The Garden of Lumins
Rain opened his eyes and the desert was gone.
In its place was a living world woven from light and memory. The cracked stone ruins pulsed with intricate veins of Uud, and the shattered columns were entwined with luminous ivy that danced without wind. The air shimmered, not from heat, but from life.
Dozens! perhaps hundreds of radiant beings moved through the space.
Their bodies were sleek and elongated, like elegant wraiths sculpted from sunlight and moonstone, their wings delicate but not fragile, woven with patterns like constellations.
Rain's breath caught in his throat.
The stranger from before, the winged being who had healed Irene, stood before him again. But now his form was clearer, less a silhouette of divine power and more a defined presence of light and matter. He smiled faintly.
"You can finally see us," he said. "Only those marked by the Waters of Uud may behold our kind. Humans call us fairies or angels, names we neither chose nor resent. But our true name is 'Lumins'."
Rain took a step forward, his voice hushed. "You're… a race?"
"Yes," the Lumin said, nodding. "We tend to the roots of creation. Every world must be cultivated, its soul nourished. That is our work. We multiply the currents of Uud so that your kind may live and shape."
Rain looked around again.....this time with understanding. The vines weren't just decoration, they were channels. The grass that had once looked dead and brittle now shimmered with layered glyphs, pulsing like breathing skin. Even the cracked fountain flowed with language, not just water.
It was all alive.
And through this hidden harmony flowed a rhythm! A weaving! A dance of cultivation.
"This is what lies beneath your world," the Lumin continued. "Hidden from those not yet awakened to Authority. This....." he gestured wide, ".....is Authority. Not power alone, but alignment. A soul in harmony with Uud can do what your people call miracles. But miracles are only echoes of deeper truths."
Rain stood in reverent silence, eyes wide as the fana, the core root of Uud in this ruin rose in the distance like a tree of shifting color. From its branches poured living strands of Uud that snaked into the wind, into soil, into everything.
He didn't know it yet, but this moment was the first lesson in mastering his Authority.
The Heat of the Desert
The blazing sun scorched the backs of the examinees still walking the desert.
Many were elves, hardy and long-lived but even their resilience had its limits. Lips cracked, eyes squinted, some walked in silence, others whispered prayers to distant gods. One boy collapsed, face-first into the sand, unmoving. Two others lifted him weakly, searching the horizon with blurred vision.
"We… we should've traveled by night," one muttered.
"We can't stop now," another whispered, delirious. "He's out there somewhere… that elf who killed the giants. If he could...maybe...."
Others had chosen to rest, erecting makeshift shelters with the rolled grass they had salvaged. Small camps dotted the dunes now, each group huddling beneath thin shade and praying that dusk would come quickly.
One girl looked over her shoulder toward the garden, her thoughts heavy.
Why did that elf walk away from the race?
And somewhere beyond their reach, Rain stood at the threshold of two worlds, one of sand and sweat, the other of light and living energy.
Revelation in the Lumin Ruins
Irene blinked rapidly as the water trickled down her cheeks. Her breathing slowed and then halted for a heartbeat as the world shifted.
Gone were the broken ruins and dead stones.
In their place stood a vibrant landscape of shimmering light and crystalline life. She gasped. Everything pulsed with Uud. It was like stepping into the soul of the world itself.
And then she turned to Rain and gasped again.
"Rain…" she whispered, "You… You look like them!"
Rain furrowed his brow "Like who?"
She took a step back, eyes wide. "Like them!The Lumins! Your body...it glows like theirs. Your shape is more refined, not quite light, but not fully flesh either. It's like you're made of some in-between substance."
Rain turned to the winged man who had helped them.
The Lumin nodded, as if expecting this very question. "Yes. I noticed it the moment I approached. His Uud signature is unlike anything I've seen in centuries."
Rain looked down at his hands, but they appeared normal to him. "What do you mean?"
"You are not one of us," the Lumin said calmly. "And yet… you carry the mark of those we call the Elder Kind. Gods! your people might say, though the term is misleading."
Irene's voice was small, stunned. "Gods?"
The Lumin continued, "Gods are simply elder Lumins who have ascended beyond tending the world. They command realms of Uud...entire domains where their soul and authority have merged into a singular, eternal law. In these realms, they are the environment, the law, the energy. Their will shapes reality."
Rain was silent, a chill running up his spine.
The Lumin said with solemn curiosity, "Your composition suggests a union between mortality and something far older, something divine. You may not be a god but you carry the breath of one."
