The morning was warm and bright. Kez was leaning against the periphery gate wall, looking bored, annoyed and contemplating his new plan as well as his new character.
Students crowded the entrance in knots—laughing, comparing schedule tablets, adjusting too-stiff uniforms. Some were obviously returners, walking with ease, backpacks slung over one shoulder. Others looked brand new, clutching papers or glancing around like they might vanish if they breathed too loud.
Everyone had that quiet intensity to them. Polished boots. Shimmering crests sewn onto collars. Eyes that sparkled from new expectations and hope.
Kez, by contrast, looked sleep deprived, worn the same shirt as yesterday, and looked pretty much deprived of life. His stomach was also gurgling pretty bad after his...feast from last night. He hadn't meant to come early. He pretty much got dragged here by Sohan who left right after dropping him off.
A group of three cadets passed nearby. One of them, a tall girl with braided silver hair, did a slight double-take at Kez. "Hey, weren't you at that party last night?" she asked, nudging the boy beside her.
"No, I was actually hanging out with my good friend Jeremy Colbin. Of course, I was at the party. What do you think?" he said with an irritated expression, then looked away before she could say anything else. He didn't want conversation. He just wanted to fade into the brick.
The gates finally opened with a deep, resonant sound, like stone shifting under pressure. The air changed, sharpened. The crowd surged forward in a slow, awed wave. Kez followed, slipping between a group of nervous first-years who looked about twelve.
Inside, the main courtyard opened up into a wide plaza surrounded by monolithic towers, their surfaces reflecting a blend of stone and glass. Magical glyphs drifted lazily above the towers, displaying announcements in looping, cursive light:
Welcome to TROP | Orientation Begins at 0900 | Guest Exhibition at Noon.
In the center of the courtyard, floating maybe ten feet above ground, was a silver ring. It rotated soundlessly, held in place by nothing. Every so often it shimmered, and a faint outline of a sword would pulse across its surface.
Kez didn't know what it did. He didn't really care.
Tables had been laid out beneath white canopy tents: registration, uniform fittings, and, most importantly, food.
But that did not cheer him up at all. Instead, he felt like vomiting. He felt like he already consumed enough food to survive a century.
He turned away from the table.
The plaza around him buzzed louder now, voices rising and falling in bursts of laughs, greetings, footsteps echoing against enchanted stone. First-years jostled past him, clinging to pamphlets and schedules like life rafts. Upperclassmen leaned against the pillars or stood in formation near the towers, already marking their territory with easy confidence. Even the buildings seemed alive, humming faintly with power, like the walls themselves were aware of who belonged and who didn't.
'Enough with moping around. Let's go do what I actually need to.' Kez thought to himself.
"YAHHHH!!!!" he yelled out, trying to cheer himself up, which attracted weird stares from bunch of people around him.
'Back in the game...'
The registration tent wasn't hard to find. It sat dead center in the plaza like a bureaucratic spiderweb, staffed by bored-looking officials in gray robes and ringed with long lines of students who all seemed way too excited to be catalogued.
He moved toward the center tent, where a large banner spelled out REGISTRATION in flickering golden text.
The line was surprisingly short now. Kez joined the back of it, glancing around at the others ahead to find some shifting nervously, others looking like they were trying to suppress smiles.
The clerk at the desk looked like he'd been doing this job for far too long. Late thirties, maybe forties. Messy brown hair, dark bags under his eyes, and a uniform shirt that hadn't been ironed since the last administration. He didn't even look up when Kez stepped forward.
"Name?" the man asked, scrolling through a glowing list on his tablet.
"Fi… uh. Kez, Kez Jolkev" Kez said, forcing the last name out a bit too quickly.
The man paused. "Fikuz Jokv?"
"What? No, no. Kez. Jolkev."
The clerk sighed and tapped a few things on the screen. "External transfer. Late entry. No previous rank data. No specialty field logged. No file photo. Give me your ID."
Kez scratched his head a little and shrugged. "Well...so crazy thing...Last night, I was attacked by an unknown individual for absolutely no reason, and he stole my ID."
The clerk finally looked up from his tablet, giving Kez a long, unimpressed stare. "You came to TROP without an ID?"
"WHAT!? What kind of accusation is that? As I said someone stole it from me last night." Kez protested with outrage.
People were starting to gather around them to see what was going on. Those who remembered him from last night were telling others about his...legend.
The man leaned back in his seat, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and sighed like this was the third time today someone had told him this exact scenario. "Alright. No ID, no records, no transfer slip. You're lucky your name's actually on the intake list."
"It is?" Kez asked, surprised.
"Why do you seem so surprised about that. Sigh, where do people like you even come from?" the clerk said, then jabbed a finger at a crystal orb embedded in the desk between them. "Fine. We'll just verify your identity through this. Put your hand gently on the orb. It reads your mana passively."
"Doesn't sound too difficult..." he stepped forward, grabbed the orb and squeezed.
"Stop—" the clerk said, startled.
Too late.
There was a sharp crack, followed by a horrible crystalline crunch, like stepping on frozen glass. A faint bzzzzt noise sparked through the air, and then—
Shatter.
