Adam woke up as the first rays of the sun pierced through the window, casting a warm, golden glow across his face. The air within the room smelled faintly of trapped cedar, a scent that felt as old and heavy as the wooden walls themselves. He lay still for a moment, letting the lingering traces of sleep fade away. He had waited a long time for this specific dawn, for it marked his 10th birthday.

  "Finally." he whispered to the empty room where dust motes danced in the light like tiny, suspended spirits, their movements rhythmic and almost ritualistic in the heavy morning silence. His heart did not race because of the celebration or the change in his age. It was the threshold he was about to cross that mattered. To him, this day held a profound meaning that far surpassed the simple anticipation of a child.

  Today, he would finally begin his tutoring under Lord Ander. This was his first true step upon the arduous path of magic. A vivid memory surfaced of the first time he had witnessed the arcane. It was a simple display by a wanderer, a man who had turned out to be a Tier 1 mage. The performance was neither grand nor spectacular. Tier 1 mages rarely stood out from common mortals, save for their extended lifespans. Yet, the sheer beauty of the phenomenon had left him entranced. He had become obsessed with the concept of it. He could think of nothing else but mastering its secrets, and that long-awaited day had finally arrived. His parents were only humble merchants, yet they had somehow secured a Tier 2 mage to be his mentor. It was a feat of influence that most would kill to achieve.

  The mystery of how his parents had secured such an arrangement remained unsolved. Yet, the details were irrelevant. He was simply grateful for the reality of it.

  The familiar cadence of footsteps echoed from the hallway, vibrating softly against the dark wood of the floorboards even before the door creaked open. Caitlyn walked in, bringing with her the fresh fragrance of spring blossoms from the garden she so meticulously tended, a scent that cut through the dry morning air like a sudden breath of life. She was a tall woman, her golden, curly hair cascading down to her lower back in shimmering waves. Her emerald green eyes sparkled with affection as they settled upon him. Despite her age, she did not look a day over twenty. Her youth seemed perfectly preserved by exceptional health, or perhaps by the hidden strength of her lineage.

  "I see you are awake. How does my baby feel on this day?" she asked, her voice warm and melodic.

  "I am not a child anymore, Mom! I am turning ten and beginning my path to become a mage!" Adam protested. His small fist clenched at his side as the word Mage sent a jarring tremor through his spirit. To him, it was a title that held the promise of every wonder he had ever imagined, a key to the locked doors of the world.

  Her expression did not lose its warmth. Instead, her smile grew even wider as she watched his determination. "You will always be a baby in my eyes." she replied softly. "It does not matter how old you get or how great a mage you become."

  Adam looked at her and frowned slightly, though he could not hide the spark in his emerald eyes. "Fine. When will Lord Ander arrive, anyway?"

  "Get ready first and come downstairs for breakfast." she replied as she began to leave the room. "It is important that you have strength for your first day." She closed the door behind her, leaving him alone with his anticipation and the faint, lingering scent of lilies that always followed her, drifting like an ethereal veil.

  Adam walked to the window closest to him, the cool floorboards smooth beneath his bare feet. He watched the spring day wake up, the world greeting the dawn with him. Below, the garden was a vibrant sea of colors where his mother labored daily. It was not as grand as the royal grounds he had heard about in stories, but it was beautiful. One could see how much heart she poured into every blossom, as if weaving her own essence into the soil.

  He looked past the garden walls. The Middle Ring stretched out in every direction. Rows of similar houses with dark wooden frames and tiled roofs lined the orderly streets. This was the territory of merchants and lower nobility. It was a comfortable place to live. Yet, he disliked the distant Inner District where the highborn resided. He had only seen it from afar a few times. To him, it lacked something fundamental, a hollow space behind the gilded facades.

