna felt the shift—like stepping into another world entirely.

The path ahead was lined with marble statues, each depicting a figure from history, warriors, mages, rulers, saints. Their stone eyes seemed to watch the crowd with quiet approval.

The buildings stretched in perfect symmetry, white stone polished to a sheen, spires tipped with golden crystal. Magic hummed faintly in the air, subtle but undeniable, woven into every brick and tile.

Anna’s breath caught, her nerves momentarily forgotten. “It’s… beautiful.”

Luna let her gaze wander up the nearest tower, her grin returning. “It’s like walking into one of those ridiculously overfunded universities from my old world. All they need is ivy crawling up the walls and a pretentious motto carved in Latin.”

Anna tilted her head. “Latin?”

“Never mind,” Luna said quickly, waving her hand. “Just an old joke.”

Their awe didn’t go unnoticed. A man in crisp academic robes approached, his steps brisk but his smile kind.

He looked to be in his thirties, his dark hair streaked faintly with silver, his presence calm yet commanding.

“First time seeing the academy?” he asked warmly.

Both girls nodded.

“Come along, then. The examinations are about to begin. You don’t want to be late.”

Without waiting for their answer, he gestured for them to follow.

Anna and Luna exchanged a glance. Neither of them thought to question him—why would they? He looked every bit the professor. So, like obedient students, they trailed after him.

The corridors grew wider as they walked, until they spilled into a massive chamber that took Luna’s breath away.

Rows upon rows of chairs filled the hall, each occupied by a nervous young face. There were so many—hundreds, no, thousands of applicants. Their voices blended into a low hum, a river of anticipation and fear.

Luna slowed her steps, her sharp eyes scanning. Something didn’t add up.

“Anna,” she whispered, nudging her companion. “Do you see any… parents? Guardians? Grown-ups?”

Anna followed her gaze. Everywhere she looked, there were only students—some older than her, others around the same age. But not a single adult.

Her brow furrowed. “I… no. None.”

Luna’s lips pressed into a thin line. She spotted one boy in the corner with prematurely gray hair, and for a moment she thought he was an older guardian.

But then he turned, and his awkward, youthful expression told the truth. Sixteen, maybe seventeen. Just unlucky genetics.

Great. So not only was she surrounded by potential classmates she never signed up for, she was now very clearly in the wrong place.

“Anna,” Luna hissed, “we’ve got a problem.”

But Anna, nerves spiking again, barely registered the words. She tugged at her sleeve, her mind consumed by her own upcoming test.

That left Luna alone to solve this growing predicament.

Before she could form a plan, a deep voice rolled across the hall like thunder.

“Silence.”

The single word cut through the chatter instantly.

All eyes turned to the man who had spoken. He stood on the raised platform at the front of the hall, his posture straight, his gaze sharp.

He looked to be in his late forties, broad-shouldered and commanding. His robes were simple yet immaculate, earth-toned and unadorned except for a sigil embroidered on the chest.

Luna didn’t need to ask who he was—the murmurs around her filled in the details.

“William Terra.”

“A Level Eight… Earth Mage…”

“He’s one of the academy’s pillars.”

Luna’s eyes widened. Her pulse quickened with a thrill she didn’t bother hiding. A Level Eight. Her kind of peer. Someone worth measuring herself against.

But she forced herself to stay calm, at least outwardly. No need to draw more attention than she already risked.

William Terra’s gaze swept across the hall, heavy and piercing. When he spoke again, his voice carried authority but also warmth, resonant and steady.

“Welcome, applicants of Celestial Academy. Today, you stand on the threshold of greatness. Beyond these walls lies not only knowledge, but the path to glory, achievement, and responsibility.”

His words wove through the room like a spell.

“You will be tested—not only in strength, but in character. Remember this, power without humanity is corruption. Ambition without kindness is ruin. Strive, always, to reach higher… but never forget to lift others as you climb. Our founder, the First Light King, showed us that true greatness lies not in conquest, but in compassion.”

Students sat straighter in their chairs. Even those who had been trembling moments before seemed steadied, their hearts anchored by his words.

Luna, too, found herself leaning forward, listening. She compared his speech to the ones from her old university days—droning, lifeless lectures that had made her want to nap. This, though… this was different. Every word landed with weight. Every sentence carried meaning.

“Those who pass these trials,” William Terra concluded, “will not only become students of Celestial Academy. You will become guardians of humanity’s future. Carry that pride with you always.”

A silence followed, thick with reverence. Then, slowly, the hall erupted into applause.

Luna clapped along, though her mind was elsewhere.

Level Eight, she thought again, her grin tugging at the edges of her lips. Now that’s someone I’d like to test myself against.

But first… she had to figure out how to escape this mess.

The applause for William Terra’s speech still lingered in the vaulted hall, like the echo of a drumbeat. Students sat straighter, their nerves replaced with resolve.

Anna was among them, her trembling hands finally steadying in her lap. Luna noticed the difference immediately, her friend’s face was still pale, but her eyes shone with determination.

Luna, however, had a different problem entirely.

As the crowd began to move, guided row by row toward the exam wings, she leaned toward Anna. “You realize,” she whispered, “I’m not supposed to be here, right?”

Anna blinked, clearly still swept up in the grand speech. “What?”

“I’m not a student. I’m your so-called guardian. Guardians don’t take entrance exams.” Luna’s voice lowered, sharp with urgency. “If anyone notices, I’m toast.”

Anna’s brow furrowed, confusion wrestling with nerves. “But—if you just explain—”

“Explain to who?” Luna hissed, her eyes darting to the professors ushering groups toward their assigned rooms. “We were practically escorted in here by mistake. At this point, if I say anything, they’ll think I was trying to sneak in.”

