Identification

After the selections and rejections concluded, the remaining students were ushered into a grand chamber adjacent to the Hall of Ordeals. The room was vast and circular, its high arched ceiling painted with scenes of magical battles and legendary hunters. The air buzzed faintly with energy, and at the center of the chamber stood the **Orb of Ancestry**—a colossal sphere of shimmering crystal set atop a pedestal of intricate runes. This ancient artifact had long been used to bind students to their identity at Demiri.

Principal Eldarion stood at the forefront of the gathering, his presence as commanding as ever. "Those who remain," he began, his voice resonating through the chamber, "have proven themselves worthy of the challenges this school presents. But before you take your place among the prodigies, your identities must be documented."

He gestured toward the Orb, its surface glowing faintly. "The Orb of Ancestry will reveal your name, your magic affinity, and your bloodline. This is not merely a ceremony; it is an acknowledgment of who you are and the power you carry."

One by one, the students stepped forward, their expressions a mixture of pride and apprehension. Each placed their hand on the Orb, which responded instantly by flaring to life, projecting shimmering text in the air above their heads.

"Linara Estelle," read the glowing script above a confident young woman with fiery red hair. "Affinity: Fire. Bloodline: Sunflare Dynasty."

Murmurs of recognition rippled through the crowd. The Sunflare Dynasty was renowned for their mastery over fire magic, and Linara's determination burned as brightly as her lineage.

Another stepped forward, a wiry boy with nervous energy. The Orb flared again, revealing his identity. "Darian Cole. Affinity: Air. Bloodline: The Tempest Wardens."

Darian let out a relieved breath as a few Guild Leaders nodded approvingly, marking him as a promising addition to the ranks.

The ceremony continued, with each student stepping forward to be named by the Orb. Some names carried the weight of famous bloodlines, their ancestors etched into history. Others, less known, showed surprising affinities that earned whispers of admiration.

When it was Speed's turn, the room seemed to quiet as all eyes followed him. His steps were steady as he approached the Orb, his heart pounding in his chest. Placing his hand against its surface, he felt a warm pulse of energy, as though the Orb itself were alive.

The crystal flared with a blinding gray light, the same hue that had surrounded him during his awakening. The text above his head shimmered into view, its letters bold and striking.

"Speed Blackthorn. Affinity: Spirit. Bloodline: Unknown."

The murmurs this time were louder, filled with speculation and shock. *Unknown?* It was rare, almost unheard of, for the Orb to fail in identifying a bloodline. Even more so for someone who wielded a rare and ancient magic like Spirit.

Speed stepped back, his face composed despite the unease stirring in the crowd. He didn't fully understand what it meant, but he could feel the questions hanging in the air like a heavy cloud.

Then, another figure stepped forward—Prince James of Saptar. His stride was confident, his princely demeanor commanding attention. When he placed his hand on the Orb, it crackled with golden lightning, illuminating the chamber with its brilliance.

"James Arendell. Affinity: Thunder. Bloodline: The Royal House of Saptar."

The announcement was met with a hushed reverence, the room seemingly holding its breath at the confirmation of his status as a wielder of one of the rarest elements.

When the final student had been identified, Principal Eldarion stepped forward once more. "Your identities have been recorded," he said, his voice grave. "What you do with them, however, is up to you. Let this moment serve as a reminder of where you begin—and how far you have yet to go."

The group of students, now noticeably smaller after the elimination, followed the Blondies down a series of winding corridors. The light in the hallways began to dim as they went deeper into the heart of Demiri, the walls closing in with an almost suffocating air. The serene demeanor of the Blondies offered no hint of explanation, their ivory robes glowing faintly in the faint magical luminescence.

At last, they reached a set of towering black doors, their surface etched with jagged runes that seemed to pulse faintly, like a heartbeat. The Blondies paused, their golden hair catching the faint glow of the runes as one of them turned to address the group. "This is the Chamber of Suppression," they said, their voice calm yet carrying an unspoken warning. "Its purpose is to test your resilience—your ability to endure and adapt when your power is stripped from you."

The students exchanged nervous glances, some muttering under their breath. Speed felt the tension rise around him, his own chest tightening as unease crept in. The Blondie gestured toward the doors, which creaked open with a low, ominous groan.

The chamber beyond was unlike anything Speed had ever seen. It was vast and dark, with walls of cold obsidian that seemed to absorb all light. Strange sigils glowed faintly across the floor, their patterns shifting like restless shadows. But what struck Speed immediately was the aura—a heavy, oppressive energy that pressed down on him the moment he stepped inside. It wasn't just in the air; it was in his very soul, wrapping around him like chains, tightening with every step.

Some of the students gasped audibly, clutching at their chests as if the very breath was being forced from their lungs. Magic, which had once flowed so easily, now felt distant, almost unreachable, as though the chamber itself was actively suppressing their connection to it.

Speed staggered slightly, his hands instinctively curling into fists as he fought against the invisible pressure. His Spirit magic, usually a steady presence humming within him, now felt muted, as if drowned beneath an overwhelming weight.

"The Chamber of Suppression was built to simulate the harshest of conditions," one of the Blondies explained, their voice echoing eerily through the space. "In battle, you may encounter environments or foes that disrupt your abilities. You must learn to rely not only on your magic but on your wits, your instincts, and your will."

The students were directed to spread out across the chamber, each finding a place among the glowing sigils. The runes beneath their feet reacted to their presence, flaring briefly before dimming, as though acknowledging their arrival. The aura grew heavier, the air thicker, the silence deafening save for the labored breathing of the students.

Speed gritted his teeth, his heart pounding as he dropped to one knee. It felt as though he were being suffocated, the suppression aura clawing at him like an unseen predator. But even in the darkness, even under the weight of the chamber's oppressive energy, a flicker of resolve burned within him. He had endured ridicule, hardship, and the unknown before. He would endure this too.

Among the students, faint cries and whispers echoed as some struggled to remain upright. Speed noticed James, the Prince of Saptar, standing tall despite the strain, his face a mask of calm focus. Around the room, others fell to their knees, their courage crumbling beneath the chamber's unrelenting aura.

In the shadows above, hidden from view, the Guild Leaders watched silently, their expressions unreadable. Cassey, from the Shadow Warrior Guild, leaned forward slightly, her keen eyes narrowing as she studied Speed's every move. "Let's see what he's made of," she murmured under her breath.