“You are to focus on the crystal and halt in position once you see the magic signa engraved.” the proctor thus began to instruct; “You may feel a strangeness, but ignore it. Place your dominant hand onto the signa and hold firmly. Once I place my hand upon your forehead, close your eyes and concentrate. Focus inwards and follow the rhythm of mana’s flows deep within. Once I cast my spell, you will fill a ‘tug’ within the flow; grasp it and try to channel your mana through the stone.”

  “Alrightly… Got it…” the denizen, voice nervous, acknowledged.

  ? … ? The foreigner, meanwhile, had not the faintest clue what the proctor had just yapped about… Those instructions were practically nonsensical to her. She garnered, however, that…a direct observation of this…procedure…should clarify.

  The denizen paused before arcane crystal, seeing the signa engraved which so beckoned within; her eyes, oddly enough, began to…react with a slight gentle outline, as if that which was deeply imbued within was…already rather sensitive and used to being primed.

  Nevertheless, placing her dominant hand upon the crystal, she closed her eyes; the proctor approached and placed his own dominant hand upon her forehead, holding tightly though not too uncomfortably. The denizen focused and concentrated, her breaths…genuinely anxious…about what would be revealed.

  The proctor closed his eyes in kind, silent yet his lips seemed to be moving…as if rapidly reciting in mind. “…Magia pierce her soul and guide through Crystalia’s light” Eyes opening, his irises flashed as that glowing outline once again surrounded them, although this time being of a purer lightish-blue radiance. Very faint and almost impossible to see…wisp-dusty radiance of that same color began to gently flow out from his being, as if only barely awake itself, strips flowing way to his hand which began to…glow?

  Indeed, an odd glow began to emerge from the contact point between the denizen’s forehead and the protector’s hand… Interesting, the foreigner so observed… Was this ‘magical glow’ some kind of…procedural thing or…did it have a direct function or…was it just for show?

  And his eyes, too, she noticed, being able to see this time… Partial activation, not full… This suggested whatever ‘spell’ he had so ‘cast’ was not actually…that complicated or… Hmm… This could suggest far too many things, frankly.

  Nevertheless, those two remained in their positions… Nothing happened, until, abruptly, something happened.

  The denizen’s eyes opened as they ignited into radiance, the full sigil of the arcane flashing into activated visibility, revealing itself; her natural eye color was overridden by a rather bland and basal cyanic color. Staring into the exotic crystal which began to pulse and glow as if beating a rhyme, strands of wisp-dusty radiance, sparkly and more visible than necessary as if having been commanded to be so, flowed out from her nerves and being and into the crystal.

  Glowing in radiating synchrony, both the crystal and the denizens ignited eyes shifted to a radiant…strange midnight-blue sort of color; dark and blackish, yet with embers of luminescence as if it were the color of shadowy twilight itself. The harmonized radiance of the crystal intensified and only…intensified, as if the crystal were becoming increasingly overwhelmed—although, this was purely a visual effect, for the crystal was fine.

  The proctor, his hand and the glowing contact thereof still on her forehead, stared as the outline in his eyes brightened… His eyes widened, his mouth becoming agape… However, before he could even utter a word, the display continued on.

  Rather speedily, her ignited eyes shifted and the crystal in kind shifted, the coloring morphing to a…rather blackish color yet also with pulses of dark nightly purple… Radiant blackish purple… As if the color invoked darkness and ultra-violet obscurity. Nevertheless, the radiance of the crystal was no longer as pronounced, even if it was still quite strong and heavy.

  Yet soon after, the denizen’s ignited eyes and the crystal so shifted again, this time to a vibrant bright yellow, tinting almost white, color, as if the embodiment of photonic synergy itself. The crystal’s glowing potency dimmed somewhat more, but not too much.

  The proctor just nodded, yet before he could even acknowledge, it was still not over.

  Combusting as if, the crystal and her ignited eyes morphed schools entirely, the radiant color shifting to a fiery orange and burning yellow with traces of red…as if the compound color of fire itself, before shifting away to the sparkly glacial blue color of frost and ice, before evaporating as if to a steamy and smokey grey sort of color. Although the crystal’s potency had diminished with respect to before, it remained remarkable, nevertheless.

  The proctor stared with bewilderment as the crystal only continued to shift and morph. A cloudy white and skyish radiance that invoked the air, followed by a watery blue of all things liquid, followed by an earthly tan and brown of all things solid. And even from here, the crystal continued on as if a wheel cycling through; albeit with each turn, the potency only diminished furthermore.

