Chapter 39 – The Presentation of a Prodigy

At dawn, when the palace grounds were still shrouded in soft light and the scent of dew hung in the air, Elara's dormitory room was already alive with motion. Sylv entered with her characteristic whirlwind energy, her sapphire eyes alight with excitement. "Get up, Elara! Today's the day!"

Elara, composed even upon waking, opened one eye and murmured, "You're making this sound like a coronation."

"It might as well be," Lyria added from across the room. Her hair had been meticulously styled into sleek twin braids. "The entire academy is abuzz. Your presentation is all anyone's talking about."

Sylv pulled open the curtains with a dramatic flair. "Half the city will be there. Even the instructors are nervous."

Elara sighed and sat up, her demeanor serene. "I've spent a month preparing. I'm not worried."

Despite her nonchalance, she allowed herself to be transformed. Lyria took charge of her hair, sculpting it into an elaborate cascading braid interlaced with rune-inscribed silver filigree pins. Sylv handled the cosmetics—a light base, subtle blush, and a pale gloss. The moment they stepped back, Sylv's expression twisted into disbelief.

"You look more radiant without it," she whispered. "How can makeup make you look less perfect?"

Elara blinked, a bemused expression settling on her face. "Should I be offended or flattered?"

"Offended," Sylv muttered.

Her ensemble for the presentation was meticulously chosen to balance academic decorum and understated allure: a form-fitted garnet blazer with mana-thread embroidery, a matching high-waisted skirt tailored just above the knee, and a pearl-white blouse with a soft ruffled neckline and translucent sleeves. Around her neck, a thin platinum chain bore a single polished opal. Completing the look were her signature stiletto heels—rose-gold, with high-arched design and rune-etched jewel buckles at the ankles.

By the time she was dressed, only thirty minutes remained. Elara strode confidently from the dormitory, her steps a rhythmic staccato echo of determination.

The central presentation hall—an amphitheater capable of seating hundreds—was filled to capacity. Whispers ceased the moment Elara entered. Her presence seemed to still the air.

She walked to the podium with the poise of a royal envoy. Not a whisper remained as she faced the audience.

"Good morning," she began, her voice measured and resonant. "My name is Elara Wyrmshade. Today, I present to you my first year project: The Solar Mana Sprinkler System."

At her signal, academy aides unveiled the device: a polished metallic construct standing waist-high, its top composed of petal-shaped solar collectors arranged radially around a central mana crystal encased in a transparent core housing.

"This apparatus converts solar radiation into useable mana via photo-mana conversion arrays. The petals are inscribed with directional Support Runes that refine light into a stable charge. Energy is collected in a synthetic diamond capacitor with layer-graded mana channels to reduce dissipation."

She gestured gracefully to the runes. "Upon reaching operational threshold, the device initiates an atmospheric condensation protocol. Humidity is drawn via inverse-pressure runic funnels, then processed into liquid through a dual-phase cooling matrix. The result: micro-irrigation at a sustainable rate."

A thud sounded in the audience. A student had fainted—his eyes had lingered too long as Elara, with effortless grace, turned to the blackboard. Perhaps it was the sharp click of her heels, or perhaps the way her skirt framed her movements with poised elegance—but whatever the cause, his consciousness fled. No one looked away from Elara.

With precision, she approached the blackboard, her back briefly to the crowd, entirely unaware of the havoc her posture had just wrought. She began diagramming: detailed vector diagrams, thermal efficiency matrices, and mana conduction efficiency curves. Her hand moved methodically, every line drawn with deliberate clarity.

"Under typical solar intensity, the system generates approximately 3.2 usable mana units per hour, assuming 14.2% conversion efficiency. The condensation output correlates to 1.7 liters of water per hour per device. Empirical tests confirm thermal output reduces localized air temperature by 0.6°C. This effect is non-cumulative unless density exceeds four units per square kilometer."

She paused to underline a key figure. "At five units per square kilometer, humidity destabilization occurs, risking microclimate disruption. Long-term use in over-saturated grids could lead to detrimental atmospheric desiccation."

Then came the formulae—rendered with the fluency of someone who not only understood every symbol but had invented half of them. The audience was enraptured.

Concluding, she stepped back from the board and offered a composed bow. "Thank you for your attention."

The silence that followed was not from indifference, but reverence.

Then, slowly, applause began—first from the professors, then students, then administrators. It built like a wave, rising into a thunderous ovation that lasted a full five minutes.

The sprinkler system was then transported via hover carriage to the agricultural testing grounds beyond the city. On-site, Elara activated the device under direct sunlight. As the petals unfolded and mana surged into its array, the device emitted a low hum. Moments later, a shimmering mist sprayed outward in a precise arc.

Inspectors watched in stunned silence. No flaws. No malfunctions. Just a seamless application of magical and mechanical synthesis.

"That's a paradigm shift," one murmured.

Elara, internally calm but silently relieved, observed the results with the eye of an engineer.

That evening, she returned to her dorm. Exhausted, she shed her heels, undid her hair, and lay back on the bed.

Today was not merely a test.

It was proof.

She was no longer simply the most brilliant student in the academy.

She was an architect of the future.