Chapter 2 Magic Test
1640 Words
The Next Day
The next day, Vincent was surprised to find that his father didn’t go about his usual routine of running the tavern. Instead, he called for a carriage and said, “Get on, quickly. We’re going to the Magic Association in Lars City to test your magical potential.”
Vincent was stunned at first, then overjoyed. He quickly jumped into the carriage. His father then instructed the coachman to head for Lars City.
On the road, Vincent’s father told him, “If the test shows you have magical potential and can become a mage, then no matter what it takes, I’ll make sure you get the chance to learn. But if the results show otherwise, you’ll come home and honestly learn the brewing craft. Understood?” Vincent agreed.
The coachman was clearly experienced—he knew the journey to Lars City was about 200 kilometers through rugged terrain. But he also knew shortcuts and better roads, reducing what would normally take four days and nights to just three.
Arrival at Lars City
When they finally arrived, Vincent—visiting another city for the first time—was dazzled by its bustling streets. Nobles, commoners, mercenaries, and even mages mingled in the crowds. Luxurious carriages raced by, and market stalls displayed a stunning variety of goods—greatswords, magical crystals, staffs, and brightly colored robes that he had never seen sold in Whitecloud.
“Vincent, what are you standing there for? Come on, help me find the Magic Association,” his father called, snapping him out of his awe and leading him forward.
In truth, Vincent’s father didn’t know where the Magic Association was either—it was his first time in Lars City too. After asking around, they finally found the right way.
The Magic Association building was easy to recognize—first, it had the words “Magic Association” emblazoned on it in large letters. Second, it was one of the largest and most well-known buildings in the city. And third, two apprentice mages stood guard at the entrance.
Coincidentally, today was a scheduled testing day, and many children Vincent’s age had gathered there to be evaluated.
Testing Begins
The Association had strict rules: only registered mages, approved personnel, or students scheduled for testing were allowed inside. As such, Vincent’s father had to remain outside while Vincent entered alone.
The Magic Association held three large-scale testing events per year. The first step was to test for magical resonance—whether a candidate could even learn magic. Only after that came the elemental affinity tests. Most candidates showed little to no resonance, which explained why mages were so rare. Those who did qualify usually only aligned with one element. Multiple affinities were extremely rare.
When Vincent joined the line, it was very long—he estimated he’d be waiting at least four hours. Seeing this, his father found a nearby inn and told him to come find him there afterward. Vincent nodded.
Four hours passed quickly. Some children left out of impatience. Still, the line barely moved faster. Occasionally, someone would shout that a student showed magical potential, followed by a long explanation—causing further delays.
Finally, only one person stood ahead of Vincent.
The tester—a mage wearing a novice’s insignia—placed his hand on the child’s head and muttered an incantation. Nothing happened.
The mage yawned. “There’s some magical resonance, but it’s too weak. You can’t learn magic yet. Try again next time. Next!”
Discrimination and Shock
Vincent stepped forward.
The mage glanced at him—instantly recognizing a commoner—and said dismissively, “Next!”
“But… sir, I haven’t been tested yet,” Vincent said, confused.
“You? A commoner? No commoner has ever become a mage. Testing you is a waste of my magical energy,” the mage snapped. “Move aside and don’t block the next student.”
“How can I know I can’t become a mage if I haven’t even been tested?” Vincent argued.
“You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” the mage muttered angrily. “Fine. Let’s show you what I mean.”
He placed his hand on Vincent’s head and began the incantation.
The next moment, something shocking happened.
Instead of detecting magical resonance, the mage was suddenly hurled backwards by an invisible force, slamming into the Association’s stone wall.
Vincent stood frozen, confused. The students nearby were equally baffled.
The mage climbed to his feet and quickly approached a mid-level mage, whispering something in his ear. The man looked at Vincent and walked over.
“That apprentice failed to complete the test, so I’ll perform it again,” the mid-level mage said.
He followed the same procedure: hand on Vincent’s head, incantation spoken.
