Spellbound

Ragonia, Institute of the Arcane, a prestigious academy that was nestled in the middle of Avurus. It was a name that every kingdom and realm in Avurus recognized, mostly for their production of distinguished mages. These mages were sought after by all of Avurus, and this allowed Ragonia to form a treaty with every kingdom, province, and realm that was ruled in the continent; Ragonia would remain neutral and outside of war and conflict, while with each cycle they would assign the graduating mages to each ruling family, whom they can use to their heart's desire. This was the greatest honour any student could be bestowed with; the recognition of their powers, allowing them to serve Lords and Ladies of Avurus.  The final exam took place every five years, in which only one hundred students were hand picked by the Elders and Mentors of Ragonia, and only a handful would pass the challenging assessment and be allowed to enter the world as fully fledged mages. And today marked the day the old cycle came to a close. The Grand Hall found itself full of life, the buzz of idle chatter filling the room. The finals had taken place and concluded, and those gathered within the Grand Hall were the graduates of this cycle; only twenty-three out of a hundred mages. The atmosphere was lively, fueled by the excitement of the mages. They were all thrilled, for they were gathered to be assigned to their respective kingdoms and realms.  As the elders entered the room, gentle green eyes flicked up and followed their movements from under her long eyelashes. Those eyes  belonged to a young girl of nearly nineteen, her face framed by her short, poofy caramel-coloured hair. She was a petite, short girl, with all of the other mages in attendance standing taller than her, her lack of wearing hells making her height even more painfully obvious. Once the elders cleared their throats she quickly fell in line with her peers, folding her hands in front of her. The elders started off calling the names of the graduate, having them come up then announcing the realm that they would serve, before giving them the scroll that contained their assignment. "Quinn," the young girl finally heard her name after sixteen other's had been called, making her close the distance between her and the elders, giving them a small, polite bow. "Quinn..." The elder looked her in the eye, extending the scroll towards her. "You are hereby assigned to serve the kingdom of Ottexus."  Gasps filled the room, followed by immediately mumbling and chatter from the other mages. Quinn had felt her blood run cold when the words Ottexus were uttered. Shakily, she took the scroll and made her way back to where she had stood before. She could feel the gazes of pity from her peers, but she did not meet their gaze, rather, keeping her eyes cast to the ground with only one through running through her mind. Fuck my life.