  Further away, the gray, jagged buildings of the slums broke the horizon. Lately, rumors about children disappearing from those streets had haunted the city like a foul, invisible smog, a darkness creeping through the alleyways. Most people in the Middle District did not care. They claimed it was simply how life worked there. Adam had a different opinion. To him, those children were no different than anyone else. It felt wrong. Their lives were treated as worthless just because of where they were born.

  Adam slapped his cheeks with both hands to sharpen his focus. He turned toward the wardrobe, which released a dry scent of aged cedar, and retrieved his attire for the day. He selected a black shirt and paired it with trousers of a similar dark hue, though they were a slightly lighter shade. The garments were simple and lacked any excessive ornamentation. However, the quality of the fabric was unmistakable. The material felt soft and expensive against his skin, a silent testament to his father's success as a merchant.

  He moved toward the mirror to inspect his reflection. A boy stood before him, measuring no more than 1.6 meters in height. He saw a youthful, masculine version of his mother staring back. His blonde, curly hair possessed a natural radiance. When the morning sunlight caught the strands, they shimmered like threads of liquid gold. His emerald green eyes were wide and bright. They were filled with a raw fervor that he could not suppress.

  His slim build and handsome features gave him a striking presence. The dark, contrasting tones of his clothes only added to his natural charm. A faint tremor took hold of his hands as he adjusted his collar. The anticipation was almost overwhelming, a physical weight in his chest. He took a shallow breath to calm his racing heart. "I am ready." he whispered to his own reflection.

  He descended toward the kitchen as the lower floor revealed itself to him. Much of the furniture was crafted from polished dark wood, carrying a faint scent of beeswax polish, giving the rooms a heavy and dignified atmosphere. Thick carpets muffled the sound of his footsteps, while crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling above. These were the things his mother loved so dearly. Each piece of decor was a testament to her taste and the family's comfort.

  His father sat at a dining table made of the same dark wood as the rest of the house. The man was deeply focused on his newspaper. He waited in silence for the breakfast his mother was currently finishing in the kitchen, while the aroma of sizzling butter and fresh eggs began to drift through the air.

  His father was a tall man, around 1.9 meters by Adam’s estimation. He possessed a slightly muscular build and short-cut, dark blonde hair. Combined with a face that looked as if it were sculpted from marble and a well-groomed moustache, it was clear exactly where Adam’s own good looks originated. He felt truly lucky to be their son.

  He smiled as he approached the table. "Good morning, Dad."

  Kristoff looked up from his newspaper and grinned. "I can tell you are excited for today. Hahaha, good! Sit down. Breakfast should be ready in a moment, right dear?"

  Instead of responding, his mother walked to the table with the steaming dishes in hand, her expression warm. She placed the food upon the heavy, dark wood and sat down to join them. "Let us eat. I hope it is good. It is my first time preparing this ‘omelette.’ I have heard they are quite delicious, though."

  Just before taking his first bite, Adam could not help but ask, "When will Lord Ander arrive?"

  His father looked at him. His expression turned serious, the lighthearted warmth of the morning replaced by a sudden, quiet gravity. "He should be here in an hour. Listen, Adam. You must have wondered how we managed to secure a tutor of his caliber, have you not?"

  Adam nodded. His mind raced through the hierarchy of mages. Tier 2. The only ones greater in this world were the Tier 3 mages. These were figures of immense standing such as kings, the heads of the most powerful noble houses, or the leaders of great institutions. There were very few of them, even across the vast expanse of the Seven Kingdoms. Tier 2 was just a single step behind that pinnacle. From what he had heard, Lord Ander was someone residing at the very peak of that level. There was even a chance he might one day reach the heights of Tier 3.

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  His father’s voice interrupted his train of thought. "The truth is, we could not have achieved this with money alone. We could sell everything we own, and it still would not be close to enough. Lord Ander was actually a childhood friend of your mother’s great-grandfather. Your great-great-grandfather."