Rain's thoughts spiraled. "Could this explain why I've always felt… different? Why my body handles Uud in ways others can't?"
His mind flashed back to questions he'd long buried about his birth, his mother, and the power that surged in him even before he was taught to control it.
But there was no time.
He clenched his fists and turned to Irene. "The exam is still on! We need to move."
Irene hesitated, eyes still locked on him, overwhelmed by awe, fear, and curiosity. 'Who is this boy?' she thought. 'He's only sixteen, but the Lumins see him as kin to the divine?'
She glanced once more at the radiant tree in the distance, then followed Rain out of the luminous world. The water of Uud still clung to their eyes, and even as the shimmering landscape faded into desert and ruin once more, the echo of that hidden truth burned in both their hearts.
Rain marched forward, quiet and determined.
Irene followed close behind.
The Sky Cliff
The announcement rang across the desert with a tone that couldn't hide its irritation:
"Examinees No. 388 and No. 02 have fulfilled the hidden quest for phase two of the entrance exam and will now be transported to the Sky Cliff. Additional rewards will be distributed upon completion of the exam."
A shimmer of light pulsed around Rain and Irene like gentle waves in still water. The heat of the desert faded in an instant.
When they opened their eyes, they stood at the edge of a vast cliff.
The land beneath them plummeted into open sky, and high winds howled along the rim. Across the abyss in the far distance, a floating coliseum shimmered like a mirage, a silver city hanging in the air, its spires catching the sun's light. Between the cliff and the coliseum drifted massive feathers, like sails torn from ancient titans, slowly gliding through the sky.
Rain stepped forward and took one of the feathers by its thick quill. The surface was cool and smooth, not of bird or beast but woven of hardened Uud.
He dropped his pack, pulled free the tightly rolled blades of grass he'd harvested, and began cutting and braiding them into thick, twisting cords. Irene marveled at his genius once more reflecting on the reason he collected giants grass from the garden was apparently for making reigns. She followed his lead without question, already folding and preparing her own feather beside him.
Minutes passed.
Steps approached from behind them, other examinees arriving in bunches. The first few collapsed in exhaustion, panting from their mad sprint across the dunes. Others arrived moments later, their expressions turning sour the moment they saw Rain already preparing.
"That bastard's already here?" one of them spat.
"He didn't even run like the rest of us. Probably cheated," someone muttered.
"I bet he is a special exam candidate."
A particularly seasoned-looking elf, older and scarred, grabbed a feather without a word. With a brief glance to gauge the wind, he leapt off the cliff and disappeared below, his silhouette gliding out of view.
That was the cue! More followed, one by one, some confident, others unsure. They threw themselves off the edge, letting the feathers catch the air like kites.
But Rain and Irene stayed back.
Irene squinted toward the distance. "We should go," she said, brushing a windblown strand of hair from her cheek. "The first sixteen to arrive are the only ones who make it into the tournament. I don't want to miss it."
Rain didn't answer.
He knelt quietly, securing his harness to the feather with thoughtful, meticulous knots. His eyes were locked on the wind, on the drifting pattern of the feathers, on the rise and fall of distant updrafts.
Irene frowned but didn't press him. She'd seen what silence meant for Rain. He wasn't ignoring her. He was thinking. Calculating!
Waiting! The elves nearby murmured.
"He's just showing off."
"Arrogant brat…"
"Probably scared."
But Irene kept watching the sky, then the edge of the cliff, and slowly she began to understand. Rain wasn't just preparing.
He was observing.
Analyzing the way each feather cut through the air… how the wind shifted when someone jumped… how some fell too fast, and others glided farther.
Rain's lips parted slightly, almost a smile. "The wind's almost ready, its almost time!" he said softly.
And then, without looking back, he stood.
He walked to the edge.
And jumped....
Descent into the Coliseum
Rain's voice was calm but firm as he looked toward the windswept horizon.
"It's time."
Without hesitation, he and Irene jumped.
The wind howled in their ears, and the air stretched wide around them. The massive feather beneath them glided smoothly, catching the flow of Uud that danced invisibly through the sky like unseen rivers.
It felt like flight.....like freedom.
Then Irene screamed...
Dark shapes broke through the clouds like living missiles 'Jotun Eagles', their wingspans wide enough to cover a marketplace. Beaks glinting like iron, they shrieked as they dived, plucking examinees one by one from the sky.
It was a trap.
Rain's eyes narrowed. Of course it wouldn't be that easy, he thought. Too convenient. Too simple.
