River’s attempt to display just earth essence hadn’t gone as planned. He’d expected the administrator to react like he had with the others—stone-faced and calm. Instead, They dragged him through the side door. Mind still reeling.

  As he left the auditorium, fragments of whispered voices followed in his wake:

  “Two affinities?”

  “No it was … older. Like it didn’t belong.”

  “Who was that?” He didn’t have answers. And the worst part? Neither did he. Blinking hard and rubbing his eyes, he found himself in a new corridor branching off from the auditorium. This one buzzed with activity—students, both new and old, crowded the hallway.

  Groups of older students stood holding signs high above their heads, each marked with a symbol representing an elemental affinity. A tall, slender blonde woman held a sign marked with a lightning bolt crackling across it. Nearby, a young man with long hair, a scruffy beard, stood barefoot with a green tree symbol swaying slightly above him. River snorted. The nature guy was barefoot.

  Then he caught a glimpse of Albert standing beside the scruffy man, looking both nervous and relieved. River let out a quiet breath. He was glad the boy had passed—glad he wasn’t completely alone.

  His amusement was short-lived as he realized what was happening. These were the affinity groups—students were beginning to separate and join their respective elemental paths. It seemed they would be given additional support by older students who had already gone through the program. He turned back to the professor, unease creeping into his voice. “Wait, where are we going?”

  Had he already been singled out?

  The professor didn’t even glance back. “No. You’re going to the headmaster.”

  River’s heart skipped a beat. Please be Alerus. He prayed to Lady Luck that she might grant him favor just this once.

  They walked for what seemed like hours, winding through corridors that twisted like roots beneath the earth. They ascended staircases, passed stone archways, and climbed higher still—until finally, they stopped in front of a door.

  It was made of the same heavy stone and deep wood as the others, yet this one looked entirely different. Red runes were carved in a circular pattern around its edge, glowing brighter than those on surrounding doors. River watched, mesmerized. It reminded him of the bag Lud had given him, but this was far more powerful. The magic thrummed in the air like a low, steady heartbeat. Amazing.

  Professor Greggory stepped forward and knocked three times.

  “Sir, it’s Greggory. We have a new student who needs to see you,” he said, his tone edged with reluctance.

  “Come in,” came a voice from within, firm but gentle. The door opened on its own with a smooth whoosh, no hand or mechanism in sight.

  Greggory walked in first and over to the man, passing him the paper the administrators had written.

  River stepped forward, hesitant. The man inside was not what he expected.

  He was younger—couldn’t be more than forty. Average height, but broad-shouldered and solid. Alerus looked more like a farmer than a headmaster or magician to River. The man’s gaze swept over him, and River felt exposed; the air around him seemed to turn thicker, almost substantial and heavy on his skin as he looked River over.

  “Interesting,” the man murmured. “Very interesting.”

  He turned his gaze to Greggory and brushed the man off.

  “Leave us.”

  Greggory hesitated. “But sir, I have some information you might want.”

  “Nothing I can’t glean myself,” the man said with a sigh—not unkind, but final. Greggory looked like he wanted to protest, but he held his tongue. With a curt nod, he turned and left. The moment he stepped past the threshold, the door slammed behind him with a loud bang and a gust of air that jolted River, who hadn’t been ready for it.

  “Come on,” the man said, waving at him. “Take off the shades. I would like to see your eyes.”

  River hesitated. He knew his eyes didn’t look normal. Lud had warned him to be cautious—but he’d also said to find Alerus. Still looking at the floor, River slowly removed the sunglasses. When he lifted his gaze again, the man—Alerus—was staring at him with an expression that flickered from curiosity to childlike glee.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Alerus grinned. “Didn’t expect that. Where is the tall skinny dud? He sent me a message that he would bring you.”

  The words stung in his ears, and his eyes hovered on the edge of betraying everything he’d fought to hold back.

  He choked out a few words, his voice on the brink of cracking.

  “He didn’t make it.” Regaining control over his voice, he refocused and continued.