  Adam stared at his father, completely shocked. A childhood friend of his great-great-grandfather? He could not even fathom the immense span of time that had passed since those days. He knew his parents were in their early thirties and that mages were granted long lives. Yet, this scale of history was beyond his imagination. It made the world feel much older and more mysterious, like a library filled with books whose languages had been forgotten.

  His father pulled him out of his shock. "Lord Ander has always looked after our family, checking each generation for the potential to become a mage. There was never anyone who possessed it until you were born. We still do not know how much potential you truly have. Even if it is only Tier 1, that would already be a monumental success." Kristoff smiled kindly at him after finishing his revelation.

  "I find it hard to eat after all that information, Dad."

  His father began to laugh. His mother soon joined in, her voice ringing with a warm, melodic quality. The sound of their mirth filled the quiet space of the dining room. "I suppose that is normal, but you have to eat, Adam. Treat it as your first step toward the path of a mage."

  A subtle vibration of anticipation took hold of Adam's limbs, lasting throughout the entire breakfast. It was a kind and warm time spent with his family, as it always was. The omelette was truly delicious, its flavor as rich as his mother had promised. Still, he felt every tick of the clock. Each second was a heavy beat, marking the slow crawl of time toward his destiny.

  Once the hour had passed, a light knock echoed through the house. The sound was sharp, vibrating against the heavy wood of the front door. His father got up and opened it. Through the doorway, Adam saw a man who stood a head shorter than Kristoff. By Adam’s quick estimation, the stranger reached about 1.75 meters. He possessed long, raven-black hair and an enormously long beard of the same dark hue. His face was handsome in a peculiar, striking way. Its most distinguishing feature was a pair of thick, bushy brows that gave him a look of eternal curiosity. He wore a long, dark brown robe that carried the faint, dry scent of old parchment and cold stone, an aroma that seemed to have been pulled from a forgotten tomb. The garment was stripped of any ornaments, yet the fabric hung with a certain weight and dignity. It fit him remarkably well, as if it had been fashioned for him alone.

  The man offered a kind smile. "Ho, long time no see, Kriss. I see you’ve grown quite tall."

  His father laughed heartily, the sound booming in the hallway. "Come, sit with us, Lord Ander. There is still plenty of food if you are hungry. I must say, this new Elvish ‘omelette’ is delicious."

  The mage's expression remained warm, crinkling the corners of his dark eyes. "Don’t mind any honorifics. You know I hate them. Call me Great Uncle Berto, as little Caitlyn does." He walked in and approached the table with a measured, steady gait. "You have grown into a beautiful woman, little Caitlyn. And this must be the Adam I’ve heard so much about, I assume."

  Lord Ander’s eyes locked onto Adam. They matched the raven-black of his hair. Adam could feel a fathomless well of secrets within them, like looking into a deep, starlit well where time itself had settled. Combined with the mage’s kind, scholarly aura, Adam’s respect for the man grew even more.

  His mother covered her mouth with her hand, a soft gesture of humility. "You honor me with these compliments, Uncle. And yes, this is our pride, Adam." she said, her expression warming the entire room.

  "I’m Adam Lightbleed, my Lord." Adam stood up and bowed with the utmost respect.

  "Bah! I told your father that I dislike all those honorifics and pompous titles. Call me Master Berto." the mage said as he took his seat.

  Adam looked at him and could not help but offer a small, genuine smile. "Okay, Master Berto."

  The man grinned. "Good! Now let me try this omelette of yours. I think I heard about it somewhere in the inner district, but I have to try it for myself."

  His mother served another portion. They all immersed themselves in the meal, the simple act of eating becoming a moment of shared peace. "It truly is delicious, as expected of Elves." Berto laughed after making his portion disappear in seconds.

  Adam was truly surprised by the day’s turn of events. He never would have thought a distinguished Tier 2 mage would be a family friend, acting with the casual warmth of an uncle visiting for tea.

  His new teacher looked at him, his eyes sharpening with intent. "Okay, Adam. We’ve filled our bellies, so it’s time to test your aptitude. Don’t worry though if it turns out to be Tier 1. I will guide you regardless of the outcome. Let us proceed to this beautiful garden of yours where I will explain everything."

