What do we do?

A/N: Whenever one of them occupies the body, the other would still be inside the body but he would be standing at the side, physically. I hope that makes sense… 

*****

Octavius had always imagined this moment, picturing the Academy's grandeur in his mind. But nothing could have prepared him for the real thing. As he set his gaze on the environment, he was struck by the majestic entrance, where towering stone statues stood guard. Beyond the entrance, the sprawling courtyard buzzed with students, professors, and guards, all going about their day.

Yet, instead of making a dignified entrance, Octavius found himself stuck in a long queue by the gate, awkwardly shifting his weight while scratching his backside. 

That was not all; his finger then shifted from his backside and wandered to his nose, a gesture he couldn't quite stop, no matter how much he would have liked to.

Due to the fact he has let Void — the mischievous entity — to take control of his body. 

According to Void, it would,

[Make no one suspect a thing, ]

"Do you have no shame? We are in public," Octavius muttered, his face flushing with embarrassment as he watched Void, picked at his nose. He glanced around nervously, hoping no one had witnessed the mortifying display.

[Shame is so... human. I'll leave that to you, Ovavius. I'm just here to keep things interesting while I wait for you to kick the bucket.]

Octavius eyed him warily, his brow furrowed in concern. Something didn't add up. When he had first expelled Void from his body at the Cave of Ruins, Octavius had been taller than the entity. Not larger, just taller. But now, he found himself looking up at Void. He looked an inch or two shorter and it didn't sit well with him. 

He decided not to dwell on the matter, knowing he had been seen in his current state already. Moreover, his new height fitted his freshly minted identity as a former horse attendant and, regrettably, a thief. 

If anyone asked about his whereabouts, he would simply say he had traveled to work on himself – a convenient excuse courtesy of Void.

"Well since you're in one, you better start acting like one" Octavius finally gave void a response. 

Octavius scanned the vicinity as he continued, "I thought Alaric said only ten people would be selected. Look at this crowd— there must be over a hundred people here."

[He said ten would be selected, he didn't give an estimate on those who would be present.]

Octavius scanned the queue growing impatient. "Is there a way we can move through the line?" he asked, considering a more unorthodox approach.

[Have you no shame?] Void asked him, throwing Octavius' earlier words back at him.

Octavius simply rolled his eyes.

Octavius scanned the queue again, his eyes narrowing as he observed that no one had moved forward yet.

 He had mentally marked the first person in line, a girl his age with exceptionally long hair that cascaded down her back, past her knees. She remained in her position whenever he checked, and he estimated they had been waiting for over two hours.

Things had indeed changed for Octavius. He couldn't remember his father's rule being this absurd.

Not that he paid attention to the Architect faction. 

In Octavius' opinion, the Architect faction was the weakest and least influential of the four, unlike the top three factions that wielded significant power. As a result, he had focused his attention on the top three, working hard to prepare himself for any of them. This thorough preparation— before he died and woke up again— allowed him to detect Amy was doing something similar, before she went for her passage rites. 

 Being assigned to the lowest faction was a possibility he had never for once crossed his mind. 

The irony of the situation was almost laughable.

Just as Octavius began contemplating ways to advance in the queue, the gate creaked open, capturing everyone's attention. A man emerged from the entrance, scanning the crowd intently as he stepped forward, his presence commanding the curiosity of those waiting. 

A distinctive mark adorned his forehead, and his attire – adorned with the emblem of Stella, a symbol Octavius had often seen on his late father's clothing – clearly identified him as a mage. Given the similarities between the markings on the man's forehead and his father's, Octavius inferred that this individual was likely a member of the council.

Octavius was familiar with the symbols at heart. A straight line on someone's forehead indicated membership in the Architect group, whose skills lay in non-magical craftsmanship and innovation.

In contrast, a crescent moon shape typically denoted a Conjurer, adept at summoning and manipulating magical energies.

The Leviathans, an elite group of knights and warriors, harnessed magical energies through their enchanted swords. Their foreheads bore an inverted triangle.

Healers, gifted in the art of restoration and medicine, wore a stylized spiral symbol on their foreheads.

Mages are the ruling class, distinguished by their exceptional mastery of magical energies and their inherent leadership abilities. They bear a distinctive symbol – a stylized star or asterism – on their foreheads, situated alongside their individual essence symbol, denoting their remarkable magical prowess and authoritative status.

The council was composed solely of Mages, with a total of four members, according to the traditional structure. However, Octavius' father, a member of the Leviathan faction, had broken with convention. He acquired a status for himself when he founded the Academy, and it earned him a unique position – he became the fifth member of the council, and was granted a distinctive Mage status.

"Twenty per group," the man with the Architect symbol and Mage marking said, his voice breaking into Octavius' reverie.

"What did he say?" Octavius asked Void, having missed the announcement.

[Wasn't paying attention, ] Void simply responded while staring at someone's cleavage.

"Get out of my body," Octavius ordered in disdain and Void's essence immediately dissipated from his body.

[Oh, come on.] Void whined but Ocavius paid no mind to him. Instead he tried to listen to the man in front of them, and thankfully he repeated his earlier words.

[The first test will commence after you've all formed a group. Each group is limited to Twenty people. You have five minutes to assemble.]

As soon as the announcement was made, the queue dissolved into chaos. People eagerly approached one another, trying to recruit members for their groups. Some called out to friends or acquaintances, while others used their charisma to persuade strangers to join them. A few even resorted to boasting about their skills or magical abilities to entice potential group members.

Octavius, however, stood frozen, unsure of how to approach others. He attempted to join a few groups, but the leaders consistently chose individuals with more impressive physical builds or apparent magical prowess over him, especially when they saw no marking on his forehead. To them, that meant he was absolutely worthless.

As the minutes ticked by, groups began to solidify, and Octavius found himself excluded from all five.

The remaining individuals, including Octavius, were left stranded. There were only fourteen of them, insufficient to form a new group. They exchanged nervous glances, their anxiety growing as the start of the first test drew near.

"What should we do?" Octavius asked Void nervously, seeking guidance as the situation grew increasingly uncertain.

Just then, the Mage, who had been observing the commotion, began to stroll towards the cluster of individuals, including Octavius, who had failed to form a group of the required size.