The orb broke.
It didn't explode. It didn't glow or pulse with magical feedback. It just crumbled. Quietly. Pathetically. Splinters of delicate crystal scattered across the desk in every direction, leaving a small pile of enchanted dust and the awkward sound of several dozen people sucking in a breath at the same time.
Kez stood there frozen, fingers still curled around what was now nothing.
"…Okay so I am guessing these are one-time use orb?" he asked with a nervous smile.
The clerk stared at the ruined pieces. Then up at Kez. Then back down.
"That orb," he said slowly, "was imported from Valoria kingdom. Handmade. Costs more than your tuition. It is specifically designed to read ambient mana signatures through passive contact. Passive. Contact."
Kez lifted his hands like a suspect in a crime scene. "Okay, but in my defense… it didn't come with instructions."
"You squeezed it!!!"
"Tha-that's how it goes in the movies...fuck I thought it needed pressure. Y'know. Like a little handshake. Mayb-maybe it was defective to begin with."
"It was a fragile magical relay device, not some stress ball!!! Of course, it was gonna break if you squeeze it like you are aiming to murder the little thing."
More students had gathered now. Some were laughing outright. Others whispered furiously, pointing. A second-year in the back muttered, "Did he just crush a mana reader? Who does that?"
Kez stepped back from the desk slowly, as if retreating from a crime he absolutely committed. "Sounds like something you need to take it up to them Valorian people. Sooo...what now?"
The clerk didn't answer. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like a curse and just reached under the table, pulled out a flat gray stone slab, and slammed it onto the desk with the exhausted grace of a man who had already lived through worse.
"Okay so I understand that you are mad, but I can assure you that bashing my head with that rock won't solve the issue."
"I am well aware" the clerk said, barely maintaining his temper, "that this rock is not for your head. It's the fallback mana conduit. No enchantments, no fragile components, and absolutely no room for dumb decisions. This will also display your affinities. Can you manifest mana?"
"Do what now?"
"MANIFEST!!! You know like...ugh, why am I even asking this? I doubt even the top ten first years can do that. Sorry, I can't help you without an ID."
Kez straightened up, brow furrowing in offense. "Whoa, slow down there Mr. Assumptionist. I can manifest mana."
The clerk slowly turned to him, eyes narrowing. "You can… manifest."
"Yes."
"With no training."
"I'm self-taught."
"You look like you've been awake for 48 hours and live in a stairwell."
"Cause some guy beat me up and stole my ID last night. I told you already. Just let me try."
The clerk pinched the bridge of his nose like he was holding back a migraine that had been building for years. "I am this close to putting you on a watchlist," he said, holding up two fingers so close they may as well have been one. "Fine. Go ahead. Knock yourself out. Literally, if needed. Just place your hand on the stone and manifest your mana."
Kez peered at it. "Sooo this one...doesn't read passively?"
"No," the clerk said darkly. "This one requires active manifestation. You need to channel mana into it. No contact sensing. No shortcuts. You either do it, or you don't."
Kez hesitated. "So if I squeeze this one, nothi—"
"I will end you."
"Got it."
He took a breath and placed his hand on the slab. It was cold, matte, and totally unimpressed with him. The stone remained dark.
He glanced around. The line had nearly doubled. People were openly watching now, whispering to each other, some pointing. A few had even started filming.
A girl in uniform leaned toward her friend and whispered, "Isn't he a first year? How can he even manifest mana?"
The other girl snorted. "He's probably just trying to break this one too."
Someone in the back giggled. The sound was sharp and carried. Kez tried not to lose focus.
He tried to think back to when he channeled mana to consume his skill book. He tried to imagine some element mana in his body and tried to move them towards his hand. Surprisingly, it worked.
A faint red glow spread from beneath his hand. It wasn't strong. It wasn't graceful. But it was real.
The clerk blinked.
Someone in the back let out a low "whoa."
The glow wavered but held.
The clerk turned back to his screen, stared at the incoming data. "Mana signature detected… raw, unstable… source unknown. Honestly questionable. But… it's there. As for your affinities...wait what..."
The clerk suddenly paused and stared at the screen.
Still.
Not typing. Not talking. Just… staring.
Kez leaned forward a little. "Is… something wrong?"
No response.
The clerk's brow twitched slightly. His eyes kept tracking whatever was scrolling past on the screen. The expression on his face was unreadable, but intense.
The students watching fell quiet. Even the ones who had been whispering before were now holding their breath. The girl in uniform nudged her friend and whispered, "Wait. Don't tell me he's—"
Kez's brain jumped ahead of itself.
Affinities... right. That meant which elements someone could use best.
He remembered reading about it in the novel. Technically, with enough training and raw mana, anyone could force a spell from any element. But that didn't mean it would be efficient. In real combat, what mattered was your affinity—the element that responded to you naturally, like your mana already understood it.
Most people had a dominant affinity. Just one. Say, someone had 80 percent Fire, 15 percent Earth, a little Wind, maybe a drop of Water—that kind of breakdown. That main element was called your type, and it shaped how you fought, how you moved, even how your mana felt to others.