  He stood up and left for the garden with Master Berto. His parents remained at the table, their faces glowing with pride. Adam felt the weight of their love. He truly had the greatest parents.

  They walked to a blossoming tree situated behind the vibrant flower beds. The exquisite scent of the blossoms filled the garden air, thick and sweet enough to taste. Berto sat down under the tree, his brown robes spreading over the grass like a shadow merging with the earth. He gestured for Adam to do the same.

  "Let me begin by introducing a few basic pieces of information you should know." Berto started. His voice had taken on a resonant, teacherly quality, carrying a weight that seemed to silence the garden. "First of all, to learn magic is to learn everything that surrounds you. As you must know already, mana creates all life and matter. To progress as a mage, you must start asking questions. Why? How? You must try to work through them. To channel even the simplest spells is to understand their mechanics in the first place."

  The mage looked at the raven-black hair of his own beard for a moment, lost in thought. "Many magi believe that knowledge is the key to power and that only power matters. I believe otherwise. Knowledge is the foundation required to understand even greater concepts. Those are the truths that will bring you closer to mana itself."

  Adam looked at Berto, his mind processing the heavy weight of the man's words. He was interrupted when the mage continued.

  "I will teach you everything. Even what might seem unrelated to magic at a glance, for there is never too much to know. We will learn geography, politics, and many other subjects. You must also remember that when it comes to opinions on certain arcane concepts, you are encouraged to have your own view."

  "I understand, Master Berto. I have always loved magic because of an inner need to explore and understand it, not just for the sake of power. I will do my best to learn everything you throw at me." Adam said. He looked seriously at his teacher. There was a certain passion in his eyes, a fire that seemed to grow with every passing moment.

  The mage laughed heartily. "Good, very good! Let us start then by officially testing your aptitude." He reached under his robes and pulled out a strange-looking stone. It possessed a texture that seemed to absorb the surrounding light, a fragment of solidified darkness.

  Adam looked at the object curiously. He had not been told exactly how aptitude was tested. He had not known what to expect, but it certainly was not this unremarkable yet heavy piece of stone. "How exactly does it work?" he asked.

  "That’s a great question to ask, Adam." Berto responded, moving the stone closer. "It makes mana flow through your body with a certain strain, increasing the pressure every time you pass a threshold. It starts by confirming if you can even become a mage, which we already know you can. After that, it checks for Tier 2 and Tier 3 potential. You can tell how far you have reached by the glow of the stone. Tier 1 is a dim orange. It then proceeds to a bright orange, and lastly, a pure white. It will make you feel tired, but there is nothing to fear beyond that. So, do you want to try?"

  Adam looked at the stone with overwhelming amounts of emotion passing through him. After a long moment, the turbulence in his heart settled into a cold, pure determination. "I want to see where my potential lies, Master." He reached out and took the object from his teacher's hand, the small artifact that would determine the course of his future. The stone was warm to the touch and felt slightly rough against his palm. Almost immediately, he felt something deep within his being start to resonate with the object. It was an otherworldly sensation, a rhythmic pulse that he had never experienced before, as if a second heart had begun to beat within his chest, echoing the heartbeat of the world itself. The feeling grew stronger with every passing moment, yet he did not encounter the discomfort Berto had warned him about.

  After a few heartbeats, the stone underwent a sudden transformation, turning into a shade of pure, absolute white. Adam stared at it in shock. "Pure white… that means I have potential for Tier 3, right Master?" He looked toward his teacher, expecting to see a reflection of his own joy. Instead, he found a face carved with a terrifyingly serious expression, the shadows under the tree suddenly feeling colder and more oppressive. Adam felt a flicker of confusion. He was not sure why his mentor looked so grim, wondering if possessing such immense potential was not a blessing but a burden he was not yet ready to carry.