The Abyss-Touched Mage

The moment Raine stepped out of the testing chamber, he knew something was wrong.

The corridors of the Arcanum were always cold, but this was different. The chill clung to his skin, coiling beneath his ribs like something alive.

The officials hadn't spoken to him. Not a single word. No placement. No ranking.

Just silence.

The other examinees had been ushered away—to their futures, to their expected paths. But Raine?

He had been led here.

Away from the others. Away from the main halls.

He followed the robed attendant through twisting corridors, his own footsteps muffled against the smooth stone floor. The air felt too thick, pressing against his lungs with each step.

Something was wrong.

He could still feel the Resonance Stone beneath his fingers, the lingering cold that had surged up his arm when it cracked.

That wasn't supposed to happen.

The attendant guiding him walked stiffly, his posture too rigid, too measured. His pace never slowed, never faltered.

They were keeping their distance.

Not physically. But Raine could feel it.

They were afraid.

The hallway stretched on, each flickering torch casting shifting shadows against the walls. The silence wasn't natural.

Raine's fingers curled at his sides. He wanted to speak. Demand an answer. What had happened back there? Why had the stone reacted that way?

But something in the way the attendant moved—too precise, too detached—told him that he wouldn't get one.

Not yet.

Finally, they stopped.

A heavy wooden door loomed in front of them, its iron hinges blackened with age. The attendant pressed a hand against it, pushing it open. The chamber beyond was small. Bare.

Not an office. Not the hall where the rankings were announced.

Just a room.

A holding cell.

The attendant stepped aside. "Wait here."

Raine frowned. "For how long?"

The man didn't answer. He simply turned and shut the door behind him.

A bolt slid into place.

Raine exhaled slowly. They were locking him in.

The room was empty save for a wooden bench against the far wall. No tapestries. No bookshelves. No windows.

Just stone.

Thick. Heavy. Impenetrable.

He had seen enough of the Arcanum's structure to know what this was.

This wasn't a waiting room.

It was a containment chamber.

Minutes stretched.

Raine paced, his breath controlled, but his heartbeat hammering against his ribs. The Arcanum had protocols. There were records of every Resonance Test. Every result was immediately categorized, ranked, assigned.

Except his.

He stopped mid-step.

Are they trying to decide what to do with me?

The thought sent a cold shudder through his chest.

Outside the door, muffled voices. Low. Urgent. Arguing.

Then—footsteps.

The bolt slid back.

The door opened.

A different attendant stood there. Older. His expression carefully neutral.

But Raine saw the tension in his shoulders. The way his eyes never quite met his.

"Your results are under review," he said. His voice was clipped. Too formal. "You will receive placement in due time. Until then, you are not to leave the city."

Raine's stomach twisted.

Not to leave?

"That's—"

"You are dismissed."

There was finality in his tone.

No room for protest.

A cold weight settled in Raine's chest.

He stepped forward, past the threshold. The hall outside was too empty.

No other examinees.

No bustling officials.

Only robed figures standing too still. Watching him.

Raine's fingers twitched at his sides. His breathing stayed even, but his mind was racing.

He forced himself to walk. Steady. Controlled. Not too fast. Not too slow.

Don't run.

Running would confirm their fears.

Running would mark him.

The great marble archway leading outside was just ahead. Beyond it, the streets of Vaelora. Crowded. Loud. Safe.

The guards flanking the entrance didn't move.

But their hands rested too casually on the hilts of their blades.

They were waiting.

Raine stepped into the open air.

Cold wind hit his skin, sharp and biting. But he didn't stop. Not yet.

Not until he had reached the main streets, where the crowd swallowed him whole.

Only then did he slow.

His pulse still hammered.

They knew.

They didn't know what he was.

But they knew he wasn't normal.

Which meant he had one option.

He had to leave.

Tonight.