"Astel, it's time!" a stern voice resounded from a nearby hall.
'Finally,' Astel thought as he got up from his seat and patted the dust off his clothes. He turned toward the other children sitting in the hallway.
"Alright guys, I've gotta go. Good luck!"
"Yeah, good luck, Astel," two kids responded. Both were dressed in the school's training robes, decorated with a shining silver pin in the shape of nine equal-sized circles, each connected together and marked with a small symbol in the center.
Astel took a few steps toward a pair of giant wooden doors. They towered over him, making him feel small and insignificant—which did nothing to calm his nerves. He pushed against the doors. Despite their massive size, they opened rather easily under his touch.
As the doors opened and the gap widened, an overwhelming pressure began to flood the hallway, pressing against Astel's mind.
Light from the hall poured through the opening, momentarily blinding him. He shielded his eyes until they adjusted.
When he could finally see again, two adults stood tall above a small group of seated children. The children wore the same training robes as Astel and the others in the hallway. They, however, didn't pay any attention to Astel's arrival—they looked as if they were in a trance.
"Come, Astel," the same stern voice echoed in his mind.
He looked toward the two instructors and realized neither had opened their mouth. He still wasn't used to this kind of communication. The one who had spoken—through thoughts—pointed to a spot on the ground beside the other children.
Astel made his way there and sat down cross-legged, mimicking the others.
"Are you ready?" the voice asked.
Astel hesitated for a moment, then gave a slow nod. The instructor returned the gesture.
"All right, let's begin. Close your eyes and try to sense my voice."
Astel nodded again. After a few seconds, he signaled that he had found the instructor's voice within his mind.
"Now try gathering as much energy as possible in this exact spot."
Following the voice's instructions, Astel began to focus. He exhaled slowly, trying to feel his surroundings with all his senses, calming his thoughts and emptying his mind of distractions.
Minutes passed.
Astel had cleared all thoughts except for raw sensory input. Then, gradually, he began omitting even that—one sense at a time. Sight and taste had already faded. Touch was the easiest to release next, followed by smell. Only hearing remained.
Then his mind began to feel too empty.
It started to invent noises to fill the void—every breath taken in the room, the rising and falling of chests, the subtle pulse of blood flowing through veins. The sensation escalated quickly. But with how focused Astel was, even that experience faded from his awareness.
Then came the ringing.
A high-pitched tone filled his ears, climbing in frequency until it hurt. And then—nothing.
Silence. True nothingness.
His mind was blank.
Then he felt it—energy. Flowing from his mind into every corner of his body. It felt like the only thing that existed. He was the only thing that existed.
He focused on each stream of energy, one by one, redirecting them toward the spot where the voice had been. Slowly, more and more energy gathered, clashing with itself. Sometimes the collisions were violent, like explosions. Other times, the streams merged.
From the chaos, a marble of energy began to form in his mind. It grew—brighter, denser. As it swelled, something stirred in his subconscious. When the marble reached a certain size, a gate within his mind opened. A powerful force took hold of the marble and drew it inside.
The moment the marble entered that gate, Astel's mind lit up.
He was no longer sitting.
He was falling through the sky.
His senses returned, as did his thoughts. A thick grayish fog surrounded him. And beyond it, only one thing was visible: stars. Stars of all colors, sizes, and shapes, scattered across the endless sky.
Enamored by the breathtaking view, he failed to notice the shift around him.
The fog darkened.
Then, a sudden flash.
An image blazed across his mind.
He saw the interior of what looked like a medieval hall. Before him stood a round table carved from stone, a single tall chair placed behind it.
But he had no time to process the vision—it was already gone.
His awareness returned, but the stars had already vanished. The fog was gone.
He was lying on a bed in a small room with wooden walls. A comfortable warmth enveloped him. His head rested on a feather pillow, his body covered by a soft animal hide.
Astel stayed still for a while, enjoying the warmth before slowly rising from the bed. He walked toward the door.
'I wonder if those tests were accurate, he thought as he reached for the handle. No matter which fragment I'm in, I have to conquer it… and catch up to Lyra.'
He turned the handle and opened the door.
A rich aroma—something home-cooked—greeted him.
And so did two unfamiliar faces.
"Look who decided to grace us with their presence," a woman chuckled.
The man beside her nodded in greeting. "Good morning," he said.
Still dazed, Astel stared at them, confusion flickering in his eyes as his thoughts caught up with him.
"Good morning?" he echoed, uncertain.