Affinity Test

The Mercenary Guild loomed ahead—larger than Zephyr had imagined. A towering structure of stone and steel, its facade bore the same emblem he'd seen on Gage's badge. Two swords crossed in defiance. Though to be honest, it kind of looked like something that could be on a pirate flag from his previous life.

As they entered, Zephyr was amazed by the size of the lobby. It stretched wider than he had expected, high ceilings, and alive with noise and movement. One entire wall was swallowed by job postings—parchments layered over each other in a chaotic mosaic. Groups of mercenaries clustered around them, debating loudly over the best-paying missions. The air was thick with rivalry and barely restrained bravado.

Gage didn't waste time. "Follow me," he said, cutting through the crowd like a blade through silk. Zephyr and Cedric trailed after him as he approached a free counter. The system was efficient, dozens of counters handling the endless stream of hopefuls and veterans alike.

Zephyr's nerves tightened when Gage handed over his badge and exchanged a few words with the attendant. Soon after, a form was pushed toward Zephyr. His hands trembled slightly as he filled it out—name, age, basic details—and paid the one gold fee.

Without delay, they were directed toward the back. A narrow hallway led them into a waiting room already half full, an odd mix of ages and faces. Some looked young, no older than Zephyr. Others wore the weariness of life etched into every wrinkle. Each sat in silence, lost in their own storm of anxiety or determination.

Gage leaned in, voice low and calm. "I'll be outside sorting my own matters. Good luck."

Zephyr nodded, though luck suddenly felt like a scarce commodity.

Cedric stayed, his usual playful grin intact. They both watched as hopeful after hopeful disappeared into the testing room. Some emerged with beaming smiles; most came out hollow-eyed, shoulders slumped as if the test had drained every ounce of hope from them. No one lasted more than three minutes inside.

Zephyr's turn arrived faster than he was ready for.

"Good luck," Cedric offered, giving Zephyr's shoulder a light bump.

Zephyr stepped inside. The air felt thicker here, charged with a quiet, oppressive energy. But all that fell away when his eyes caught the crystal at the room's heart.

It was massive, floating effortlessly above a polished stone pedestal. Clear as glass, yet somehow glowing—though no color bled from it. Just pure, untamed energy. Intricate runes curled across its surface, ancient and mesmerizing, as if the very essence of magic had been carved into it.

"Your form?"

The voice snapped him out of his trance. A woman sat behind a desk, her expression as sharp and disinterested as a dull knife. Zephyr handed over his paper silently. She scanned it quickly, pausing only to confirm his name and stamp of his payment before gesturing toward the crystal.

"Place your hand on the crystal. Focus on the mana in the air around you. Draw it toward yourself. Don't think too hard—just will it."

Zephyr took a steady breath and did as instructed.

The moment his hand touched the surface, something stirred deep inside him. It was subtle, like the brush of wind against skin. A sensation so faint he almost dismissed it—except it was there. A connection. The air around him shimmered with potential, mana particles dancing just out of reach. He could sense their different natures—fire, water, earth, wind—but none responded to his will. None obeyed.

Panic crept in.

No. Focus.

He steadied his breath and tried again.

This time, something clicked.

For the briefest second, a spark of understanding flared. He felt something draw toward him—flecks of energy latching onto a concept, an idea just on the edge of clarity. Like a word at the tip of his tongue. But before he could grasp it, the feeling slipped through his fingers, vanishing like smoke.

It was so fleeting that Zephyr even doubted it ever happened.

The woman watched the crystal intently for any flicker of color that might reveal an elemental affinity. When nothing came, she turned back to her desk, pen scratching lazily across the paper as she murmured. "No particular elemental inclination."

"No!" Zephyr's voice cracked. "I felt something. It—it was there. It was like—"

"Let me guess." She didn't even bother to look at him. "A fleeting sensation, like the mana was just about to become what you willed it to be—and then, nothing. Am I right?" Her tone was flat, practiced, as if she had recited these words a hundred times before.

Zephyr froze. "Yes… exactly."

She let out a tired sigh, heavy with the weight of repetition. "Attributeless mana affinity. More common than you think—one or two like you show up every week."

His heart sank, but she wasn't done.

"Technically, it means you might be able to tie your mana to a concept. But don't get any ideas." Her voice was flat, like the hammering of nails into a coffin. "You'd have to tread the path of a Pathfinder—a fool's errand. You'll waste your life chasing something you'll never catch. Best take up a sword and aim for Knight's path. With luck, maybe you could scratch your way to tier five before you're old and broken."

She shoved the paper back into his hands without another glance, already calling for the next person.

Zephyr walked out, paper crumpled in his grip. The fire of ambition inside him felt dimmer, hollowed out by disappointment.

It was as if his dreams had been snuffed out before they even had a chance to ignite. Is that it? The thought weighed heavy in his mind.

As soon as Zephyr looked up, Cedric caught his eye and strode over. "No affinity, huh?" He gave Zephyr's shoulder a firm pat. "Hey, cheer up. You should've seen me after mine—I thought my life was over. The higher your hopes, the harder the fall."

Zephyr barely heard him. His mind had already begun moving forward, searching for the next step. "What now? What's next for becoming a knight?"

Cedric raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips. "Damn, you're quick. Was about to try cheering you up, but you're already looking ahead."

Across the room, Gage watched silently from a distance. The shift in Zephyr's demeanor didn't escape him. That determination—pushing forward despite the blow—was rare. His own memories flickered back to his own test, his own disappointment. Attributeless mana affinity. He'd wasted effort chasing that impossible path before accepting reality.

Gage approached, cutting through the crowd. "So, no elemental affinity?"

"Attributeless," Zephyr said, jaw tight.

Cedric blinked in surprise. "Oh… Thought it was just no affinity at all."

"Same difference," Gage cut in. "Except you wanna waste years chasing a dead end. Nothing's changed. You still want to become a knight?"

Zephyr didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Good. Training grounds at dawn tomorrow. Don't be late." Gage turned and left without another word.

Zephyr glanced at Cedric—only to see him grinning like someone who knew a secret.

"What?"

Cedric clapped him on the back, way too cheerful. "Oh, nothing. Just… make sure to wake me when you get up. I wanna watch the show."

"Why? What's gonna happen?"

Cedric didn't answer, only chuckled as they walked back toward the Anchor's Lodge.

Zephyr narrowed his eyes. "Seriously, what's going to happen?"