The rumble of the door closing behind Zhilian and Rhaegalur was not a sound of submission, but the beginning of a silent challenge. Inside the Private Council Chamber, the atmosphere was even more rarefied than in the public hall. Here, between walls covered in tapestries narrating the founding of Opes and tables of fossilized wood inlaid with silver, the air smelled of ancient dust and stagnant mana.
The seven Sages were arranged in a circle, their voices reduced to a hoarse and agitated whisper. The discussion regarding Hayjin's validity as the Princess's support was reaching its boiling point.
"It is diplomatic madness!" Sage Varek was exclaiming, a man with a pockmarked face and a perpetually suspicious gaze. "Entrusting the life of the firstborn to a boy who doesn't even have a name in the lineage registries? Rhaegalur can be whoever he wants, but that doesn't make his protégé a warrior."
As soon as Zhilian and Rhaegalur crossed the threshold, Elder Sage Arkon stood up, his staff striking the floor with force. "Princess! Son of the Dragon God! We asked you to wait outside. The Council's deliberation is sacred and allows no interference. We pray you leave immediately, before your conduct weighs further upon the verdict."
Rhaegalur did not budge. His massive frame seemed to absorb the light in the room, making the figures of the Sages appear small and fragile by comparison. "Arkon, we are not here to trample upon your traditions," his voice said, thundering yet controlled. "We are here because your decision is based on a fear of the unknown, not on the reality of the danger Zhilian is set to face."
"Just give us five minutes, Sage Arkon," Zhilian intervened, stepping forward with a firmness that silenced even Varek. "Five minutes to explain why Hayjin is not just a teammate, but the only logical and strategic choice I can make for this exam. If, after hearing me out, you still wish to deny me his support, I will accept your decision without another word."
Arkon looked at his colleagues. Rhaegalur's gaze was a physical pressure that could not be ignored. With a weary wave of his hand, the Elder Sage sat back down. "Five minutes, Princess. Not one second more."
Zhilian wasted no time. She began to pace at the center of the circle, gesturing with precision. "You seek a Support who possesses raw magical power. You look for a knight who can erect barriers of light or hurl flames. But the Mages' Association exam, as you well know, does not reward those who destroy, but those who survive and complete the mission. Last year, three candidates from Opes failed—not because they weren't strong, but because they fell into the environmental traps of the Glass Labyrinth. They didn't know how to manage variables that couldn't be struck with a sword."
She stopped, locking eyes with Arkon. "Hayjin sees the world in a way none of us understand. He doesn't pray to the wind; he dissects and manipulates it at will. He does not fear the enemy; he analyzes them like a mathematical problem. Where one of our mages sees an indomable bear, Hayjin sees a… mole…cular structure… something… vulnerable to… well, you get the point, Sages. He proved it against a Gabbro-Bear in the forest. Alone, managing to defeat it despite not possessing great mana, and above all, with an injured arm."
Rhaegalur spoke up, his deep voice seemingly vibrating in the bones of those present. "You call him 'boy.' I call him an 'anomaly.' Alius is changing, Sages. The threats to the kingdom are becoming more subtle—demons that never stop killing and… other threats… using magics that corrupt traditional magic. Hayjin uses a force that does not derive from faith in the elements, but from an understanding of the universal laws that govern even the Gods. Placing a common soldier beside him would be like giving a silk cloak to someone facing a storm of swords. Zhilian needs someone who knows how to navigate chaos, not someone who merely dies within it with honor."
"And his loyalty?" Varek hissed. "He is a soul without roots."
"His loyalty is bound to Zhilian by the purest promise there is: the recognition of mutual value," Rhaegalur countered. "And if that is not enough for you, I stake my very existence as a guarantee. If Hayjin betrays Opes, I myself will erase his name from time. But I tell you now… that will not happen, I assure you; I give my word as the Dragon God."
Zhilian approached the Sages' table, resting her hands on the polished surface. "The Mages' Association wants to see leaders who know how to choose their tools wisely. If I were to show up with a royal guard, I would be telling the world I am a princess who needs to be protected. If I show up with Hayjin, I am telling the world that Opes is evolving—that we are ready to integrate new and unknown forces to win. Give me Hayjin, and I will bring you the Professional Grade license with an efficiency you haven't seen in decades."
The silence that followed was absolute. Arkon looked at Zhilian, seeing in her no longer the child who played in the gardens, but a sovereign beginning to forge her own destiny with cold, lucid ambition.
"Time is up," Arkon murmured, but his tone was no longer hostile. It was pensive. He turned toward the other Sages, who began to exchange reluctant nods of agreement. Even Varek seemed to have been silenced by the Princess's crushing logic and Rhaegalur's supernatural presence.
"Leave now," Arkon said. "The final verdict will be issued in a few moments. But know this, Zhilian... if this boy should waver, the weight of the failure will fall entirely upon your crown."
Zhilian bowed, a faint smile of victory touching her face. She knew she had bent them to her will. As she walked out of the room alongside Rhaegalur, her thoughts immediately raced to Hayjin, who was waiting for her in the hall, unaware that his destiny had just been decided in a room full of dust and fear.
