Raymond cleared his throat, still smiling energetically at the entire room. He always had a way with words, of manipulating and arranging them in ways that made a person seen and understood.

"However, today isn't quite the first class. Before we start your journey in the Academy, we must test for your magic aptitude."

Whispers fell along the rows, students gossiping with each other.

"Magic, as you may all be aware, is something prevalent in our everyday lives. Contracts that can bind us, in the way the famed adventurers battle, and more. However, where does magic come from? Who created the contracts, and what powers do the adventurers have? How can we define the root of the normal obscurity riddled in our daily lives?"

"This is something the Academy shares with you, students, those blessed by the Watchers. They are unique creatures that we can't even fathom or comprehend, beings that judge the living and determines ones' value." The chalkboard scraped as he jotted notes with a beam.  "Not every person is blessed with power, but you all have the highest possibility of being chosen by a Watcher."

"This is one of the qualifications to enter the Academy."

Another series of whispers seeped through the rows before the Professor raised a finger to his lips. 

"Often, there is such a variety that we cannot put a number to how many exist, although it is common for a Watcher to bless two separate people. In the Academy, we have divided it into four categories—spectator, astral, psychological, and physical."

"Your combat class, as you may expect, will be dependent on the ability you receive. The Academy exists to help you develop your abilities."

A well-dressed man in the front raised his hand. "Professor, is the ability destined at birth or blessed when we are tested?"

"A curious question," smiled Raymond. "We aren't certain when exactly the Watchers have chosen you as the one they want to witness; however, there is a reason that one enters the Academy at the age of eighteen. It is only at that age that they seem to be willing to be revealed, to usher you forth from their careful protection."

"Before then, it is possible that they have been quietly guarding you, from the very beginning."

Raymond then put on a solemn expression, his voice seeming to erupt across the room, hammering into everybody's mind. "Be warned. The more one uses their ability, the higher the chance of Reversal."

"Reversal?" Somebody wondered.

"The backlash of using an ability. For example, a person who sees the future may forget the past. A person who manipulates time may end up stuck in a cycle of time."

"How do we determine which one has blessed us?"

"That's where I come in, you see. I have been blessed by the Story-teller, the Watcher of Stories. I have been granted the permission to speak and read the stories of the spirits—I can see which one has chosen you, we need only call them out from hiding."

The professor bent down under his podium, placing a bowl of dark liquid on the table. It was calm and smooth despite the darkness that dyed it, remaining still.

"Selena Ackers, please step up."

The gossiping woman from earlier flinched and nodded, slowly making her way to the front.

"Please place your hand in the bowl, whichever you prefer."

She glanced around before obediently following his instruction. Her delicate fingers dipped hesitantly, still absorbing the knowledge of 'Watchers' and the possibility of magic running in her blood. 

The water seemed to tremble before fleeing from the bowl, turning and glittering. Then, the black dispersed, and all that was left were clear water droplets hanging high in the ceiling.

They rained down on everybody, seeming to leave a blessing on every surface they touched.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Raymond, grinning broadly as he nodded. "Selena Ackers, you have been chosen by the Watcher of Pure Rain."

The process continued like that for a while, and Kaden watched every person eagerly. In fact, he wasn't able to witness it the first time.

Reed had said something as important as this was something Kaden, a commoner, didn't deserve to see. That there would be no Watchers willing to bless a killer, a dog loyal to their master.

But this was fascinating. The way the water was manipulated depended on each person's blessing, how unique all of them were, even when some were similar or the same.

He listened to the in-between explanations, spoken calmly so that it didn't feel overwhelming.

The four categories were spectator, astral, psychological, and physical.

The first were those that didn't necessarily provide a power that could be used in battle, but a power used to aid and contribute from the side, hence a spectator.

The professor's ability to read the story of spirits and determine each student's Watcher was such an ability.

The second, astral, were those who broke boundaries and fell into a more supernatural state, making it also more dangerous. Selena's high ability to purify could be under this category.

The third, psychological, was that which probed the human mind, manipulating and controlling the subconscious.

Then the last were those that directly enhanced the physique, or gave combat abilities that could directly attack.

"Noah Bellamy," Raymond called, intrigue glistening in his eyes as if he knew that something entirely chaotic was about to occur. "Please step up."

The seat screeched harshly as the man stood, and strolled down the stairs and past the rows of people with a captivating air that made one unable to look away. The aura of the dragons that ran in his blood spilled with every indifferent stride. His presence engulfed the entire room.

Noah submerged his hand in the water without instruction.

And waited.

Nothing happened, and the room was silent.

"Noah Bellamy," called Raymond. "Please step—"

The professor faltered, swerving his shocked gaze to Noah, who was already at the front of the room, hand soaked in dark water. The dragon quietly lifted his chilling stare, time twisting in his gaze.

Then, something screamed. The wind began to blow and whistle, storming through the room. The floors were creaking as if they'd aged, and space was warped and twisted.

The world was crying.

Panic roused through the class, spreading like wildfire as somebody ran for the door in fear, only to appear on the other side of the classroom, now confused and uncertain.

Water flecks spilled into the air, frozen and stopped.

Kaden's entire body felt as if it were burning, memories rushing in a disordered frenzy.

And Noah's stupid, watching gaze didn't move.

Then, when the chaos had become too much, the man slowly removed his hand from the water. He coldly observed as everything returned o normal. Not even a pen out of place.

Noah returned to his seat, leaving the professor with his mouth gaping in utter surprise, completely mesmerized and dazed.

He seemed to be shaken, straightening his collar as he blinked rapidly.

"Noah Bellamy," whispered Raymond with a gasp. "You have been blessed by the Watcher of Time. Incredible, absolutely fantastic."

"Even among the Watchers, there are some that have left a mark in history too permanent to ever be forgotten," explained the professor, a hitch in his voice as his excitement continued.

"That goes to say, all Watchers are unique and memorable, blessing every one of you with an outstanding ability. The Watcher of Time is one who had been recorded only once before—by the saviour of humanity during the Great War. A mysterious figure that went unknown by his name, but famous for his identity."

Then, he added, "Noah, please see me after class! I have such a lovely story to tell you, if you are interested, of course."

The dragon nodded curtly.

Raymond cleared his throat, pleased before he straightened the bowl and announced the next name.

A few more after that had rather grand spectacles, with a man by the name of William collecting all the light in the room into his hands and into the water, before dispersing it again. It seemed as if the sun had been stolen, temporarily.

Kaden was actually a bit worried now—it was going by the alphabetical order of last names, and his had yet to be called.

Was it true that he wouldn't be allowed to try for the common blood that ran in his veins?

It would be a little disappointing, but not the end of the world. However, the professor had stated that it was one of the requirements to be accepted into the Academy... why hadn't he been given the opportunity in his last life?

But as he thought that, Raymond lifted his head to look straight at him with careful, scrutinizing eyes.

Ones that did not judge, only observe.

"Kaden Alluin Chauvet."

"Please step up."