He veered slightly, catching an updraft and evaded the Eagles pursuit but Irene, less experienced, flew too low. One of the eagles spotted her, screeched, and swooped.
Its talons wrapped around her mid-air, lifting her as she screamed.
Rain hesitated for only a moment, then his instincts ignited.
He bent his knees and surged Uud into the feather beneath him. The fibers shimmered with energy, twisting into hardened threads. The feather's soft body compressed into a solid, bladed edge, glowing with heat from the Uud coursing through it.
He gripped it like a sword.
Then he struck.
With a blur of motion, he cleaved through the eagle's torso. Its shriek was cut short, body splitting in two as blood and feathers scattered across the sky.
But his makeshift sword couldn't withstand the surge. The feather fractured mid-air, splintering as Rain grabbed Irene, twisting his body mid-fall to cradle her.
They plummeted.
"Hold on!" he shouted.
Irene clung to him, wide-eyed and breathless. Rain's body began to glow with raw Uud, channeling everything he had into his limbs. His muscles hardened. His senses expanded. He scanned desperately, and spotted it.....
A stray feather, spiraling downward just within reach.
With a burst of Uud-enhanced speed, he launched himself toward it, kicking off air itself in a final aerial maneuver. His hand snatched the feather. He tamed its spin and rode the last gusts of wind, gliding toward the massive coliseum.
Students and instructors, nobles and veterans, all stood at attention on the vast stone terraces. It was tradition, watching the final stretch of the Sky Race, where the chosen few would arrive by flight.
They expected a graceful descent, controlled and elegant.
What they got was an explosion.
A shockwave ripped across the arena as Rain crash-landed, carving a shallow crater in the coliseum's central platform. Dust and light burst into the air, sending the crowd reeling backward.
When the haze cleared, two figures stood in the center of the impact.
Rain, arms wrapped protectively around Irene.
She slowly opened her eyes, coughing. "Are… are we alive?"
Rain set her down gently. "More or less."
Silence blanketed the arena. Then, murmurs began....growing louder with each second.
"Did he just slice a Jotun Eagle mid-air?"
"He fell from the sky.....no, landed....with someone in his arms."
"He made a sword from a feather!"
In the watching gallery, one of the instructors leaned forward. "That's No. 388… Rain, was it?"
The head examiner nodded slowly, eyes sharp with wonder. "That boy… is not just a prodigy. He might be something else entirely."
The Coliseum
The dust was still settling in the coliseum when the voice of an instructor, still clearly processing what he'd witnessed, rang out with a touch of disbelief.....
"Candidate No. 388… although exempt from the racing placement, is the first to arrive at the coliseum. Candidate No. 33 is the second."
A few muffled gasps passed through the ranks of the spectators.
Rain glanced down to find Irene still held safely in his arms. Her eyes met his and quickly darted away. A faint blush colored her cheeks.
"You… you can let me down now," she muttered, suddenly very aware of the closeness.
Rain nodded and gently set her on her feet, silent as always.
Another voice echoed through the coliseum, this time more composed:
"The two of you may rest. Food and refreshments have been prepared at the west bench. Please wait there while the remaining fourteen candidates arrive."
Irene grabbed Rain by the wrist and tugged him toward the bench like a soldier dragging her captain off the battlefield. Her stomach growled before she even reached the table.
Rain sat beside her, sipping water slowly, his eyes still sweeping the sky above for incoming candidates.
Just then, a faint shimmer of silver swept down from the air.
A figure descended gracefully, almost dancing with the wind. He landed in a smooth spin, not a speck of dust on his uniform. His short silver curls framed a composed, aristocratic face, and his grey eyes shimmered with quiet superiority. Every movement spoke of training....noble training.
An announcement followed almost immediately:
"Special exam Candidate 'Ceaser Yvaine Grey' has arrived. Although third to the coliseum, he does not count among the expected fourteen, he has already been admitted through the Special Exam."
The elegant elf, Grey, spared not even a glance for the others. With practiced indifference, he turned on his heel and strode out of the coliseum toward the faculty tower.
Rain watched him leave, his expression unreadable.
"What is the Special Exam?" he asked quietly, turning to Irene.
Her cheeks were full of fruit, and she struggled to speak until she finally swallowed.
"Only elves from noble clans can take it. It's… different. Private! Tailored for their status. They don't have to fight giants or survive deserts like we do. Most of them would just breeze through this general exam anyway."
She poked a piece of fruit thoughtfully, then added:
"But you… I've never seen someone like you. You're not nobility, right?"
Rain shook his head once.