  A vibrant lifely-green that invoked nature, followed by a bleak deathly black and whitish-grey, followed by a strange pale and ghostly tealish-white. Before, finally, the crystal and her ignited eyes ended…at the very same lightish pure-blue color of the proctor himself. The crystal’s glow dimmed and wavered as it returned to that so-called ‘base’ color, the denizen’s ignited eyes doing the same as they simmered.

  The proctor remained utterly stunned… His head nodded away, his hand letting go as he…stepped aside, his eyes returning to normalcy. His spell no longer active, her ignited eyes ‘flickered’ just a little as they too returned to normalcy, her natural eye colors returning in kind, the sigil engraved deactivating and disappearing; left behind was only a faint so-called ‘signa-burn’, destined to fade away in kind.

  “Gods’ sacred…” the proctor’s breaths so expunged aloud, the shock quite evident…

  “Yeah… Yeah…” The denizen too was extremely shocked, her now deignited eyes having widened, her breaths…stunned… She stood frozen and bewildered, even more so than the proctor himself, her hand unable to let go of the crystal.

  “An extreme affinity for shadow…as if you have already mastered it…” the proctor thus began to remark in awe…

  “I wouldn’t say mastered, but…” the denizen’s breaths slipped though she quickly ahemed…

  “Strong affinities for light and dark schools…” his voice continued, nevertheless, “Clearly potent affinities for…fire, ice, and even vapor—the entire spectrum... Adequate affinities for wind, water, and earth… Weaker but still prominent affinities for life, death, and spirit… And even some affinity for pure magic, with the only schools missing being wild and anti-magic but… But…” His awed eyes turned to the denizen herself; “You have affinities for almost every traditional arch-school… A prodigy, you are natural prodigy…”

  “…uhuh… Uhuh… Huh…” The denizen finally dropped her hand, though she continued staring blankly at the crystal…as if her entire life had just been…flipped over itself, overthrown. “This was not…part of the plan…” her still shocked breaths slipped out…

  Without any delay, the proctor practically snatched the denizen’s document out from her hand. He promptly speeded to that desk, picked up a feathered pen, and immediately began writing away, striking out certain sections, filling in others, before finally stamping it with quite the stamp; he then took out from a drawer a special card of sorts, one he had hardly ever issued in his whole career; filling in and stamping in kind, he placed it along the document as he returned.

  “Here is your document,” he thus said as he handed both the document and the card, “take it and take this priority exemption card back to center. In every sense, you are a prodigy, and I have officially recommended you for immediate selection. There is no further purpose for assessment…” Indeed, his attitude had flipped quite, it seemed; “Would that we were in prior times, then you would have certainly reached level ten well before my age… But, I assure you, you will advance to level four—five, if I have a word to force into it… To deny such a right to someone so rare is a disservice to the magical arts…”

  “Duhuh…” the denizen had…literally no words whatsoever; she just nodded away… “Alrightly, then…” She accepted the card and document, and thus began to…back away, turning her eyes to the foreigner… “I guess your…words gave me…Fortune’s luck… Haha…” Her voice was cordial, though awkward.

  “Thus, it may seem, I suppose…” the foreigner just replied, cordially; although, her focus remained largely preoccupied…

  Indeed, what exactly did she just observe?

  Nevertheless, the proctor then shifted his eyes to that foreigner, his demeanor and attitude so immediately flipping upside-down. “Now, your turn… Let us get this finished with… So many more I have to get through…” His voice carried presumptions of predetermined failure.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Oh, rightly!” the denizen, or now ‘prodigy rather, abruptly blurted; “May I…uhm…remain here? I would like to watch her…”

  The proctor waved his hand in a whatever gesture; “Fine. Just be sure to head straight for the center counter when this is done, from there you will be heading straight to the head mage’s office.”

  The foreigner gently plopped her handbag down before making way to that crystal. Yet, as she did so, she mused in mind, cogitating with thoughts speeding fast…

  Hmm… Owing to the complex nature of the arcane and that which facilitated it, and the endless sea of variables and interaction effects involved, there was only so much she could deduce.

  However, her most immediate…inference was that… The sigil craved into the crystal operated as a ‘primer’, the proctor’s spell operating as an ‘igniter’—however, given he himself was only in a partially ignited state, the spell’s activity was not complex, heavy, or work-loaded; besides serving as an initializing igniter, it probably did not do anything more than ‘guide’ the denizen’s own ‘channeling’ of her so-called ‘mana’ into the crystal.

  Hmm… Yet, as for that crystal itself, what direct functions did it really have in all of this, besides being a cosmetic show of ‘affinity’? And that ‘affinity revelation’ likewise… To cause such shifts in color and… Hmm…

  The foreigner arrived at the crystal, halting before it.

