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— Bro, what are you doing? Are you trying to get us late or what? Come on, get up!
After blurting that out, Rick yanked the blanket on the bed a few times, but got no response.
It wasn't like Rinn wasn't there. It was more like he couldn't care less about replying.
— Come on already! Seriously, bro! — Rick's face was clearly running out of patience as he wrestled with the blanket, trying and failing to pull it off the boy.
— Just five more minutes, Rick...
Rinn's voice came out muffled and drawn out, like he was halfway through a dream — he sounded more like a grumpy old man than a twelve-year-old kid.
— Nope! Get up now, no five more minutes! I'm not getting screwed over because of you again, we're gonna be late!
At his limit, Rick gave the blanket one last tug — and lost. He got tossed backward by an unexpected force, landing flat on his butt, black hair falling over his pale face, thick brows furrowed in frustration.
Sitting there on the floor, he took a deep breath.
Jackass.
His eyes scanned the room until they landed on a small mug on the shelf. A smirk crept across his lips as he stood up, brushing the dust off his clothes.
He stretched out his hand and, with a few strange flicks of his fingers, made the water in the mug start to vibrate — then rise up, spiraling silently through the air.
Splash!
The water hit Rinn dead-on.
Soaked head to toe, Rinn barely had time to react. He shot up from bed, eyes blazing, and grabbed Rick by the collar in a flash.
— What the hell, Rick?!
— I had to, bro! You never wake up — you sleep like a rock! I should be asking you, what's your problem?
Water dripped onto the metal floor, forming a little puddle around Rinn's feet.
— Alright, alright. What's the big deal? Why the wake-up call? There's no class today. — Rinn stood there soaked, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes half shut.
Shirt clinging to his skin.
— What do you mean, no class? Are you living under a rock? Do you even know what day it is?
— Then go ahead, enlighten me, Mr. Overachiever. What day is it, huh? Because if you soaked me for nothing... i hope you've got your will written out.
Rinn still had Rick by the collar, and a dangerous glint was building in his eyes — one that promised payback before breakfast.
— Today's the aptitude exam.
— Oh, crap...
Rinn let go of Rick's collar.
The anger melted off his face, replaced by full-blown panic.
— Wasn't it supposed to be next week?
— Rector Yunen announced it was postponed to today during the penultimate class. She also mentioned that the last practical magic groups were a complete disaster, so there would be rescheduling.
Rinn crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow, trying to maintain his composure, despite the cold sweat trickling down his temple.
— She said that? When?
— When you were sleeping like a rock during class. Don't tell me you forgot about the rescheduled tests too?
Rick gave a teasing chuckle, leaning back to adjust his balance — that was just a joke, there was no way Rinn forgot.
However, the smile vanished the moment he looked at Rinn's face — frozen, with wide eyes, as if he had seen a ghost.
— Wait… Rinn? Did you forget?
No answer.
Only tense silence and the drop of water trickling from Rinn's forehead to the floor.
— No, look at me, stop messing with me. Are you serious? You know that if you don't meet the Rector's expectations in the tests, you'll be disqualified. And anyone who gets disqualified gets killed. If you forgot about the tests… does that mean you didn't study?
— No, I studied. I'm not that dumb. I just didn't remember it got rescheduled.
Rick let out a long sigh upon hearing this, relaxing his shoulders a bit.
— Whatever... — he said, already turning away. — I don't know why you sleep so much, but we don't have time for this now.
Without waiting any longer, he grabbed Rinn's wrist and pulled him towards the door. The hurried sound of their footsteps echoed through the white marble corridor, where the morning light filtered through the tall windows, casting a glow on the floor.
— Let's go.
— I'm still all wet… and my uniform looks like it's been chewed by a troll. — Rinn muttered, trying to adjust the soaked collar with his free hand.
As they passed by other students, whispers and curious glances followed them. Boys and girls whispered among themselves, some quietly laughing at Rinn's appearance, others just watching with attention.
— Cast a wind spell and make it dry your clothes. — Rick replied, without even looking at him. — This is a minor problem. Soon enough, we won't be able to use elemental magic at all anymore… so take advantage.
Rinn's face froze for a moment, remembering that after the tests, most magics would be permanently sealed.
— Damn…
—❖ —❖ —❖
Magic, by its very nature, required balance.
Nothing could be created from nothing — everything demanded a price. For a rose to bloom from the ground, another plant withered. For a rock to levitate in the air, the region's wind would be fragmented into particles until it disintegrated.
It was the law of equivalent exchange.
And when this balance was ignored, the payment came from the very essence of the conjurer: years of life taken, vigor drained, the body corrupted all at once.
There were ways to bypass these rules — hidden shortcuts in the layers of magical knowledge. But for that, mastery was required. A deep understanding of the four primordial elements.
Water.
Fire.
Earth.
Wind.
Still, magicians were few.
Only 0.00000000001% of the galactic population was born as a mana receptacle, capable of freely channeling the elements of nature.
This meant there was only one magician for every 10 trillion living beings.
Figures so scarce that they became almost legendary.
Legends turned into myths.
Myths turned into tales.
Many lived their entire lives without ever seeing a magician.
For most, they were just whispered stories — echoes of a past long gone, that few believed to be real.
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