It was dark when Yilan woke, squeezed between her sisters and the rough wall of their cramped apartment. She slipped free from their tattered blanket, her bare feet finding the spaces between her sisters' sleeping forms. The square apartment was so small that in just a few steps, she had crossed its entire length.
The kitchen was little more than a stone fireplace and a wooden counter. With the only light coming from the embers of the fireplace, Yilan moved through it with the muscle memory of routine. She sliced a small loaf of coarse barley bread and spread a spoonful of lentil mash. The same meager portions had sustained them through countless mornings just like this one for the past seven years.
With any luck, today will be our last day eating like this. Tomorrow, salted pork and honey cakes.
The guild presentation happened annually. Anyone from a magical bloodline could present their skills before the guilds and be accepted into their ranks. At twenty, Yilan would be among the younger candidates, having just reached the age cutoff. She'd certainly be the only one who had never attended any school in Belhae. But she didn't have the luxury of time that other mages enjoyed. Her sisters depended on her.
"Yining, Yina," she called. "Time to get up."
Under the dim light of the fireplace, the sisters gathered around a stack of crates that served as their dining table and began eating.
Through the thin walls, they could hear muffled voices from the room next door. Outside their single window, dawn was upon the city, and footsteps echoed in the narrow alley below as other families began their morning rituals.
When they finished breakfast, Yilan gathered their dishes into the washing basin and tucked a small parcel of bread into each of their bags. Yina was already by the door, smoothing her carefully patched clothing, but Yining dawdled packing her school satchel.
"Yining, hurry up. Today is important, remember?" Yilan ordered.
The stairwell echoed with their footsteps as they descended five floors to the street level. Yilan guided her sisters through the winding streets of Belhae. Narrow buildings of sunbaked plaster and pale limestone rose on either side, their terracotta roofs catching the early light. Sunlight had finally broken through the morning haze, casting a golden sheen over the cobbles and lighting up the colorful displays in the shopfronts.
"Oh, look!" Yina suddenly tugged on Yilan's sleeve, stopping before a bakery with an elaborate window display.
Tarts glazed with shining fruit lined up like gemstones. Yina pressed her face against the window. "Don't people eat tarts on their birthdays here?"
Yina's birthday! It was only three days away. How had she forgotten? The realization made Yilan's stomach clench with guilt.
Yina was small for her age, shorter than Yilan or Yining were at that age, and with round cheeks that befitted the baby sister Yilan had always known. Yet, Yina was turning thirteen, a number that seemed impossibly large to Yilan.
Because it was the age Yilan was when their parents were killed. When Mingyue fell. The three girls arrived in Belhae on a tiny fishing boat propelled with the last of their mother's magic. They were not met with the warmth of a kind lord's pity nor the embrace of an elderly couple with grown children, but stark indifference. They spent nights on the docks, grateful for the lingering summer warmth, dreading the inevitable arrival of snow. Yilan used her water magic to scrub floors, found an apartment, and learned to cook and clean, tasks that in Mingyue were reserved for the servants that served her family. She had convinced herself that she could take care of her sisters. At thirteen, she felt like an adult, especially standing next to ten-year-old Yining and six-year-old Yina.
Yet now, looking at Yina, Yilan wondered if she herself had really been this small at thirteen.
Her eyes skimming the price tags, Yilan mentally recalled her ledgers where she recorded every expense for the week and made budgets for the upcoming months. Even the smallest pastry in that window would cost nearly a day's wages at the inn. But she wouldn't be working there for much longer. "Wait until I get into the guild," she promised. "I'll buy something for you."
"Really?" Yina's face lit up, and she seemed to bounce with each step as they continued walking.
"Once I join the guild, we'll have a lot of things we don't have," Yilan continued. "We'll be able to afford proper meals. You and Yining will attend the guild magic school. We can move into a proper house, like the one we used to live in."
"Nothing will be like the house we lived in," Yining said flatly. Her expression remained unreadable, as it often was these days.
They reached the school, a modest stone building. "Be good at school," Yilan said softly, giving both sisters a gentle nudge toward the door.
Soon her sisters would attend a much better school, one that taught more than basic letters and simple needlework. They'd learn literature, history, politics, and even magic, just like the academy back home. Still, for now, it was important her sisters were fluent and well-read in the local language, or else they'd fall behind.
As Yilan continued alone, the merchant district transformed into the central square. The guild hall of Sapphire Skies rose before Yilan like a testament to Belhae's prosperity, its honey-colored stone façade gleaming in the midmorning sun. Tall, narrow windows lined the building's face in perfect symmetry, each crowned with delicate stone tracery. She'd seen it from a distance countless times during her years in Belhae, but standing at its base made her feel smaller than she ever had in her life. It was twice as large as the university her mother had taught at.