  “We were ambushed in a neighboring town.”

  The joy drained from Alerus’s face. His jaw clenched.

  “Fucking hell!” Slamming his fist onto the desk.

  The entire room seemed to quake. The stone beneath their feet rumbled as if the mountain itself groaned in grief. River gripped the edge of the desk, eyes darting to the ceiling in fear that it might collapse. And with that outburst, Alerus’s energy seemed to drain. His clenched shoulders eased, and the storm behind his eyes settled. The calm exterior returned like a mask that covered his true emotions. Then Alerus looked at him again, softer now. “Sorry,” he said with a shrug, like even he hadn’t expected that outburst.

  River just stared, trying to make sense of the man before him. For the first time, he really looked at him.

  Like Lud, Alerus had dark bands wrapped around his fingers—seven of them in total. River had once thought Lud’s were just an odd fashion statement, but now he wasn’t so sure. Around Alerus’s neck hung a medallion, half brown and half green—earth and life woven together.

  And his eyes… one was a deep brown, the other a brilliant, almost glowing green. River noticed something else too—whites smaller than normal, more color than sclera. It was unsettling, yet mesmerizing. River stood there awkwardly, glancing between Alerus and the strange room. Finally, he cleared his throat.

  He told Alerus everything—how Lud had found him, how they traveled, the town, the storm, the black mist that wasn’t quite solid, and the creature that killed Lud. He tripped over “Lud” twice but kept going. It all poured out in a messy, breathless flood. He didn’t dramatize it, didn’t embellish—just said it how it had happened. As he spoke. A muscle twitch beneath Alerus’s eye, then nothing. When River finally reached the end, and silence fell over the room once more, he realized just how hard it had been. His throat was dry, his eyes damp, and his stomach twisted in a knot. Reliving it had dragged him back—just for a moment—but that was enough. He would rather never do that again. River stood stiffly. Alerus only breathed.

  Alerus just sat there, nodding slowly as if chewing on every detail. No anger, no fear.

  River couldn’t take it anymore. His legs ached from standing still, and the silence pressed on his nerves like a weight. He shifted his stance, rubbing at his hands, eyes darting around the strange room. Something—anything—needed to happen.

  He stood there awkwardly, waiting for Alerus to speak, to move, to do something. Then, as if roused from a deep sleep, Alerus gave a slight shudder, rubbed his eyes, and refocused his gaze on River.

  “Does anyone else know about that?” he asked, pointing directly at River’s eyes.

  River swallowed.

  “Only Lud... No.” He forgot for a moment that Lud was no longer alive. Saying his name brought a sting of grief to his chest.

  Alerus ran a hand through his hair, thoughtful. His expression tightened as he turned the question over in his mind. “What you’ve got is... unique,” Alerus said slowly, his eyes narrowing with thought. “No fixed affinity means none of the usual limits. Fire won’t come easier than water, air won’t resist more than stone. You’re open to it all. But the other students have the benefit of gaining a mentor with the same affinity. Those were the people with the signs earlier. You’re going to have to learn on your own.” He tapped the desk, leaning forward. “We used to call it Primordial attunement. In the old days, maybe one kid every fifty years. Now? It’s been centuries.”

  Then he gestured at River’s eyes, grinning faintly. “But first, those. You walk around like that, you’ll scare the shit out of everyone.”

  River managed a smile, a twitch at the corner of his lips.

  “I can do that.”

  “Of course you can,” Alerus replied. “It’s actually quite simple. If you were able to trick the crystal ball, this should be a piece of cake. Just focus on layering fire or earth essence over the others. Block them in—mask them.” River closed his eyes and focused, just as he had when exploring his soul chamber. It came easier now, like a reflex. His will forced the fire and earth to act as a curtain, hiding his true elements. Within seconds, something shifted. The world dimmed; the bright, oversaturated colors he'd grown used to faded like mist, and for a second, his eyes needed to adjust to the new darkness. He blinked and opened his eyes again.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  He looked to Alerus. “Did I do it?” he asked with a crooked smile.

