Morning gathers the first learners in the citadel’s central court. Seren waits beside his open ledger, while Hadrik keeps the line moving with a welcoming gesture rather than a barred path.
Seren Arcal
State your name, then touch the crystal when invited. Its answer guides you, but it does not define what you may learn.
Students approach one by one. Red light sends some toward Tavia’s fire hall, blue toward Oren’s water hall, and yellow toward Ilyra’s chambers of wind and lightning.
Hadrik Pell
Easy now. No pushing, no laughter at another’s color. Every lesson begins with the courage to stand where you are.
A small farmhand, a young woman with a wiry build, sun-browned skin, a freckled face, and chestnut hair braided beneath a faded linen kerchief steps forward in patched brown clothes, her hands rough from fieldwork. Several learners snicker behind her, and she lowers her eyes before touching the stone.
The crystal erupts in brilliant red, blue, and yellow, brighter than any answer before. Then a fourth, pale radiance blooms within it, delicate as dawn and unmistakably alive.
Tavia Rusk
A beginning of Creation. Child, what is your name, and will you let us learn what the crystal has welcomed in you?