Exam - 1 Day One Starts

The gates to the Grand Harmonium Coliseum opened with a groan that felt older than the city itself.

Inside, the chaos transformed. The wild buzz of the outer courtyard became a focused hum, like the breath held before a spell was cast. Hundreds of applicants poured through the rune-etched archways, each of them a bundle of nerves, excitement, and in a few unfortunate cases, highly combustible warding glyphs.

The entry hall was a sprawling rotunda with arching ceilings painted in magical frescoes that shifted with the light—depicting past entrance exam winners, famous Academy duels, and one suspiciously dramatic recreation of a tea-brewing competition that allegedly ended in dimensional collapse.

In the center of it all stood a crystalline obelisk, rotating lazily, displaying names and room assignments in glowing blue script. Occasionally, it buzzed, flickered, and updated mid-scroll to correct a last-minute placement—or to remove a name.

A few students pretended not to notice when that happened.

Branching out from the rotunda were five primary exam wings, each glowing faintly with a distinct hue and held in place with thick pylons of enchanted alloy and obsidian. Above each archway, illusory signage rotated with holographic glyphs and pictographic icons:

Section A: Theoretical Constructs & Magical Theory — lined with modular lecture pods and think-tanks, this wing was more lab than classroom. Desks floated between panes of living glass. Projectors displayed logic grids, spell syntax matrices, and live mana-thread manipulation exercises. Candidates sat surrounded by levitating scrolls and pulsing arrays as they solved equations under strict mental stress protocols. All thinking. No room for flair.

Section B: Applied Magic & Resonance Control — a labyrinth of isolated spell-testing chambers built like miniature holodecks, with adaptive magical terrain. Firewalls, wind tunnels, floating platforms, and liquid aether basins rotated in and out. Arcane drones recorded every gesture, glyph formation, and energy burst. Precision mattered here more than power.

Section C: Warrior and Physical Combat Training — this wing was all movement and mayhem. Platforms rose and dropped from floor to ceiling on demand. Combat runways adjusted gravity, speed, and terrain. Rune-sealed sparring dummies reacted with AI enchantments, while mana-tracking wearables fed data to overhead observers. Duelists sparred with instructors behind invisibility curtains to test reaction rather than memory.

Section D: Technomancy & Alchemical Engineering — something between a workshop and a command bridge. Tables buzzed with electrical sigils and power crystals. Steam hissed from embedded vents. Students were already elbow-deep in proto-machinery, calibrating aether cores or rewiring crystal resonance conduits. Alchemy pits bubbled with concoctions. One student accidentally set their gloves on fire and calmly dipped them into a cooling basin labeled "Use Only If On Fire."

Section E: Specializations & Miscellaneous Trials — this one was chaos incarnate. Beast taming pens, transmutation ranges, illusion arenas, and even a karaoke-like ritual incantation booth. No two tests were the same. One corner glowed with celestial scripts for divination candidates, another hummed with forest simulation enchantments for druidic hopefuls. A sand pit labeled "Necromancy Lite: One Bone Only" had a surprising number of participants.

Amid the crowd, the royals and elite made their presence loudly, expensively known. One noble heir wore enchanted formalwear that glittered with the House crest every three seconds. Another's entourage cleared a path through the main walkway by the sheer power of polished posture and nose elevation.

"Honestly," one girl drawled, waving off a floating assistant as it adjusted her braid, "if they don't at least offer champagne after the glyph test, I'm going to report it as cultural disrespect."

A few of them had bodyguards disguised as overly muscular cousins. A few just brought actual bards to announce their entry. One candidate arrived riding a three-headed gryphon.

Then there were the level-headed ones—privileged, but not obnoxious. A tall boy in House Tolen robes offered to share his exam prep notes with a nearby nervous candidate. "We all get one shot at this," he said with a shrug. "Might as well level the field a little."

Another girl, House-adjacent but not directly involved, ignored the performance of the others entirely and reviewed her exam glyphs with quiet concentration. Her companion raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to network before the trials?"

She responded without looking up. "I came to pass, not to parade."

Among the wave of incoming hopefuls, Vinya Relan elbowed her way through a crowd of enchanted luggage carts with the same determination she applied to her spell encryption. Her pack was strapped tight to her back, charm pouches jangling against a bandolier she'd stitched together from three different guild hand-me-downs. Her boots were scuffed. Her focus was diamond.

She squinted up at the obelisk.

"Vinya Relan. Section D. Room Twelve."

She nodded, mostly to herself. "Alright. Just don't explode anything. Until after you're admitted."

To her left, a nervous boy tripped over his cloak, caught himself mid-fall with a very decent windburst—and was immediately applauded by three rogue scout recruiters leaning against the wall like this was all just entertainment. Which, to be fair, it was.

Further ahead, Elsha Marr took her time. She walked slowly, deliberately, sipping something mildly glowing from a thermos and muttering notes to herself. She looked more like she was preparing for a chemistry pitch than a magical gauntlet.

When someone bumped into her, she blinked at them with mild confusion.

"Oh. You're real. Sorry, I've been rehearsing my neutral expression for the entire exam."

The kid backed away slowly.

Elsewhere, Narek Zin stepped into the entry hall, looked up at the rotating obelisk, and said softly to the floor beneath him, "We made it. Now let's not get eaten by any structural enchantments, yeah?"

The marble pulsed. Narek smiled faintly. That counted as agreement.

At one of the more crowded gate terminals, Lorrin Seft struggled to drag a rolling crate filled with arcane chalk, inscribed slates, and a lantern that wouldn't turn off.

She looked exhausted. But also mildly victorious.

"I don't care if I get in or not," she said to no one in particular. "I just want to pass out on a surface that isn't vibrating with protective wards."

A few students nodded in solemn agreement.

The Coliseum's internal system had already begun organizing candidates. Every wing of the arena floor was restructured to host different entry trials—mana aptitude, logical puzzles, practical applications, dueling forms, and in some cases, specialized niche trials like "Summoning Etiquette" or "Advanced Elemental Bribery."

A floating announcer orb drifted down from the ceiling.

"Welcome, candidates! Please proceed to your assigned sections. Reminder: unsanctioned spellcasting will be met with containment, applause, or both, depending on execution."

The candidates filtered in.

And somewhere in the center viewing box, hidden behind one-way arcane glass, Alex stood watching it all unfold.

No notes this time. No ledger.

Just observation.

Because now, it had begun.