Yilan paused at the bottom of the wide marble steps, her heart hammering against her ribs. Other candidates climbed past her, some alone, others accompanied by family members who whispered last-minute encouragements. Yilan smoothed her dress, the deep blue fabric she'd carefully mended just last night to hide a small tear near the hem. It was simple compared to the rich silks and velvets worn by other candidates, but it was the only thing she had.
Taking a breath to steady herself, Yilan climbed the steps and stepped through the grand oak doors, crossing the threshold to her future. Inside the grand entrance hall, she found herself directed toward a long line of candidates waiting to register.
When the man in front of her reached the registration counter, a middle-aged woman with graying hair pulled back in an efficient bun looked up with a warm smile.
"Dario Montanari! How wonderful to see you again. I trust your travels went well?"
"Very well, thank you, Mrs. Corvina," he replied easily. "Though I'll be glad to sleep in my own bed again."
They chatted briefly about his journey while she filled out his paperwork. Clearly, he was a familiar face here, probably from one of the established magical families. He was dressed in fine indigo robes, his boots unsullied as if he had ridden a carriage here.
When he finally left the counter, Yilan stepped forward. Mrs. Corvina greeted her with a professional smile.
"Name?"
"Yilan Wu."
"Element?"
"Water magic."
"Birthdate and place of birth?"
Yilan provided the information, watching as the woman carefully recorded each detail in her ledger.
"Proceed to the great hall and wait for your group to be called," Mrs. Corvina instructed, handing her a small wooden plaque with a symbol and the number fifteen carved into it.
The great hall was even more impressive than the entrance, with soaring ceilings supported by graceful arches and tall windows that filled the space with golden light. Candidates clustered in small groups throughout the room, some sitting on the provided benches, others pacing nervously.
Yilan found an empty spot along one wall and settled in to wait. Nearby, she overheard Dario talking with a girl about his age with elaborate blonde curls.
He ran a hand through his dark hair. "I'm more nervous than I expected. I barely had time to study these past few months with my travels."
The girl laughed, a cultivated, musical sound. "Dario, you shouldn't worry. You were one of the better students at the academy."
"Theory and practice are different things," Dario replied, although he looked somewhat reassured by her words.
Suddenly Dario's attention shifted to Yilan. "I don't think we've met. Where are you from?"
"Mingyue," Yilan replied quietly.
Dario's brow furrowed slightly. "Mingyue? I'm not familiar with that city. What academy did you graduate from there?"
Yilan's stomach dropped. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, heat rising in her cheeks. She had never graduated, had never even attended the academy back home. The grand institution with its soaring towers and ancient libraries lay buried under rubble now, along with everything else she'd once known.
The blonde girl snorted softly. "She doesn't even understand our language," she remarked, her eyes flicking over Yilan's simple dress with obvious disdain.
Before Yilan could formulate a response, a guild official's voice boomed across the great hall. "All fire mages, please proceed to examination room one."
Both Dario and the girl rose from their seats. Dario offered Yilan an apologetic smile. Yilan watched them go, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.
After half an hour of tense waiting, another guild official appeared at the entrance to the great hall.
"All water mages, please proceed to examination room two."
Yilan's heart lurched as she stood on unsteady legs, joining the small group of water practitioners making their way toward the designated room. There were twenty-six of them, far fewer than the fire mages who had been called earlier.
The examination room was nothing like what she had imagined. Instead of a simple testing space, she found herself facing a vast chamber with semi-circular rows of seats rising up like an amphitheater. And filling those seats were dozens of guild mages, their robes marking them as masters of various elements, all watching with evaluating eyes.
Yilan felt herself shrink inward as she took in the sea of faces above her. The other water mage candidates seemed equally overwhelmed, though a few managed to maintain composed expressions. She found herself positioned near the center of the small group, directly in the line of sight of what appeared to be the most senior guild members in the front rows.
The weight of their collective gaze weighed down on her. These were the people who would determine her future, who held the power to lift her sisters out of poverty or condemn them to remain forever in that cramped apartment, eating stale bread and counting every coin.
Standing there in her carefully mended dress, surrounded by the opulent architecture and the silent judgment of the guild's elite, Yilan had never felt smaller or more out of place in her entire life.
A distinguished guild master in deep blue robes stepped forward. "Candidates will present themselves one by one. State your name, your training, and demonstrate your abilities."
The first candidate, a confident young woman with auburn hair, stepped forward with practiced poise. "Honored guild members, I am Serafina Marcelli."
She raised her hands gracefully, and suddenly dozens of delicate water butterflies materialized, their translucent wings catching the light as they fluttered in perfect formation around her head.
