Threads of Destiny

The orphanage yard buzzed with energy. The children, usually lost in their own games and small rivalries, had gathered in one place, murmuring with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

At the center stood Edran, clad in his usual dark attire, his black eyes unreadable as they swept over the eager faces before him. A small wooden table had been set up, and on it rested a single object—the Affinity Crystal. It was no ordinary gem. It pulsed faintly, its surface smooth and flawless, yet filled with an unearthly glow, as if something within it breathed.

Kai, Rena, and Hale approached together, followed by the other children. Rena's blue eyes were alight with anticipation, her red hair bouncing as she walked. Hale, though trying to appear composed, had a telltale spark of eagerness in his green eyes.

Kai, as usual, remained quiet, his gaze fixed on the crystal. Something about it stirred a feeling he couldn't place.

Edran's voice broke the murmurs.

"This is the Affinity Test," he announced. "Some of you may have an affinity. Most of you will not. That is the way of things."

The children hushed, hanging onto his every word.

Edran lifted the crystal slightly. "When touched, the crystal reacts based on one's affinity." He gestured toward it. "There are three known affinities I will tell you about. Mana Affinity"—he paused as the crystal shimmered, refracting rainbow-like light—"represents a connection to magic. Those with a strong talent will see the glow intensify."

Several children gasped.

"Aura Affinity," Edran continued, "is the power of the body. It manifests as a deep red pulse." He demonstrated, placing his own hand briefly over the crystal. A faint red shimmer appeared before vanishing.

Rena nudged Hale. "I bet you'll get that," she whispered with a grin.

Hale crossed his arms, trying to appear indifferent, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

Edran's voice lowered slightly, taking on a different tone. "Lastly, there is Divine Affinity—a rare gift. If someone possesses it, the crystal will glow in gold and white light, accompanied by a faint chime."

The children glanced at one another, awed by the description.

Edran did not mention Curse Affinity.

No one noticed.

He gestured to the group. "One by one, come forward and touch the crystal. Observe, and take minimum action."

Kai's heart gave a strange jolt at those words, but he remained still.

The Test Begins

The first child to step forward was Jam. He was one of the older boys, broad-shouldered and always quick to pick fights, though there was nervousness in his stance now.

He placed his hand on the crystal.

A faint red glow pulsed from within.

"Low Aura Affinity," Edran noted.

Jam stepped back, face unreadable, though a small smirk tugged at his lips.

Next was Fahi, a smaller boy who had always followed Jam around. He hesitated, then pressed his palm against the crystal.

The same faint red glow appeared.

Edran nodded. "Low Aura Affinity."

Fahi let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and exchanged a glance with Jam.

Then came Arata, a quiet boy who had always preferred books over roughhousing. He touched the crystal, and it shone with a steady rainbow shimmer.

"Medium Mana Affinity," Edran announced.

A murmur spread among the children. Arata's face remained neutral, but his fingers curled slightly, as if absorbing the weight of those words.

Then it was Hina's turn.

She approached, hesitant but determined. As soon as her fingertips met the crystal—

A soft golden and white light enveloped the stone. A faint, otherworldly chime rang out, filling the air with something indescribable.

Silence.

Awe.

Edran's eyes flickered, though his face betrayed nothing.

"Divine Affinity," he said quietly.

The children whispered among themselves, shifting uncomfortably. Divine Affinity? That was something from stories, not reality.

Hina withdrew her hand, looking down at it as if it had transformed. She was stunned—she hadn't expected anything.

Then, almost as if sensing the shift in atmosphere, Rena strode forward, breaking the tension.

"Let's see what I've got," she declared boldly, placing her hand on the crystal.

A brilliant rainbow glow erupted, much brighter than Arata's. The very air around her seemed to shimmer with mana.

Edran raised an eyebrow. "High Mana Affinity."

Rena beamed. She turned to Hale with a triumphant look. "Beat that."

Hale rolled his eyes but stepped up. He didn't hesitate as he touched the crystal.

A strong, steady red pulse radiated outward, the glow deep and rich.

Edran gave a small nod. "Medium Aura Affinity."

Hale allowed himself a small grin. "Good enough," he muttered, but the pride in his voice was evident.

Then, finally—

Kai.

The moment he stepped forward, a strange quiet settled over the yard.

He placed his hand on the crystal.

At first, nothing happened.

Then—

The crystal darkened.

A shadow spread from within, devouring light itself. The air grew cold. The whispers of the children died.

Something was wrong.

Kai's fingers twitched slightly. Why was it—

Suddenly, before anyone could react, the darkness flickered—and vanished.

