Kingdom of Verdwryn

The recruits gathered in the camp's central yard under the morning sun, its warmth doing little to dispel the tension in the air. At the front of the assembly stood the Priest and Captain Garren, flanking two stacks of scrolls—one marked with glowing arcane sigils and the other bound in sturdy leather, stamped with martial symbols.

The Priest raised a hand, silencing the murmurs. "Today, you take your first steps toward the path that will define your future. Before you are two cultivation manuals: one for mages and one for knights. These represent two distinct paths to power. Each path demands discipline, determination, and years of effort to master."

He gestured to the glowing scrolls. "The mage's path is one of intellect, willpower, and mastery of mana. Through cultivation and technique, mages ascend the ranks: Apprentice, Adept, Master, and beyond. Those who break through to level ten become Archmages, but this is a feat few achieve. The mage's power lies in shaping the world, channeling mana internally and externally to cast spells and manipulate the elements."

Captain Garren took a step forward, his grizzled voice commanding attention. "The knight's path is no less demanding. It's not just about swinging a sword—it's about honing your body and spirit to draw upon mana, forging yourself into an indomitable force. Knights ascend through the ranks of Squire, Knight, Champion, and Paragon. Those who reach the pinnacle channel their mana with the strength and precision of mythical beasts."

The Priest raised a cautioning finger. "I must warn you: attempting to walk both paths often leads to failure. Each requires singular focus and years of dedication. Splitting your effort between them weakens your progress in both. Rare is the individual who can master both, and most who try fall behind."

The recruits exchanged uncertain glances, but the Priest pressed on.

"Before you make your choice, we will test your affinity for the mage's path and the knight's path. For mages, I will evaluate your mana sensitivity, soul strength, and elemental affinity. Each of you is born with a natural inclination toward one of the elements—fire, water, earth, air, lightning, or space. Lightning and space are uncommon, but the rarest are light and dark, which appear only once in generations."

The recruits murmured again, this time with excitement and trepidation. The Priest held up a glowing crystal. "Step forward, one by one, and place your hands on this crystal. It will reveal your soul strength and elemental affinity."

One by one, the recruits stepped forward, their faces a mix of apprehension and curiosity. The crystal flared with varying intensities, its colors shifting to reveal each recruit's affinity. Reds for fire, blues for water, browns for earth, yellows for lightning, purple for space, and whites or blacks for the rare light and dark affinities.

When Michael's turn came, he stepped forward with a steady gaze. The crystal flared brightly the moment his hands touched it, glowing a vibrant green.

"Wood," the Priest said, his tone tinged with surprise. "Uncommon, but not unheard of. Those with wood affinity often excel in healing, growth, and vitality. The path is less destructive than fire or lightning, but it is no less potent."

The crystal's brightness persisted, and the Priest's brows furrowed as the light intensified. "Your soul strength... it's remarkable. Three to four times stronger than your peers. Such strength would make you an exceptional mage if only your talent were higher. With a blue core, you may reach Adept Mage or, if you defy the odds, Master. A shame. If your talent had been green or higher, you could have achieved far greater heights."

Michael stepped back, his thoughts swirling. A strong soul but limited talent—a cruel irony.

But the Priest's eyes narrowed, and he glanced at Michael more closely, sensing something strange. "Wait... there's more to this. Your affinities—water, earth, and nature—are exceptional." His voice softened, and the surprise was clear in his eyes. "Most people with such affinities would awaken one of the more common elements. But you, with your rare combination of water, earth, and nature... it's no wonder you've awakened wood. Few have this combination, and that you can control wood means you have the potential to walk a path few others could."

Michael stood still, a wave of surprise running through him. He had never considered that his affinity for nature might lead to such an awakening. The thought of having a rare talent, one that was bound to nature and life itself, stirred something deep inside him.

Next came the knight's test. Captain Garren lined the recruits up and began appraising them one by one. He checked their strength, reflexes, and endurance, feeling the density of their muscles and the resilience of their bodies.

When it was Michael's turn, Garren gripped his arm, his eyes narrowing as he evaluated the boy. "Hmph. Strong build, good reflexes, and a frame that can take punishment. You're made for this, lad. With proper training, you could go far."

As Michael stepped back, weighing the two paths, a familiar sensation washed over him. The Everwinds stirred again, their ethereal presence whispering across his skin. Though no words were spoken aloud, he felt the meaning resonate within him: Both.

Michael's breath hitched. The winds had guided him before, and now they urged him toward a path no one had dared suggest. The whispers of the crowd faded into the background as he stared at the two stacks of scrolls.

Finally, he stepped forward, his voice steady. "I choose both."

The yard fell silent. The Priest frowned deeply. "Do you understand what you're saying? Few succeed in such an endeavor, and most fail spectacularly."

Captain Garren crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You've got guts, lad. Let's see if you've got the grit to back it up."

Michael picked up one scroll from each pile, the weight of his choice heavy in his hands. Though the murmurs of doubt persisted around him, his resolve remained unshaken. He would forge his own path, no matter how impossible it seemed.

The Priest's eyes darkened as he stepped closer. "Few have tried to walk both paths, and none have succeeded in their entirety. You are already walking a razor's edge, Michael. One misstep, and your efforts will be for naught. There are consequences to ambition."

Michael's hand moved toward both scrolls, drawn as if by some invisible force. His heart pounded in his chest, but it was no longer fear he felt. It was resolve. The winds whispered in his ear once more, urging him onward. He had made his decision before the words left his lips. "I choose both."

The recruits exchanged uneasy glances, their murmurs growing louder. Michael felt their gazes burning into his back, but he didn't flinch. He was past the point of turning back. This was his path to carve, and no one would define it for him.

Captain Garren's voice, rough as stone, followed. "A man like you? You've got what it takes. But don't expect mercy. Neither path will be easy. Choose wisely, lad. This world has a way of testing a man's mettle."

As Michael turned to walk away, the weight of his decision settled around him like a heavy cloak. He had chosen the harder road—one that would test his very limits. And he would not fail.