I blinked.

  That was… underwhelming. That was really it? No divine trumpet, no blazing halo? Just… words? Astel said it like she was reading off a grocery list.

  Well, whatever, I let out a deep breath. I am a mage.

  I turned to my father, hoping to catch a glimpse of his reaction, but his expression had remained calm and composed. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased, indifferent, or if he had always been certain about the results of this ritual.

  Then again, Father rarely showed emotions openly, especially in the presence of guests.

  When he spoke, his voice was calm and composed as always. “If you have no objections,” my father began. “I would like to proceed with the rest of the evaluation.”

  “Very well,” Gerok gestured for Astel to take her position again. The young priestess still looked somewhat shaken from the previous ritual, but she steeled herself and got back to her place without a single complaint.

  “Young master Arda, please remain as still as possible.”

  I did as they asked, but this time, I pulled up a chair and sat down in front of them.

  No way I’m going through that again while standing.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught my father’s barely-there smirk. The two priests gave me odd looks but chose to remain silent.

  The process was much shorter, and not even a minute after they began their chant, the priests already had their answer; this time too, I hadn’t sensed or felt anything about what they might have been doing.

  “Young master Arda,” Gerok announced solemnly. “It seems your soul is conflicted between two different paths. Mana has blessed you, my young Lord; your magic has two paths open to take, one for creation and one for destruction.

  “A bright future awaits you, young master. My sincerest congratulations,” he concluded.

  The old priest took a step back to give me time to celebrate with my father. Well, had he been the type to do such a thing, that is.

  “What the noble Gerok means, beneath the unnecessary formalities, is that you’ll have the choice to pursue the path of a pure conjurer or that of a magus. A truly enviable talent, son,” Father explained.

  No longer able to hide his pride, he had his lips curled into a wide smile as he spoke. He had a “I’d always known” kind of expression stamped on his face.

  Hoping to hide my blushing cheeks, I hurried to bow deeply. It’s already rare for Father to compliment me… But doing it in public? Unheard of.

  But I kinda got why he was that much excited.

  Mages came in two types, conjurers and magi. The former represented pure casters, scholars and experts of complex spells, while the latter were basically magical knights, mages who wielded magic to cast combat spells.

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  “If I may,” Astel spoke up, stepping forward. “It would truly be an honor for me to check if young master Arda has been blessed with an emblem.”

  Father immediately returned to his composed state, his smile vanishing behind his usual neutral expression. “Of course,” he agreed.

  Stepping aside with Gerok, he left me face-to-face with Astel. For the first time, a small, fleeting smile appeared on the priestess’s lips, somewhat akin to an encouraging gesture.

  I opened my mouth to return it, but before I could, she had already closed her eyes.

  Astel resumed her prayers, this time in Elesyen, invoking her goddess’s guidance to sharpen her vision and refine her senses, so that she might “gaze upon the purity of my soul.”

  Then, without halting her chants, she opened her eyes.

  I nearly flinched. Her once scarlet eyes now shimmered like a starry night sky, as if they reflected an entire universe within them.

  “Please give me your hand, young master,” she requested. Her voice hadn’t really changed, but it sounded solemn, almost ominous.

  I realized just then that I had been holding my breath.

  Without a word, I obeyed.

  Her hand was warm, a stark contrast to her pale, almost ghostly complexion.

  Astel murmured something too soft for me to hear before silence was the only thing lingering in the air.

  We both searched our eyes, and I eventually lost myself in her celestial gaze.

  Time seemed to stretch endlessly, until Astel abruptly jerked her hand away, as if burned.

  Her entire body began to tremble wildly, yet her eyes remained locked onto mine.

  “Lady Astel?” I called her, concerned. “Are you alright?”

  The priestess took several unsteady steps backward, just to collapse against my father’s desk. Several parchments rolled down, falling loudly to the ground, but she barely seemed to notice.

  Even when she fell on the floor, hitting her head in the process, she never stopped shaking violently. Her gaze never left mine.

  I turned to Gerok, dead set on asking if this was how the ritual was supposed to go, but the pale look on his face made me hesitate.

  The young priestess was now in the throes of violent convulsions.

  “Arda, look elsewhere. Don’t let her meet your eyes,” Father ordered, his tone sharp. I obeyed immediately, turning to the door, though I didn’t understand what was going on.

  “Lady Astel, are you alright?” I heard my father kneel beside her.

  She whispered something—too soft for me to catch—and she managed to sit up with great difficulty, shooting a weary look at Gerok.

  The old priest remained frozen, his face completely drained of color. But when he felt Astel’s eyes on him, he finally snapped out of it.

  A silent conversation passed between them. Gerok looked at Astel with a firm, warning gaze, as if trying to dissuade her from whatever she was about to say. Astel shook her head, making Gerok’s shoulders slump in defeat.

  Father watched closely, likely trying to gather information from their expressions alone.

  “As you have likely guessed,” Astel finally spoke, her voice still strained. She pulled her robes tighter around her, but she seemed to take no comfort from the gesture.

  “What just happened was… unusual, to say the least.”

  Her tone was careful, as if choosing her words very deliberately.

  “Does that mean I didn’t awaken a crest?” I asked hesitantly, but she shook her head.

  “Oh no, quite the contrary, young master,” she whispered.

  “You have awakened far too many.”

  Her scarlet eyes, lost their ethereal appearance, met mine once more, sending a shiver down my spine. My heart froze for a second as she opened her mouth to speak.

  “You… you are a Binary.”

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