The Academy

The Portal shimmered and pulsed with a soft glow, finally releasing them into a spacious room that buzzed with anticipation. Seated on the high chairs surrounding them were three council members, each adorned in intricate robes that reflected their status and authority.

Eriol was the one Mage missing from the trope.

In the middle of the room stood seven other contestants, each showing a range of emotions—some appeared anxious, while others seemed confident. However, they all recognized the significance of the gathering. But upon the new contestant's entrance, the others reacted with visible displeasure.

One of the Council members, recognized by his long hair as the Mage of the Healers faction, spoke up.

"Why are there five more of you?" He turned to Emery, the Architect Mage, and added, "I thought it was made clear that only ten people could enter."

Emery chuckled nervously and quickly glanced at his daughter, who had just walked in alongside the others.

"The others weren't complete," he explained. "So it seems fitting to remove three people from the group that just arrived."

"Not so fast," a commanding yet melodic voice rang out, its source belonging to the enigmatic mage of the Conjurer faction. The intensity in her gaze was unmistakable as she regarded the group. "We don't even know if they have the stones yet."

Emery, positioned at the forefront of the assembly of mages, turned to face the contestants gathered before him. His voice resonated with authority as he proclaimed, "Bring forth your aetherstones."

The air was thick with anticipation as each member of the group fumbled through their satchels, and brought forth their aetherstones. 

As they held them aloft, the aetherstones emitted a brilliant light that pierced through the surrounding darkness, casting intricate patterns that danced across the faces of those present. The radiance of the stones was a testament to their authenticity, each flicker and shimmer speaking of the power they held within.

Amidst this display, the Council members exchanged furtive glances, their brows furrowing in a complex web of unspoken thoughts. Each subtle shift of their expressions hinted at something only they knew of.

Marilyn spoke up, asserting confidently, "We have the real stones." Her voice held a weight that drew the attention of everyone in the room. Then, with a measured glance, she turned to the other contestants who had been there before they arrived. 

"But we can't say the same for them because the ones they have with them are all duplicated fakes. So we all deserve to be among the top ten while not subtracted."

As Marilyn spoke, Octavius's attention drifted away, his gaze locking onto a contestant he was certain he had never seen before, at least not among the grouped contestants. 

The man's face was unmistakable, etched in Octavius's memory as one of Thorne's friends – the same one who had brought Thorne to the cave, leading him to his downfall.

Octavius's jaw clenched in suppressed anger. He was torn between confronting the man and maintaining his composure. 

But then, he felt a strange sense of gratitude toward Void, who currently controlled his body. Void's presence was the only thing holding Octavius back from unleashing his fury upon the man.

Octavius's gaze swept across the remaining contestants, his eyes scanning their faces with growing unease. He was certain that some of the individuals standing before him had not been part of the original group.

Octavius wondered if the Architect Mage had orchestrated the killings, manipulating events to blame the carnage on "unseen forces" or, worse still, on his father or himself, alleging it on the demons that had managed to get in the barrier When they unleashed demons.

The Healers Mage's voice cut through Octavius's intense gaze, drawing his attention back to the conversation. 

"...We saw the Stones ourselves, and the same glow emanated from it, just like it did yours. Unless you're calling the Councilors liars..."

Marilyn opened her mouth to say something, but the glare she got from Emery made her swallow back her words. 

Octavius had long affirmed their relationship as father and daughter, since he set eyes on both of them. When his late father was still alive, his father would take him to visit his fellow Mages' houses, and he'd get a chance to have a brief chat with their children. 

Octavius had never been close to Emery's daughter Marilyn, but his late sister had been.

 "But we will give you flowers for attempting the challenge and getting the Aetherstones," the Conjurer's Mage added. 

"We don't want flowers; we want to be in the top ten to enter the Academy," Otto spoke up for the first time since they got there. "For getting the Aetherstones, you can at least do us that much."

Emery moved closer to the other mages and his voice dropped to a whisper.

"We cannot deny that every single one of them holds great potential for being able to find the Aetherstone. Not one but five. Even we weren't able to get a hold of one. If not for the late mage guidance, we would have never known what they looked or feel like. Indeed, those stones from the other groups were fake, so how about we issue—"

Before Emery could finish, the Conjurer's Mage cut him off with a rude tone. "Whoever told you your opinion is relevant in this matter, Emery?"

Emery's lips pursed, his anger simmering just below the surface, but he bit it back. He had grown accustomed to the disrespect, and he knew better than to argue with the Conjurer's Mage.

"Perhaps you're forgetting that I own this faction," Emery let out cooly.

The Conjurer's Mage sneered, her eyes flashing yellow in warning. "You didn't remember that when you agreed to let the other members be eliminated. Just because your daughter is in it now, you're getting cocky. Don't get over your head on this."

"But I suppose you're right," she countered, her eyes returning to normal. "They could be of credible use. To ensure fairness, we should put this to a vote. We'll use the late Headmaster's method of voting."

Emery nodded and turned to face the group, whose agitated expressions reflected their growing impatience. "To ensure fairness, we are going to issue the wild card method of voting—"

Emery's words trailed off as a sudden realization struck him. His gaze locked onto Octavius, and he recalled how the young man had proposed the 'Wild Card option' – a method composed by the late mage and used once and it was known only to those within the Academy. A flicker of surprise crossed Emery's face.

And he wondered how Octavius had managed that.

The more he stared at Octavius, he realized how familiar he looked. He couldn't just place his hands on where he had seen him before.