  Alerus looked amused. “Kind of.” He reached into his desk and pulled out a small hand mirror. “Look for yourself.”

  River took the mirror, eyes widening the moment he saw his reflection. One eye had turned blood red, the other an earthy brown. The whites were gone—just swirling, unnatural colors.

  He flinched, nearly dropping the mirror. “Yeah… not really.”

  It didn’t feel like looking at himself. More like a stranger had slipped beneath his skin, wearing his face like a borrowed mask. A small knot of fear twisted in his chest.

  Is this who I am now?

  He shoved his thoughts away and forced a crooked smile.“I can work with it.”

  Alerus laughed. “Good. It’ll have to do for now. The fact that they’ve already changed color says a lot. Your essence is immensely potent. The less white in the eye, the greater your essence capacity. A quick litmus test—useful, not perfect.” He leaned back, more serious now. “People might be scared of you for a while. But trust me, it’s better than the alternative.”

  River nodded slowly. He could live with that. For the first time since Lud had died, he didn’t feel completely alone. Maybe the path ahead wasn’t as treacherous as it had seemed. Maybe... Just maybe he was allowed to hope for something better.

  He slipped the sunglasses back on. It wasn’t time to show the world just yet. River followed Alerus in silence. The headmaster moved with purpose—fast and quiet—as if the ground itself helped carry him forward. River struggled to keep up with the teacher’s speed, and by the time Alerus finally stopped, River was panting heavily. His robes were soaked with sweat; they were no longer the clean white they had been when he received them. He needed to find a place to wash both them and himself. He must stink like garbage on a summer day. Alerus spoke, breaking River’s train of thought. “This is going to be your room. This section of the school is for the lowest-ranked students—those who have yet to receive their third band.” He held up his right index finger. They’re proof of control. Will. Soul. “A mix of it all, they appear by the pantheons will.” Alerus said with a shrug. “Call it what you want. The higher you climb, the hungrier the nobles get. They’ll try to poach you—patronage, coin, promises. Be careful what you take and whose house you bind your name to.” Alerus’s eyes dropped from his hands and back to River. “Here is your schedule. Don’t miss class, or I’ll come looking for you,” he said in a jokingly intense way.

  River looked down at the schedule and back up, wondering how he was supposed to find his classes or even get there on time. He didn’t have any idea where anything was or how to tell the time. He opened his mouth to ask—but Alerus was gone. Just as quietly as he had arrived, he had vanished without a sound or a parting word, as if the school itself had swallowed him whole. Everything hit him at once. The smell of new books and freshly washed clothes. The echoes of student laughter and shouted conversations bouncing off the stone halls. It was overwhelming—for someone who had spent most of his life outside. Now, he was buried in a mountain, surrounded by too many people.

  River sighed and turned toward the door in front of him. Before he could reach for it, it swung open and hit him squarely in the jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. His satchel landed with a thump, and the crystal ball inside rolled free. At least the bag on his back softened the fall.

  River looked up. “Ow, that fucking hurt.”

  A young man stood in front of River, no older than himself. He was ordinary in almost every way—except for the large, visible birthmark on his cheek, shaped uncannily like a heart. He rushed down to him, quickly picking up the crystal ball and placing it back into the satchel.

  “Sorry! I’m supposed to be helping my new roommate find the dorms and show him around. He should be in the entry hall.”

  The boy started down the corridor while he spoke.

  This was the door Alerus had shown him, so it must be him. “Is his name River?”

  The boy stopped in his tracks and spun around, confusion plain on his face. “You’re River? How the hell did you find your way here? I’m still struggling, and I’ve been here almost a year.”

  River’s jaw still ached, but he clenched his teeth and forced a reply. “The headmaster showed me.” The boy’s expression darkened. He let out a dramatic sigh. “What the hell did you do? I’ve been here a year and never even seen the guy. Don’t tell me you already picked a fight.”

