Whispers of Magic

Chapter 1: Worthy

A knot of apprehension tightens in my stomach as I peer down at the waking city of Aurelia below. The sun bathes the landscape in the first light of dawn, a sight which usually brings me peace through its sheer beauty. However, today, its radiant glow does nothing to calm the nerves coursing through me. It's been eleven winters since I witnessed the death of my mother, and today, the memory is strong in my mind.

In a few short hours, my fate will be sealed, my life's path set, and it is entirely beyond my control. The Arcanum Manifestation Celebration looms, and though most who come of age today are eager, all I yearn for is escape.

The unease grips me until the dawn breaks across the horizon. Sitting perched on one of the highest spires connected to our training grounds, my eyes sweep above the distant mountain range and down to my clothes. Clad in ivory robes mirroring the pale mountains under the waking sky, I feel overdressed. My long, pointed ears peek through my white cascading hair. My clothes are a visual representation of the ancient traditions I would be participating in today. The Plunge.

Sheathed disc blades and a finely crafted bow adorn my back, symbols of acquired skills that, despite their reassurance, do little to dispel the lingering apprehension. They will be of no use in the ritual later in the day. The Plunge is all about the arcane.

As I Survey the city, the sounds of clamoring over the shingles on the opposite side of the spire reach my ears.

"Are you ready for the celebration, Elessida?" Seraphine's voice, urgent and excited, breaks through my contemplation. She approaches, her presence casting a momentary shadow on the cold stones beneath us, her attire identical to mine except for her lack of weaponry. And her hair, which she keeps shoulder-length.

I face her, pushing my unease to the back of my mind. "I wish I could be as excited as you are, Seraphine. My heart is in my mouth instead of my chest, where it belongs."

Seraphine sighs, her gaze filled with concern. "I don't understand why you are so worried about this, Elessida. It's just a simple ritual; at the end, we will know our magical alignments. Doesn't sound so bad, does it?"

I do a once-over of my sister and appreciate how much she has grown in the past few years. She is petite like me, small for our kind. She looks similar to our father, inheriting his eyes the color of honey and his angular face. I take after our mother, with blue eyes so light they are commonly mistaken for silver.

I replied to her question, knowing she didn't really want an answer. "There is nothing simple about it, and you must keep it in mind. Magic is a force as wild and untamed as the mountain peaks surrounding our city. It's not a toy to be played with; it's a visceral, unpredictable power that flows like a tempest through the fabric of our existence." I let my little rant sink into her before I continue.

"It is dangerous. There is a reason why we have to train so much in preparation for today, both physically and mentally. There is no way of knowing if we will survive the Plunge." My heated words emerge in visible breaths in the morning air's chill. Peering out of the side of my eyes, I see Seraphine's excited mood soften, the severity of my speech hitting her. Good. Her easygoing nature was not going to do her any favors today.

I turn back toward the city, uncertainty furrowing my brow as I scan the elven realm below. The people, each displaying a spectrum of different colored hair—hallmarks of their respective alignments—begin to stir. They have all gone through the Plunge and survived, I thought. My mother survived this trial, so why wouldn't I.

Unbeknownst to the crowd below, my eyes watching from atop the spire. Many white-haired elves matching my traditional Ivory clothes mingle below, signifying those participating in today's manifestation ritual.