Anna bit her lip, clearly torn. But the tide of students pressed forward, sweeping them along before they could argue further.

Luna sighed, muttering under her breath, “Of course. Out of all the messes I could stumble into, I end up crash-landing into a school exam.”

The crowd funneled into smaller hallways, groups of fifty students being directed into individual exam rooms.

Luna and Anna were pushed together into one such chamber, a wide room lined with desks, each equipped with parchment, ink, and quills already prepared.

The air smelled faintly of parchment dust and candlewax, and the tension in the room was so thick Luna half expected it to condense into mist without her casting a spell.

Students shuffled to their seats in nervous silence, their whispers fading as a robed professor entered from a side door.

Luna’s sharp eyes swept over the man. Mid-thirties, spectacles perched on his nose, the insignia of an earth mage embroidered on his sleeve.

His aura wasn’t oppressive—certainly not like William Terra’s—but it was controlled, steady, competent.

Anna tugged Luna’s sleeve as they sat side by side. “He doesn’t look that scary,” she whispered, though her voice still trembled.

Luna arched an eyebrow. “To you, maybe. To me, he looks like trouble if he finds out I don’t belong here.”

Anna winced. “R-right…”

The professor cleared his throat, commanding attention. “Welcome, applicants. The first portion of your examination will test your theoretical knowledge—magic history, rune theory, and elemental fundamentals. You have two hours. Begin.”

At once, quills scratched against parchment. Students bent over their work, brows furrowed in concentration.

Luna stared at the blank page in front of her, resisting the urge to laugh aloud. Magic theory exam? Really? If I answer this, they’ll assume I applied. If I don’t, I’ll look suspicious.

She leaned back, tapping her quill against the desk, eyes flicking toward Anna.

The noble girl was trembling again, her quill hovering uncertainly above the parchment.

Her lips moved faintly as she muttered to herself, recalling scraps of memorized information. The longer she hesitated, the more panic crept into her expression.

“Hey,” Luna whispered.

Anna startled, nearly blotting her parchment with ink. “W-what?”

“Breathe.” Luna nudged her with an elbow. “You’re shaking so much the desk is vibrating. Calm down before you snap the quill in half.”

Anna closed her eyes, inhaled shakily, then exhaled.

“That’s better,” Luna said gently. “Now… just start with what you know. Don’t think about the rest yet. Piece by piece, okay?”

Anna gave her a weak glare. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“Oh, trust me,” Luna muttered dryly, “I’ve done plenty of exams. They were all awful.”

That earned the faintest of smiles from Anna, small but real. She lowered her head and began to write, her strokes clumsy at first but steadier as minutes passed.

Luna leaned back in her chair, relieved that Anna was finding her rhythm. But her own predicament remained.

The professor paced slowly between the rows, his gaze sharp as he monitored the students. His steps were measured, his eyes scanning for cheaters, his presence a constant reminder of authority.

Luna’s quill hovered uselessly over the page. She could fake an answer or two—her knowledge of magic theory wasn’t nonexistent, after all—but doing so would only dig her deeper into the role of “student applicant.” If she truly wanted to avoid suspicion, she needed to get out.

Her mind ran through possible strategies. I could feign illness, but then they’d summon a healer. I could try sneaking out during the test, but that would draw attention. Or I could…

Her eyes narrowed, an idea forming. Magic.

But could she use it without being noticed?

She glanced at the professor again, measuring him carefully. His aura wasn’t oppressive, as she’d thought earlier. Solid, yes. Reliable, yes. But powerful? Not overwhelmingly so.

Anna, still writing beside her, seemed to sense her unease. She leaned in, whispering, “You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

Luna smirked faintly. “Always.”

Anna swallowed hard. “Don’t do anything reckless.”

“Define reckless,” Luna whispered back.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. Quills scratched, parchment rustled, the air grew staler with each passing second.

Luna tapped her fingers restlessly, her patience thinning.

Finally, she leaned closer to Anna. “Question. If I used magic right now… would the professor notice?”

Anna froze, eyes wide. “What? Are you insane?”

“Hypothetically,” Luna said innocently.

Anna stared at the professor, studying him carefully. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she measured his presence. “He’s… not one of the famous professors. I think he’s only around Level Six.”

“Only?” Luna’s grin widened.

Anna glared. “That’s still strong! But… if you’re stronger than him, maybe… maybe he wouldn’t notice subtle magic.”

“That’s what I needed to hear,” Luna said, satisfied.

Anna’s heart skipped. “Wait—you’re serious? You’re actually going to—”

Luna raised a finger to her lips, silencing her.

With practiced ease, Luna gathered mana at her fingertips, weaving it subtly beneath the desk. The spell she chose was simple, one she had cast countless times before. Mist.

A whisper of cool dampness curled around her, invisible at first, then softening her outline. Her body grew hazy, her form blurring against the backdrop of desks and parchment.

Anna’s eyes widened, her quill frozen mid-word. She watched, slack-jawed, as Luna’s figure faded from sight entirely, leaving only the faintest shimmer in the air where she had been.

Luna leaned close one last time, her voice a faint echo in the veil of mist. “Good luck, Anna. You’ve got this.”

And then she was gone.

Anna sat frozen, her breath caught in her throat. Her desk looked suddenly emptier, the chair beside her holding nothing but a faint swirl of cool air. She wanted to reach out, to call after her, but she couldn’t risk drawing attention.

Her heart hammered in her chest.

“Luna…” she whispered under her breath, equal parts awe and disbelief.

The professor continued pacing, none the wiser.

And Anna Crimson, for the first time that day, forgot to be afraid of the exam.