But just like before, he too was blasted backward—harder than the first. The apprentice had hit the wall back-first; this mage struck it head-first. He staggered, dizzy, though he had raised his hands in time to protect himself from being knocked out.
A nearby water-element mage rushed over to heal him, soothing the dizziness with a spell.
Now, no one dared test Vincent.
A middle-aged mage approached and said, “Vincent, correct? Hello. I’m the Vice President of the Magic Association. Please come with me.”
The apprentice resumed testing the others while Vincent followed the Vice President.
A Mysterious Result
Inside the office, the Vice President chanted several spells to secure the room. Then he performed the same magical resonance test—hand on Vincent’s head, incantation.
Vincent held his breath, fearing this mage would also be thrown across the room.
But nothing happened.
The man frowned and ran the test again.
And again.
After the third time, he finally spoke: “According to the results, you have no magical resonance whatsoever.”
Vincent was stunned. “Then why did those other mages get thrown back?”
“I don’t know,” the Vice President admitted. “But one thing is clear—you cannot become a mage. You should go home now.”
Back to Reality
Vincent left the Association and returned to the inn, his head low. His father, seeing his son’s expression, already knew what had happened.
“I told you,” he said gently. “Magic is not something commoners like us can understand. Now you’ve seen it for yourself. Time to let it go. Come back home, learn brewing. You’ll make a decent living one day.”
Vincent nodded silently, not protesting.
The next morning, they boarded a carriage and began the long journey home.
Whispers Among Mages
Meanwhile, back in the Association, two mages were deep in conversation—one of them was the Vice President, the other a fellow senior mage.
“President,” said the Vice President, “Did you hear about the boy who blew two testers across the room yesterday? I tested him myself. No magical resonance at all. What do you make of it?”
The President fell silent for a moment, then said, “Our first assumption is that his magical power must be so strong it overwhelms the testers. That would explain the repulsion effect. But if he has no resonance and comes from a common background, with no magical lineage or formal training… then this is truly strange.”
Suddenly, the President’s eyes widened. “Unless… could it be—?”
“What is it, sir?” the Vice President asked.
“Have you ever heard of a mage from centuries ago who caused the same phenomenon? Testers were thrown back, yet no magical resonance was detected. It was later discovered that his immense magical power had been sealed. Once the seal was lifted, he was as powerful as a Grand Archmage. While sealed, he appeared completely ordinary.”
He paused. “I must meet this boy in person. Did he say where he was staying?”
“He’s at the inn near the Association,” the Vice President replied.
“Then there’s no time to waste,” said the President, grabbing his robe—a distinctive garment worn only by the head of the Magic Association, immediately recognizable by its ornate design.
Too Late
They hurried to the inn, startling the innkeeper by showing up in full regalia.
“D-Do we… do something wrong?” the innkeeper stammered, too overwhelmed to understand their questions.
Once he composed himself, he asked the staff to prepare refreshments.
“No need,” the President said, waving his hand. “We’re just here to ask: the boy who took the test yesterday—where is he? I’d like to speak with him.”
“Oh, that boy?” the innkeeper replied. “He and his father left early this morning.”
“Do you know where they’re from?” the Vice President asked urgently. “Did they mention it during their stay?”
The innkeeper thought for a while, then shook his head. “They didn’t say. But judging by their clothing and manner, I’d say they came from a small town or village—nothing big. I do recall them saying it’d take three or four days by carriage to get home.”
“Three or four days…” the President murmured, deep in thought. “I see. Thank you.”
As they left the inn, the Vice President asked, “Why are you so intent on finding this boy?”
“I just wanted to confirm my suspicion,” the President said quietly. “If I’m right… it’s terrifying. But he’s gone now, and we don’t know where he lives. That’s the end of it. Best not to dwell.”
But in his heart, the President wasn’t so sure.
Could Vincent really be like that mage from centuries ago?
Or… am I just overthinking it?
- Writer