Some people had two strong affinities, which made them more flexible in battle. Not necessarily stronger but just harder to predict. Having too many could also make your mana unstable, like it didn't know what it wanted to be. Sometimes, people had many similar percentages of affinities which was a curse because different affinities could sometimes work to cancel each other like fire and water. One would usually want one dominant affinity or mix of affinities that could be combined.
Then there were the extended affinities—like Lightning, Ice, Metal, or Plant. Those weren't standalone types on their own. They branched off the main four. Lightning was usually born from high Fire and Wind ratios. Ice came from Water and a trace of Wind. Metal was a more focused form of Earth. Plant sometimes emerged from a balance between Earth and Water.
But then there were the special cases. Light. Dark. The rarest affinities.
They didn't come from combinations. They didn't branch off anything.
They just were.
If someone had either?
They weren't just strong.
They were terrifying.
Kez held his breath. Maybe... maybe this was it.
'Okay. Alright. Calm down. This is probably normal. But what if it's not. What if… what if it's Light? I can go back to the first route that way. No, I can probably pick even a better route.'
He felt his heartbeat pick up.
Or Dark. Maybe it was Dark. The affinity that was theoretically the strongest in this world. That would explain a lot. The constantly terrible luck. He started nodding slowly, like the pieces were all falling into place. I don't even have to stick to a route with this affinity.
"I… I got something rare, didn't I?" he asked, voice low, reverent.
The clerk said nothing.
Kez leaned in further. "It's Light. Isn't it? No—wait. It's Dark. I knew it. That explains all. The—"
The clerk raised a single hand without looking up. "It's Wind."
Kez froze. "...Wind?"
"And a minor affinity with Fire."
The silence was shattered by a short, barely stifled snort from somewhere behind him.
The clerk finally looked up, his tone flat as the desk. "Your mana profile shows a primary Wind affinity. High levels. Mostly unrefined. No shaping structure. You wouldn't be able to levitate a scarf at this stage."
Kez looked like someone had just popped his birthday balloon.
The clerk continued. "You also have a slight resonance with Fire. Trace-level. Probably the result of a flare reaction. Might help if you ever try a combustion spell, but you'll burn your own eyebrows off if you're not careful."
"Wait, but… Wind?" Kez repeated, confused. "What does Wind even do?"
The clerk sighed. "Mobility. Directional control. Some pressure-based applications. People with Wind affinity tend to specialize in support, mobility magic, projectile guidance, evasive fighting styles. You likely won't be tossing fireballs. Think more… gusty."
Someone in the crowd muttered, "He's gonna end up as a glorified leaf blower."
Kez turned and shot a finger toward the voice. "I will launch you into orbit the moment I learn how!"
The clerk cleared his throat. "You're also unstable. Your mana channels show poor alignment. It's as if your mana channels are brand new. This is very unusual. You're using some weird mana channels. How did you even manifest mana?"
Kez let out a breath and shrugged. "I don't fucking know..." Then, loud enough for the crowd to hear, he added, "Well, at least it isn't Water."
The reaction was immediate.
A sharp intake of breath came from someone a few spots behind him in the line. A boy about Kez's age—moderately chubby, tense, and still clutching his fresh ID—stepped forward with a glare. His name tag read Neran Thale.
"Fuck you," he snapped.
Kez blinked, startled by how fast that came out.
The boy's fists were clenched. His badge shimmered faint blue. "You think you're better because you didn't get Water?"
"I mean…" Kez scratched his head awkwardly, "what can you even do with it other than splashing someone with it?"
But the guy was already turning away, shaking his head. "Every year. Some smug asshole thinks Water's a joke."
He shoved past the nearest student and stormed off, muttering curses as he disappeared around the corner of the desk.
The tension hung awkwardly for a second.
"What's his problem?" Kez asked confusedly.
Then someone near him mumbled, "Yeah... he probably just got Water."
Another voice followed, "Oof. Poor guy. It's rough when you find out you're support and not the main character."
A girl in the back added, "Water's not bad though. I mean, if you know how to use it."
"Sure," said another, "but imagine getting it and hearing that right after."
Kez sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well...what can I say, lying is just not in my nature."
The clerk didn't even look up. "I'm adding you to the staff watchlist."
Kez sighed. "Finally, some recognition around here."
Disregarding the statement, the clerk printed out an ID and shoved it across the desk.
Kez Jolkev - First Year
TPID: 900885598
Classroom 1
Level 0 Clearance
"Congratulations," the clerk said, voice bone dry. "You're a walking fan with a built-in lighter. Please don't burn down the uniform tent."
Kez took the card reluctantly. "So... not rare?"
"No."
"Not dangerous?"
"Only to yourself."
"Not even slightly chosen one-y?"
"Get out of my line."
Kez pocketed his ID and walked off, grumbling, "Still better than Water."
Someone in the crowd laughed. Someone else booed.
He sighed and shuffled toward the next station, ID in hand, shoulders just slightly hunched. "Wind," he muttered. "I bet it's pretty useful in summer"
Behind him, someone snorted and called out, "Not as useful as water. Bahahaha"
Kez did not look back.
He just kept walking towards the uniform tent, dragging his feet a little more than before.