  Regardless, it was evident that this entire procedure was not merely the product of an arcane crystal and one simple spell… This was clearly a complex arcane ritual in which all paired components, objects, and behaviors—from the crystal itself, to the precise hand contact with that crystal, to the hand contact with the forehead, to the distance from the crystal, to the concentrated cogitations, and so on—interacted in combination to induce this specific outcome and response, no doubt being facilitated by preexisting internalized frameworks—frameworks she herself lacked.

  The foreigner identified that encarved sigil, calling to her, the ignited sigil of her own cyanic eyes brightening slightly. Although both her hands were technically dominant, she opted to place her right-hand onto it, given that seemed to be the norm.

  All things considered, she doubted she was going to ‘pass’ this so-called ‘assessment’. It was not going to have the intended effects on her.

  The proctor stepped closer, standing next and near, at whom the foreigner promptly glanced. “Just to say, I am not taking off the mask.” She was blunt.

  The proctor simply let out an exhausted sigh of indifference; “Yes, yes… It shan’t make any difference…” he merely said, before firmly placing his palm onto her…upper forehead—the exposed parts of it. He then closed his eyes as his lips began to move, silently.

  The foreigner followed in kind; she closed her eyes and began to focus, concentrating in absolute… Fixating on all the nerves in her hands, the contact with the crystal’s cold and rough surface, so strange and bizarre to touch. She, or rather something else imbued deep within her, could feel the arcane and arcane…stuff imbued within the fabrics of this crystal.

  “…Magia pierce her soul and guide through Crystalia’s light!” Words incanted, the proctor’s eyes opened as they once again partially ignited as with before, the palm of his hand ‘glowing’ as so faint radiant dust wisped.

  The foreigner…could feel…something as a product of this, yet it was so…distilled and…mute; it was not only her feeling so, either. Nevertheless, she tried to adhere to the instructions of this ritual. She concentrated and focused stronger and stronger, attempting to ‘channel’ her ‘mana’ into the crystal.

  Moments passed and passed…

  “Huh…?” The proctor seemed…perturbed; he adjusted his hand’s position on her forehead… “What is… What is this? Why isn’t…” He readjusted his hand again… “No response… I am not getting any…response…”

  Well, of course not. Thus, the foreigner so nearly sighed. She—or rather, that which was deeply imbued within her—had a myriad of automated encoded protocols and commands, or ‘spells’ always active, which safeguarded against exactly what the proctor’s spell was attempting to do… Never mind that she—or rather that which was deeply imbued within her—was already in an activated state, and thus needed no ignitor. Although, considering the proctor’s own was not being reactively bitten back, this suggested a minimal intrusion.

  Nevertheless, she concentrated and concentrated and concentrated, deeper and deeper and deeper… Before, finally, as more and more nothing passed, something responded—a response induced by her own commanding volition.

  Her mask-obscured ignited eyes brightened slightly more… Wisp-dusty flakes of cyanic radiance, so very faint, began to emanate… However, it required a few additional seconds of added concentration and focus to…get it to flow into the crystal. Truly, so stubborn and lazy that which was imbued deep within always seemed to be…

  The crystal began to glow and radiate, yet…only so barely…

  “Huh…” The proctor, noticing the crystal was finally revealing, stared… He waited and waited for it shift, yet… “…just base?” he mumbled… “So faint too, as if…non-existent… No wonder I did not get a response…” Seeing that the crystal was not going to become any more potent, he withdrew his hand with a sigh, eyes returning to normalcy.

  The foreigner sighed in kind, opening her eyes though she kept her hand on the crystal… Frankly, deep down within, she was…perhaps…expecting her essence to do better than this. Though, such changed little of the reality: she failed, and she knew it.

  “Two rarities in a single day…” the proctor’s breaths thus remarked, his voice shifting… “There are two…kinds of rare birds in this world… Those who hatch with innate talents and preborn potential…”—he glanced at the denizen—“such as prodigies like her…”—his eyes returned to the foreigner— “and there are those…who hatch with nothing… Absolutely zero potential at all... And I am afraid…you are that bird…”

  The denizen, that prodigy, stared with…interest, yet also a semblance of…disappointed sorrow. “Fortune is never not without her debts…I guess…” Her eyes averted astray, her voice mellow and saddened…

  “I will be frank with you… My expectations were minimal, but…this… This is just…disheartening…” the proctor continued, his voice with…genuine remorse; “It is not that you have…no affinity—you have nothing… Very scant traces of mana at all—to even cast the most basic of spells would kill you…”

  “Hm…” Hearing these words, however, the foreigner began to feel…strange… Remorseful, pitiful, or empathic or not… These words, they were…something…