Yilan's breath caught. Serafina was extracting moisture directly from the air itself, condensing it into those intricate forms. It was a skill Yilan had barely considered, let alone practiced.
Panic fluttered in her chest as she watched the other candidates. She deliberately positioned herself last in line.
When her turn finally came, Yilan's legs felt unsteady as she walked to the center. "Honored guild members," she began, her voice smaller than she'd intended. "I am Yilan Wu of Mingyue."
She didn't elaborate on her training or lack thereof. Instead, she closed her eyes, shutting out the sea of watching faces. Drawing moisture from the air around her, she began to shape it with trembling fingers.
But there wasn't enough. The thin wisps of water she'd gathered wouldn't fill out the solid form she'd originally planned. In a moment of desperate inspiration, she shifted her approach, crafting instead a hollow design—the delicate outline of a koi fish, its body a mere shell of water that curved and flowed in an endless loop.
It was infinitely harder than simply shaping a solid mass, requiring her to maintain the precise tension and flow that kept the hollow form intact. But as the ethereal fish swam through the air above her palms, its empty body catching and refracting the chamber's light, she heard several soft murmurs of appreciation from the watching guild masters.
When she finally let it dissolve back into mist, Yilan opened her eyes to find several of the senior mages leaning forward in their seats, their expressions unreadable but attentive.
What followed was a series of increasingly demanding practical tests. After what felt like an eternity, Yilan thought she might collapse from exhaustion. Just when she wondered if she could maintain even the simplest water form for another moment, the guild master rose from his seat.
"Thank you for your demonstrations. If I call your name, you have met the base requirements for joining the guild. I will call first the candidates with the highest scores."
"Yilan Wu."
Relief flooded through her so suddenly that she nearly stumbled as she stepped forward, fumbling for her wooden plaque with shaking hands. The guild master took it and pressed an ink seal into the surface.
"Go and wait outside. The guild will convene to discuss final acceptance."
She walked out on unsteady legs, her heart feeling lighter than it had in years. She had done it. After seven years of planning, of scraping together every coin, of working endless hours at the inn, she had finally proven herself worthy.
She didn't snap out of her daze until she heard people shuffling back into the room. The mages were back in their rows of seating. The candidates, fewer now than when they'd started, clustered together in the center.
"Membership into this guild requires the sponsorship of a full guild member," the guild master announced. "Now, the guild members may say who they wish to sponsor."
A man in fine robes rose from his seat. "I sponsor my son, Dario Montanari, for membership in this guild."
The selections continued. Then something unexpected happened. A middle-aged man with calloused hands and practical robes approached the center. "While I did not know him before today, I believe Mauro has potential worthy of investment."
The young man in question practically leaped with excitement. Yilan felt a stab of recognition. He, like her, was not born to the mages of the guild.
The selections dragged on. Her palms grew slick with sweat as she watched the pool of available candidates shrink.
Finally, the last guild member spoke. Yilan's heart hammered against her ribs as she counted the remaining candidates. There were still four of them who hadn't been chosen.
"This concludes this year's selection process," the guild master announced with detached formality.
She looked at the other three candidates who weren't chosen, seeing her own desperation reflected in their faces.
Before she could lose her nerve, she approached the guild master. "You called me first, after the trials," she said, her voice stronger than she felt. "My score was the highest."
The guild master barely glanced at her. "Scores do not determine acceptance, only eligibility. I have never seen you before today. Why should anyone sponsor you?"
The casual dismissal in his tone made her blood sing with anger. "Based on merit," she cried, louder than she'd intended.
The guild master's face hardened. Without another word, he turned and walked away.
Yilan stood there for a moment, watching his retreating figure. She turned to the other leftover candidates, drawn by voices. One of the rejected boys was talking to another boy who had been accepted.
"Did you know the man who sponsored you?" Yilan asked.
The accepted boy nodded eagerly. "We worked for him for a few years as errand boys. Master Thornfield. I'm sure he would have sponsored you too," he added to his friend, "but they can only sponsor one apprentice at a time. Guild rules."
"I guess I could come back in three years," the rejected boy said, but his voice carried no real hope.
Yilan's heart fell like a stone dropped down a well. She couldn't wait three years. Her sisters didn't deserve to wait another three years. Three years meant admitting that all the sacrifices—the missed meals, the patched clothes, the sleepless nights spent studying by candlelight—had been for nothing.
The great hall was nearly empty now. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear laughter and celebration as the chosen ones were welcomed into their new lives.
How could she tell her sisters the future she had painted in vivid detail would never come? How could she explain that their sacrifices, their belief in her, their patient waiting while she chased an impossible dream, had all been for nothing?