The atrium of the Royal Palace of Opes was a triumph of impossible architecture. The walls, inlaid with gold veins that seemed to flow like rivers of light, rose toward a domed ceiling that reflected the sky outside through a complex system of magical prisms. Hayjin was sitting on a smooth, cold white stone bench, trying to make sense of the hieroglyphs engraved on the floor. When he heard the dull rumble of the Council Chamber doors opening, he snapped to his feet like a coiled spring.
Zhilian and Rhaegalur emerged from the dimness of the corridor. The princess walked with a grace that betrayed an electric energy, a glint in her eyes that Hayjin had learned to recognize: it was the look of someone who had just won an audacious bet.
"Well?" Hayjin asked, crossing his arms in an attempt to hide the slight trembling of his hands. "Did they accept, or is it a no?"
Zhilian stood before him, a radiant smile illuminating her tired face. "It went well, Hayjin. Better than I hoped. I backed them into a corner, and Rhaegalur... well, let's just say his presence helped make their doubts feel much heavier, in my opinion. You're practically one of us already. They'll choose you; I'm certain of it."
"Do not claim victory too soon, little princess," interjected Rhaegalur's thundering voice. The Dragon God loomed behind her like a primordial shadow. His human face was a mask of stoic caution. "The Sages are like the roots of old oaks: they bend under the storm, but return to their original shape as soon as the wind drops. We have sown doubt and logic, but prejudice is a beast difficult to slay. The verdict is not yet written on parchment."
Hayjin looked at the giant, then back at Zhilian. He took a deep breath, smelling the scent of incense and ozone that permeated the air. "Don't worry, Rhaegalur. If Zhilian says she convinced them, I believe her. She has a way of dragging people into her follies that is almost magical in itself. It will be fine. Maybe those old men just need someone to remind them that the world isn't exactly safe right now."
Rhaegalur let out a grunt that was halfway between a sigh and a stifled laugh. "You are an optimist, boy. Or perhaps just reckless. I warn you: if the Sages should spit on my guarantee and reject you, do not come crying to me. I have put my word and my existence on the scales. If they decide you do not weigh enough, I will have done everything in my power. From that moment on, you will be nothing but a stranger in a land that does not want you."
Zhilian, contrary to her usual impulsive nature, did not snap back. She remained silent for a moment, looking out toward the gardens where the sun began its slow descent. "In that case," she said in a low voice, with a serenity that caught them both off guard, "I will accept their decision. If despite everything we've said, despite the testimony of a God and the logic of survival, they choose to lock themselves in the past... then it will mean that Opes is not yet ready for the future I want to build. But for now, we wait. Patience is a form of power, isn't it?"
The hours that followed were a test of psychological endurance. Time inside the palace seemed to stretch, every minute marked by the rhythmic ticking of a monumental water clock in the center of the atrium. Hayjin tried to distract himself by walking along the perimeter of the hall, observing the tapestries that told of the founding of Opes. He saw images of men and dragons fighting side by side against demons, and he couldn't help but wonder where that cooperation had gone—why everything now seemed so rigid and fragile.
Zhilian had sat on the ground, cross-legged, closing her eyes to meditate or perhaps just to rest. Her breathing was steady, but Hayjin noticed how her fingers tapped imperceptibly on the fabric of her tunic. She wasn't calm; she was a contained storm.
Rhaegalur, on the other hand, was as motionless as a statue. He did not eat, did not drink, did not blink. He seemed capable of waiting for centuries without showing a sign of boredom. For him, those hours were just a blink in his millennial existence, yet his gaze remained fixed on the Council Chamber door, as if he could see through the wood and the enchantment.
"What do you think they're doing in there?" Hayjin whispered, approaching Zhilian after what felt like an eternity.
"Good question... I respect the Sages, but sometimes I wish I knew what was going on in their heads; they're far too gloomy, in my opinion," she replied without opening her eyes. "They are debating whether it's more dangerous to let you participate in the exam or to risk offending Rhaegalur. Varek will surely be shouting that you're a spy or an omen of doom, while Arkon will be trying to figure out if my ambition is an asset to the kingdom or a threat to their stability."
"And you? What do you think?"
Zhilian opened her eyes, and Hayjin saw a spark of vulnerability that she rarely showed. "I think if they don't take you, they'll lose the only chance to understand that mana isn't everything. And I'll lose the only ally who would truly have helped me in this exam."
Finally, when the shadows had lengthened to cover nearly the entire floor of the atrium, a young novice emerged from the hall. His face was pale and his voice trembled slightly as he announced: "Princess Zhilian, the Dragon God, and... the guest Hayjin, are summoned. The Council has reached a verdict."
Hayjin felt his heart leap. The hollow feeling in his stomach he had felt during the flight on Rhaegalur was nothing compared to this rush of pure adrenaline. The three moved in unison. Zhilian in the lead, with her back straight and her chin high; Rhaegalur at her side, a force of nature ready to be unleashed; and Hayjin a step behind, his mind already processing a thousand different scenarios, a thousand ways to convince them one last time if things went poorly.
They re-entered the Council Chamber.