  River gave a faint smile, avoiding the full truth. “Let’s just say I stood out.”

  The sunglasses—barely hanging on after the door slammed into his face—had slipped down his nose. His mismatched eyes, glowing red and brown, were exposed. The boy’s gaze locked onto them, widening in shock.

  “That’s... like the Headmaster’s eyes. But even stronger. You’ve got multiple affinities, don’t you?” he asked, suddenly intense. River stiffened. Drawing comparisons to the Headmaster couldn’t be a good sign—not if he planned to blend in here.

  “Not sure how rare it is,” River muttered. “The Headmaster said people without a fixed affinity used to show up now and then. But not for a century.”

  If three affinities made her a legend… what would they call him?

  Freak? Monster? Something worse?

  River swallowed. “What’s her name?”

  “Kidrin. Comes from one of the great families. Her dad has two affinities too, but Kidrin’s the first with three in decades. She started when I did, but she’s already got her third band. Fastest novice rank advancement in a hundred years.”

  River tucked that name away. He needed to meet her.

  “She sounds impressive,” he said, encouraging the boy’s admiration.

  The boy looked up dreamily. “Oh, she is. But be careful—people with that much power are dangerous.” Then he blinked and grinned sheepishly. “Right. I'm Calleidrium, Callum, for short. Let’s get you settled and I’ll give you the tour.”

  River stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and followed Callum into their room. It wasn’t extravagant, but to River, it was a palace. A private bed, a desk, and—was that a bathroom?

  “This is ours?” River asked in disbelief.

  Callum laughed. “Yeah, not bad for novices. Once we level up, they give us better rooms.” River wanted the top bunk. It felt safer—more like the rooftop ledges and shadowy rafters he used to sleep on. This place was too clean, too different. Too exposed. “I’m used to sleeping up high anyway,” he muttered, eyeing the top bunk. Safer. Familiar.

  Callum chuckled. “Great, I hate heights. Feet are made for placing firmly on the ground, not dangling in the air.”

  He led River back into the corridor and pointed to a stone wall. A glowing map had been carved into it at an intersection.

  “We’re here,” Callum said, tapping the spot. “Mess hall’s this way. Should be lunch.”

  “Alright,” River replied, though his stomach twisted. Whatever that essence had done to him… eating felt wrong.

  The hallways twisted on, lit by torches that somehow kept everything bright. River didn’t understand how but guessed it must be magic.

  Then, laughter. Harsh and ugly.

  As they turned the corner, River saw three older students crowding someone against the wall. Albert. He recognized the bulky figure instantly.

  “Did your mom screw a troll?” one of the bullies sneered. “You smell like piss and look like my ass grew a face.”

  The others cackled.

  River’s fists clenched. He really didn’t like bullies. It had gotten him in trouble before—but he couldn’t help it.

  Without thinking, he lunged.

  Callum grabbed his arm. “Stop! They’re Tier Two!”

  River didn’t care. He twisted Callum’s wrist, yanking free. Apologies could wait.

  Albert was trapped—his legs encased in stone. Earth magic.

  River charged and leapt, slamming into one of the bullies’ backs. “Let him go!”

  The boy barely flinched. He peeled River off like a coat and threw him down,

  “Don’t interfere with your betters,” the older teen growled. “We’re just having fun.”

  River coughed, vision swimming. He needed magic.

  He focused. “Earth Prison,” he whispered, trying to replicate the spell.

  For a second, the earth answered—then resistance. He could feel the thrum below his feet, as if it spoke back to him.

  Then, resistance. Something grabbed his essence, tearing it from his grasp. Strength drained from his limbs as cold seeped into his core. A stronger soul had overwhelmed his. Pain exploded behind his eyes.

  The spell turned on him. Mud grew around his legs, hardening to stone. In that moment, he realized that even if he had power, he couldn’t control it. Would there always be someone stronger? Would he always feel helpless? Maybe that was just the way of the world.

  Panic gripped him.

  A heavy fist flew down. Everything went black.