Caelan woke before the first light of dawn.
For a few seconds, he lay still, listening to the quiet sounds of the house. A floorboard creaked downstairs. Something clinked in the kitchen, followed by his mother's voice and his father's low reply.
Then he remembered.
Today, they were leaving Westmere.
He dressed, checked the travel pouch beside his bed, and made his way downstairs. His packed belongings were already waiting near the door.
Elara was wrapping bread and dried fruit in a cloth. Garrick stood outside, inspecting the wagon's harness while their horse stamped impatiently against the cold.
"Eat first," Elara said when she saw him. "The road won't wait for you, but neither will your stomach."
Caelan sat down and finished breakfast. He had traveled with his father before, but never this far, and never for something that would determine the direction of his next several years.
After breakfast, he carried his belongings outside.
Garrick checked the straps on the travel pouch before securing it beneath the seat. "Keep your registration papers somewhere you can reach them easily. Don't bury them beneath your books."
"I've already put them in the inner pocket."
"Good."
There was no long farewell. Their neighbors had been informed of the trip, and Serah had wished him luck the previous evening. Tomas and Mira had promised to send letters if anything interesting happened in Westmere, though Tomas's definition of interesting remained questionable.
Caelan climbed into the wagon.
When the wheels began turning, he looked back at the village. The familiar roofs and narrow lanes slowly disappeared behind the trees.
Then the road bent east, and Westmere was gone from sight.
The first hours passed through familiar countryside.
Farmers were already working their fields. Small settlements appeared at intervals along the road, each with its own well, market shelter, and protective enchantments. Garrick pointed out the boundary markers as they passed, explaining which belonged to the local settlements and which were maintained by the regional authorities.
Caelan listened while keeping an eye on the road.
At one junction, three roads met beside a stone pillar covered in engraved symbols. A merchant's wagon had stopped nearby, its driver arguing with a road official.
"The western route is closed," the official insisted. "A survey team found unstable mana beneath the old bridge."
"How long will it remain closed?"
"Until the engineers finish their inspection."
The merchant swore under his breath and began turning his wagon around.
Caelan watched the exchange.
"Does unstable mana usually affect an entire bridge?" he asked after they had passed.
"It depends on what's beneath it," Garrick replied. "The bridge might be perfectly sound while the ground around its foundations is affected. Or the bridge itself could contain an enchantment that's reacting to the disturbance."
"Would they dismantle it?"
"If necessary. But first, they'll investigate."
"Even if the road is closed for weeks?"
"Especially then. A quick repair that fails beneath a loaded wagon isn't a repair worth making."
"And most of them still complain about the cost of doing things properly," Garrick added.
The conversation ended when the road grew rougher. Garrick concentrated on steering around a series of deep ruts, while Caelan held his bag steady against the wagon's movement.
By midday, the familiar countryside had given way to wider fields, busier settlements, and stretches of woodland maintained along the main trade route. The traffic increased as they approached the capital's outer region.
They passed merchants carrying enchanted tools, families traveling in enclosed carriages, and several groups of young people wearing the same dark-blue coats.
Caelan recognized the silver emblem stitched onto their sleeves: a tower surrounded by a ring of runes.
"The academy?" he asked.
"Students returning after the seasonal break," Elara said. "Some may be older students, though the uniforms vary by department."
Caelan watched one group disappear along a side road.
He wondered what they had learned during their years there, what mistakes they had made, and how much of their knowledge came from lessons that could never be found in an introductory book.
Then a loud crack came from behind them.
The wagon lurched.
Garrick immediately pulled the reins, guiding the horse toward the roadside before bringing the vehicle to a stop.
"What happened?" Elara asked.
"Something came loose."
Caelan climbed down while his father checked the rear wheel. One of the metal fastenings holding a storage crate had snapped, allowing the crate to slide sideways and strike the wagon's frame.
"Nothing serious," Garrick said. "But we'll need to secure it properly."
Caelan fetched a spare fastening from the tool compartment. While Garrick adjusted the crate, he held the loose strap in place and checked the remaining fastenings for damage.
When everything was secured, Garrick tested the crate with a firm push.
"That should hold."
They resumed their journey.
It was a minor interruption, but it cost them nearly half an hour. By the time they reached the next roadside station, the sun had moved well past its highest point.
They stopped to rest the horse and buy water. The station was crowded with travelers, several of whom were discussing the academy entrance assessments.
A broad-shouldered man in a travel-stained coat stood near the counter, speaking to a woman carrying a stack of documents.
"My son arrived yesterday," he said. "Apparently, they've changed the preliminary examination again."
"Changed it how?"
"Nobody knows exactly. The academy sent out a notice about additional practical evaluations, but they haven't released the details."
Caelan paused beside the counter.
The woman shook her head. "They always do that. They don't want candidates preparing for a single demonstration and neglecting everything else."
"Or they simply enjoy making parents nervous."
"That too."
Caelan bought a bottle of water and returned to the wagon without interrupting them.
Garrick noticed his expression. "Something interesting?"
"May have?"
"That's what they said. They didn't seem certain."
"Then don't let an uncertain rumor change your preparation."
"I wasn't planning to."
"Good. You've done what you can. The rest will depend on what they actually ask you to do."
Caelan climbed back into the wagon.
He had spent weeks imagining the assessment, but the conversation at the station had reminded him of something useful: no amount of speculation would give him access to the examination before it began.
He could only arrive prepared and work with what he was given.
They spent the final stretch of the journey beneath a sky turning gold at the edges.
The road widened, and the traffic grew heavier. Tall stone markers appeared at regular intervals, each carrying the seal of the capital's administration. Enchanted lamps stood along the roadside, their glass housings catching the evening light.
In the distance, the outer walls of Aurelion rose above the surrounding land.
Caelan sat straighter.
He had seen illustrations of the capital in books, but the real structure was far larger than he had imagined. Its walls stretched across the horizon, interrupted by watchtowers and broad gates through which a steady stream of travelers passed.
Beyond the walls, the upper floors of buildings crowded the skyline. He could make out the spires of several public towers, the roofs of large halls, and distant structures whose purposes he could only guess.
Somewhere inside that city stood the Royal Academy of Magical Studies.
Garrick slowed the wagon as they joined the growing line of travelers heading toward the main entrance.
"We'll find an inn first," he said. "Tomorrow, we'll confirm your registration and locate the assessment building."
Caelan checked that his papers were secure in the inner pocket of his travel pouch.
"Understood."
Elara looked at him with a small smile. "You sound like your father."
"That's not necessarily a compliment," Garrick said.
"It depends on the circumstances."
The wagon advanced several lengths before stopping again. Guards checked documents at the gate, merchants waited with their goods, and families gathered their belongings in preparation for entering the city.
Caelan watched the gates draw closer.
He had left Westmere with books, notes, and a collection of lessons learned through years of practice. None of those things guaranteed success. But he was no longer the small child struggling to make a training crystal respond.
He had improved, even if the progress had been slow.
Ahead, a guard signaled for the next wagon to advance.
Garrick gathered the reins.
"Ready?"
Caelan looked toward the city beyond the walls.
"Ready."
The wagon moved forward.