The atmosphere had changed. There was no longer the electric tension from before, but a heavy, almost funeral solemnity. The Sages were seated in their places, their figures shrouded in the shadows of the candles that were beginning to burn out. Arkon, in the center, held a parchment sealed with the kingdom's gold wax.
The Elder Sage looked up, fixing his gaze first on Zhilian, then lingering long on Hayjin. The silence lasted so long that Hayjin felt the urge to say something, anything, just to break it. But he felt Zhilian's hand brush his sleeve, a silent signal: Wait.
The silence inside the Council Chamber had become so dense it seemed almost solid. The torchlight on the walls crackled, casting long, distorted shadows that danced across the Sages' stone table. Arkon, the Elder Sage, cleared his throat, a sound that seemed like thunder in that suspended void. Beside him, Varek crossed his arms, his gaze still heavy with a mistrust that would not easily thaw.
"We have weighed your words," Arkon began, his voice devoid of any unnecessary emotion. "We have considered the risk of novelty against the security of tradition. And we have heard the oath of the Dragon God." He paused briefly, staring Hayjin straight in the eye. "Hayjin, Son of the Dragon God, you will be permitted to participate in the Association exam as Princess Zhilian's teammate."
Just as Hayjin and Zhilian were about to cheer, Sage Arkon cut them off immediately.
"But wait... I am interrupting you now... do not believe this is a concession without thorns."
Hayjin felt his heart hammer against his ribs, but he remained motionless.
"There is a condition," Arkon continued, his voice growing sharper. "A bond that cannot be broken. Should Zhilian fail the test, or if, through your negligence or misfortune, any harm should befall her... your punishment will be immediate."
"You will be banished from Opes forever. You shall never again set foot on this soil, you shall not speak a word to any of its citizens, and your name shall be erased from the memories of Opes as if you had never existed. And know this..." Arkon leaned forward, his authority radiating like physical heat. "Even though you were brought here by Rhaegalur, and even though he calls you 'son,' this does not place you above the laws of Opes. Before the justice of this kingdom, you are a guest, and guests who bring ruin are uprooted."
Despite the gravity of the threat, Hayjin couldn't restrain his nature. One corner of his mouth quirked up into a crooked half-smile. "Well, I guess that means I won't be able to try that delicious food at the inn anymore..."
The Sages stared at him with such coldness that the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Varek clenched his fists, visibly irritated by the boy's impertinence. But Hayjin, immediately adopting a more respectful tone, gave a nod. "I thank you for the decision. I understand the weight of your conditions and I accept them. I have no intention of letting the Princess fail—mostly because coming back without completing the mission would be a real letdown."
Zhilian stepped forward, bowing her head with a solemnity she rarely showed. "I thank you, Sages. Your wisdom in embracing change will be the strength that allows Opes to excel in the exam, and beyond..."
As they turned to leave, Arkon spoke one last sentence, addressed directly to Hayjin: "Boy, I will give you some unsolicited advice. If the trial grows dark and you see the shadow of failure falling upon the Princess... pray. Pray for yourself and your soul, for our law will reach you wherever you decide to run."
Hayjin stopped at the threshold, glancing over his shoulder. "I'll keep that in mind, Sage Arkon. But usually, I prefer to solve problems rather than rely on prayers. They have a more reliable success rate."
Rhaegalur, Zhilian, and Hayjin left the room with incredible calm, their footsteps echoing rhythmically and confidently on the polished marble of the corridors, under the stern gazes of guards and dignitaries.
As soon as the heavy double doors of the main corridor closed behind them, isolating them from the rest of the court, Zhilian and Hayjin's calm shattered into a thousand pieces.
"WE DID IT!" Zhilian screamed, literally jumping onto Hayjin's neck with a force that nearly knocked him to the ground.
"YES! THOSE OLD GRUMBLERS ACCEPTED!" Hayjin exclaimed, grabbing her by the shoulders and starting to hop around with her like a madman. "I don't believe it! I thought they'd tell me to get lost, but we're in! We are officially in!"
The two began to celebrate wildly, laughing and shouting for joy in the deserted corridor, oblivious to any royal etiquette or the danger they had just escaped. Zhilian swung her arms in the air while Hayjin pumped his fist in victory, letting out whistles of approval.
Rhaegalur watched them from a few steps away, crossing his arms over his massive chest. A rare smile, almost imperceptible but sincere, appeared on his usually stern face. "Fortunately for you, everything went well," he said in his deep voice, momentarily interrupting their celebratory dance. "You were convincing, in your own way. But remember that Arkon's threats are not empty words. You've gotten what you wanted; now the hard part begins."
"You can rest easy, great Dragon God!" Zhilian replied, still short of breath from laughing. "Let us enjoy this moment! It's the first time I've seen Arkon so uncertain after giving him a piece of my mind. Hayjin, you were fantastic!"
"No, you were fantastic," Hayjin countered, wiping a tear of joy from the corner of his eye. "That speech about survival and logic... you almost made me want to actually study. We're a team, Zhilian. And now we're going to show that Association what we're capable of."
They were overjoyed, charged with an adrenaline that showed no sign of fading, ready to face the unknown with a confidence that only the folly of youth could fuel.