After a fortnight, Noel's awakening was finally complete.
At Duke Edmund Vallis' command, the family healer and a magician arrived to assess his condition.
A round, aqua-blue crystal rested on his desk, pulsing faintly, casting shifting light across the polished wood.
"So this will determine everything…"
This wasn't just a formality. The crystal didn't just confirm his awakening—it measured potential. Training could sharpen skill, but the first awakening was the foundation of a mage's future. A failed awakening meant a lifetime without magic.
The magician took a step forward, his voice calm but authoritative. "Young Master Noel, please place your hand on the crystal."
Noel exhaled and reached out
And suddenly
The world shifted.
A grand hall stretched around him, lined with towering bookshelves overflowing with ancient tomes. The air smelled of parchment and candlewax. At the center of the chamber, a massive floating crystal, identical to the one before him, pulsed with power.
"Focus."
The deep voice echoed around him. He turned toward it, but the speaker's face was lost in a haze of fractured memory.
"Magic is not something you wield—it is something you become. Let it flow through you."
He lifted his hand toward the crystal.
In the real world, his fingers brushed the smooth surface of the one before him.
The two moments blurred together.
The crystal should have reacted.
It should have glowed.
But instead—
Nothing.
The crystal sat, dull and lifeless.
A thick silence filled the room.
The healer frowned. The magician's expression barely changed, but the slight crease in his brow betrayed his surprise. Even the servants, standing discreetly near the door, stiffened.
Noel's heart pounded. No. This can't be right.
He still felt it—that strange pressure in his veins, the lingering energy from his dreams. He had awakened. He knew it.
Then why?
The magician finally spoke, his tone carefully neutral. "…Young Master, it seems the awakening has not been successful."
The words landed like a punch to the gut.
Noel's breath hitched. A failure?
His father Duke Vallis had never tolerated weakness. A son of House Vallis with no magic? It was unthinkable.
The healer cleared his throat. "Perhaps… a delayed reaction? Or a rare condition?" His voice was uncertain, grasping at explanations.
Noel barely heard him. He clenched his fists beneath the table, nails digging into his palms.
"No. This isn't right. I know I awakened. I felt it."
His mind raced back to the dream—to the floating crystal, the pulsing energy, the voice that had guided him. That place had felt more real than this room.
Then why?
If the crystal didn't glow…
Then what had happened to him?