"No clan! No birthright! i don't even have a last name"
Irene stared for a moment. No clan, and yet he rivaled the best of them. Her curiosity deepened. What kind of elf was he really?
Just then, another candidate crash-landed at the far end of the arena—clearly less elegant than Grey. The instructors turned their attention back to managing arrivals, leaving Rain and Irene momentarily to their thoughts.
"I think…" Irene said slowly, "...some of those nobles are going to feel really uncomfortable soon."
Rain didn't answer. But as he sat back, watching the sky, a soft breeze lifted his hair, and the lingering shimmer of Uud sparkled faintly in his eyes.
Coliseum: Beginning of the Battle Royal
One by one, the final candidates arrived staggered, sand-worn, and weary. Some dropped to their knees upon crossing the coliseum threshold, others collapsed in disbelief and exhaustion. But they had made it.
Then, as if on cue, a voice amplified by magic rang out across the towering stone walls of the coliseum:
"Phase Two of the Entrance Exam is now complete. Only the first sixteen candidates shall remain within the arena and wait for the battle royal to determine the first spot for the General Entrance Exam (GEE). All other examinees are to report to the faculty courtyard for dormitory assignment and wait for orientation the next day."
Murmurs spread among the crowd as the disqualified examinees slowly began to leave. Some cried, others clenched their fists but most accepted their fate. They had passed the entrance exam but they would not receive the highest honors.
The voice continued, now drawing attention to the remaining elite:
"Making it to the coliseum within the allotted time is a feat worthy of admission. However, only the first sixteen receive full scholarships to the Academy in addition to the chance of joining the Royal army of 'Sentinel Elves' upon graduation."
A hush fell across the arena.
Then, with heavy weight:
"And the winner of first place in the upcoming final phase will be granted entrance to the Royal Class where all Special Entrance Exam (SEE) candidates have already been placed."
Gasps rippled through the examinees and watching faculty alike.
Among the finalists, an elf with short black hair, sweat-streaked and still gripping his makeshift spear, snarled under his breath:
"Tch… I couldn't pass the Special Exam... now I have to compete with No.388 for the one spot left in the Royal Class."
His lip curled into a bitter grin.
"Fine! I'll take it from him with my own hands."
Then came the final announcement.
"The last phase… is a Battle Royal between all sixteen candidates."
There was a beat of silence, like a held breath.
Then.....
GONNNNGGGGGGGG!
A massive bell tolled at the top of the arena, its chime like thunder slamming into the stone. The air vibrated with energy. The moment the bell stopped echoing, every eye turned to Rain. Some with hatred! Some with fear! Others with pure bloodlust! Sixteen had made it. But there would be only one victor. And right now, every single candidate knew one thing:
No.388 was the biggest threat in the arena.
Irene stepped slightly closer to Rain, her brow tight with anxiety.
"They're all going to come for you first…"
Rain said nothing. He took a step forward. Then another....His presence was calm, unreadable but his eyes shimmered, faintly glowing with the subtle flow of Uud. He reached for a blade of grass still tied to his belt from the desert and slowly began winding it between his fingers calm, fluid and focused.
From the stands above, a pair of high-ranking instructors leaned in to whisper.
"If he survives this… the Royal Class won't know what hit them."
With an effortless pivot, he raised his hand and backhanded the attacker so hard that the elf spun mid-air before slamming into the stone wall of the coliseum. Dust rose from the impact.
The crowd erupted in roars....half in amazement, half in disbelief.
Rain didn't even look back at his first opponent. His eyes were already scanning the rest.
Then suddenly, the temperature dropped. A chill swept across the arena floor. Snowflakes began to fall, unnatural and slow, like a painting come to life. The air grew sharp with biting cold, and Rain narrowed his eyes. Someone was manipulating an ice-based authority.
He shifted slightly, drawing from the flow of Uud around him but before he could move, a sharp whistle cut through the frozen silence.
Whoosh!
An ice spear passed his ear with a whisper, barely missing him. The crowd gasped.
Rain moved like a shadow, dodging a second projectile with inhuman grace. Another elf leapt at him from the flank, only to be met with a solid knee to the ribs that sent him sprawling in the snow.
Rain's long silver hair flowed behind him, streaked with snow as he wove through the chaos, every movement was precise, deliberate, and almost rhythmic. His opponents were attacking in waves, trying to overwhelm him, but it only made it easier to predict their patterns.
Irene, still watching from the benches, clutched her hands together, tension written on her face. She knew Rain wasn't just fighting.....he was hunting.
He was searching for the one responsible for the ice.