In its place, the crystal gave a weak rainbow shimmer, faint and almost unimpressive compared to Rena's display.

Edran's eyes lingered on Kai for a second longer than necessary.

Then, he spoke, his tone carefully measured.

"Low Mana Affinity."

Kai blinked.

Was that it?

He pulled his hand back, expression unreadable.

Rena patted him on the back. "Hey, at least you got something."

Hale crossed his arms. "Yeah, but barely."

Kai only shrugged. "…Doesn't matter."

He caught Edran's gaze for the briefest of moments.

Something had happened.

Something wrong.

But no one spoke of it.

Aftermath

The children who had affinities whispered among themselves, already dreaming of futures filled with magic or strength.

But a few stood off to the side—those whose hands had touched the crystal and received nothing.

One boy kicked at the dirt. "I guess I'm just… normal."

Edran approached them, his presence calming but firm. "Having no affinity does not mean you have no worth." His gaze swept over them. "Power does not define who you are. Strength is not only found in what is given but in what you become."

The words lingered in the air.

The children, though still disheartened, seemed to stand a little taller.

As the sun dipped lower, casting golden hues over the orphanage, the test came to an end.

Hina stood apart, staring at her hands as if they held some divine secret.

Rena and Hale argued over whose affinity was more useful.

Kai remained silent.

And Edran, watching them all, knew—

This was only the beginning.

When Edran went to report to his lord.

His lord read over the parchment, tapping his fingers against the desk. "Only Rena and Hale will be sponsored. They will train at the academy, but in return, they will serve my house."

Edran's jaw tightened. "And the others?"

"The church will take Hina," the lord said dismissively. "The rest… are of no use."

Just trained them under your care and turn them into knight.

Edran did not respond immediately. His gaze flickered to the parchment, then back to his lord. "Kai should be included in the sponsorship."

His lord raised a brow. "The boy with low talent? No."

Edran remained still. "He has potential."

A quiet pause. Then the lord's eyes sharpened. "Are you questioning my decision?"

The tension in the room thickened.

Edran's hand curled into a fist, but his voice remained controlled. "I am offering my assessment. If the boy fails to prove himself, then it will be my failure."

A long silence.

Then—

"Fine," the lord said coldly. "But he belongs to my house. If you are wrong, you will answer for it."

Edran said nothing, only inclining his head slightly.

Word spread quickly. The orphanage became lively with excitement. Those who had been chosen spoke in hushed tones of their futures.

That afternoon, Hina shyly approached Kai.

"Hey... you're Kai, right?" Her voice was soft, her face lightly flushed.

Kai tilted his head. "Yeah?"

She hesitated, then murmured something too quiet to hear.

Before Kai could ask, Hale suddenly appeared. "What are you two doing?"

He grinned. "Let's go find Sir Edran! I want to learn swordsmanship!"

Rena joined them, smirking. "What's this? Hina, are you confessing your undying admiration for Kai?"

Hina turned red. "I— I wasn't—!"

Kai, unfazed, looked at her. "You are the one with Divine Affinity. Did you need something?"

Hina hesitated, then shook her head quickly.

The future awaited.

Edran had made his decision. The academy, the church, the path of the sword—all had been set in motion.

Change had come.

And it was only the beginning.

As the dust settled from the affinity test, Edran wasted no time. He moved with quiet efficiency, preparing everything that needed to be arranged. The children had to be accounted for, their futures decided. Reports were written, supplies ordered, and messengers sent. The orphanage, once forgotten and decaying, now pulsed with the stirrings of change.

Then came the summons from the Order of Light.

It was inevitable. A child with Divine Affinity could not remain in an orphanage, not when the church laid claim to all those touched by the divine.

The paladin arrived at dusk.

Clad in polished white armor etched with golden inscriptions, he stepped into the orphanage with an air of quiet authority. His presence was overwhelming, not in the way of brute force like Edran, but in the sheer weight of expectation he carried. A warrior of faith, an enforcer of the divine will.

His gaze swept over the children before settling on Hina.

"You are chosen," he said, his voice steady, absolute.

Hina stood frozen, her small hands clenched at her sides. The others watched in silence, an unspoken understanding passing between them. This was not a request. It was a decree.

Sister placed a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder, her expression unreadable.

Edran remained still, his black eyes locked onto the paladin's, but he said nothing. Even he could not stand against the authority of the Order of Light without consequence.

Hina swallowed, forcing herself to move.

She stepped forward, her footsteps light but deliberate. There was no struggle, no protest. Only a brief silence in her heart—like the stillness before a storm.

Then, with a final glance at the place she had called home, she left.

The doors closed behind her, and the orphanage felt just a little emptier.

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