  “I know not whence you hail, alien…” the proctor spoke on, “but it is clear that either you yourself or your people generally…have zero capability for the arcane… I have never seen this degree of unresponsiveness—it must not be your people’s specialty…”

  Hmm… The foreigner was not surprised by the results of this so-called ‘assessment’. It was expected… Yet… These words, these patronizing words from a denizen of all things regarding her own arcanity… She was not necessarily irritated or angered, but rather…she did not like these words. And, in fact, the more this primitive proctor patronized as if she were beneath him, the more she was filled…with this strange…incomprehensible desire—this urge—to…demonstrate a point, and she knew exactly how…

  This crystal was forged by the arcane; its material composites were composed and imbued with the same exotic…stuff. Stuff…she just so happened to be proficient at snatching, even if the process would be rather…esoteric and tedious…without her conduit.

  “I would not be with the certainty of that.” the foreigner thus so simply stated. With a deep inhaling intake of air, she focused and concentrated, more inwards than outwards, her right-hand remaining so firmly upon that crystal. Her left-hand began to move, however; her fingers began to…weave, as if dancing in a coordinated rhythmic flow, the arm bobbing slightly and gently as her legs began stride vaguely left to right although not moving.

  Her ignited eyes began to intensify somewhat, wisp-dusty cyanic radiance flowing out as if following along to the tune of her flow, becoming more vibrant yet still so hard to see…

  The proctor, however, attuned to such arcane matters, was immediately able to tell that…something was happening. “What… What are you doing?” His breaths felt uneased.

  Yet the foreigner remained silent. Wisps of cyanic exoticism continued to sparkle and glimmer in dusty bands and strands; following along the rhythmic tune of her weaving fingers, the wisp-dusty radiance flowed into the crystal, etching itself as if infesting veins that stitched into the very fabrics of its being.

  The cyanic veins carved and grew as if radiating cracks, the crystal beginning to illuminate as more poured in. Oddly enough, however, unlike that affinity revelation, this process was hardly so flashy. The cyanic radiance remained rather faint and translucent even if more sparkly and pronounced as the intensity increased.

  Indeed, for visibility and intensities thereof were not necessarily intrinsic properties inherent to arcane potency or ‘power’ even if correlated, but could easily be appearances merely set by command—like that glowing hand. And this esoteric procedure had no such mandated flashiness and was therefore more ‘organic’ in its display, being more telling of the actual work being exerted.

  Roots and veins spreading out more and more, the crystal brightened as its structure, its arcane composites and materials, began to…crack, slowly yet violently… Wisp-dusty exoticism began to flake off as if frosting steam; as if the cyanic veins were slowly ripping, tearing, consuming, assimilating.

  The proctor, wordless, backed away from the crystal, the prodigy simply staring…

  The foreigner’s fingers continued to weave their rhythmic tune, the crystal reaching a critical point as it so quickly became overwhelmed by the consuming cyanic veins and forming cracks, the devouring radiance intensifying and concentrating, before… She clenched her weaving fingers harshly; eyes igniting further, the crystal suddenly burst in a shattering implosion of cyanic glimmer, bits and pieces dissolving and poofing away into snow-dusty wisps and sparkles, which gradually faded from visibly as they flowed into her own.

  Quintessential composites assimilated and resynthesized into her aura, repurposed; information extracted. A foggy hue of mellow glitter persisted in the silent room, as all that remained of the crystal were the leftovers unusable and the basic foundations.

  Her mask-obscured ignited eyes stabilized and renormalized, hidden radiance dimming… Yet that something else deeply imbued within her being could feel the surge, indeed… She glanced at the proctor behind, glaring; “It appears that the ‘mana’ was not empty to me; it was simply hungry.” she so plainly spoke; “You rely too much on the eyes to see the things that cannot be seen; the things that do not have to be seen.”

  Utterly speechless, both the proctor and the prodigy were bamboozled, their minds still struggling to process what…they had even just witnessed.

  “W-w-what even was… What kind of magic was that? Was that even magic??” the prodigy finally blurted aloud, at a loss.

  The proctor remained frozen and immobile, breathing weightily, nodding away slightly… He finally expunged a deep acknowledging breath; “Yes… Certainly…” he began to say, “I appear to have…misspoken too soon…” There was an odd expression emerging on his face, eyes widened with bewildered yet also…disconcerted…fascination, as if a spark long lost was reignited within; “Heh… So, there does still…exist unknowns we have yet to grasp…” His focus turned to the foreigner; “And we do happen to make…special exceptions…for certain extra-ordinary circumstances…”