While Leo searched for a way to awaken his powers, guards patrolled the train corridors, checking for any new students who had already stirred. Those with the strongest constitutions always woke up first, but it had only been half a day of travel. They didn't expect to find anyone yet.
"Sir, we have one active room. 12a, a boy named Leo. No family name recorded," the patrol guard reported to his commander at the front of the train.
"What's his class? Have we seen him activate any skills?" the General asked, his voice sharp.
"Nothing yet, sir. He appears to have a nonstandard Class marking—three claw marks," the guard replied.
The General gestured for his aides to search their records for details on the class. Minutes passed, but they came back with nothing. There were similar markings on file, but none that matched exactly.
"Well then," the General sighed. "He'll have to awaken on his own. I hope the boy has good luck or thick skin. He's going to need it if he turns in a blank sheet for his first assignment at the Academy."
It wasn't unheard of for a student to receive a mark but fail to awaken their powers immediately, even when following the instructions. Some received a nonstandard starting skill; others were simply inept at wielding the power they had been given.
The General even recalled one case where a boy had awakened as a Mage but lacked enough mana to cast a single spell until nearly the end of the first semester. That student had proven to be a dismal failure, eventually running away during a school outing to live as a commoner, never advancing beyond the most basic level of his training.
That was the fate of many students who never learned to unlock their skills. They were either completely unsuited to the abilities they'd received or, like the boy with three claw marks in room 12a, they had a marking for which no guidance could be given.
The Prodigy Serum was a modern invention, born from an astonishing archaeological find. Deep beneath an ancient Old World Cathedral, researchers had unearthed the Oracle Cores, a divine device whose inner workings had been detailed in recovered texts.
The device itself was broken, but an unidentifiable power lingered within it. Using the stones as a guide, scientists spent decades developing the Serum, a breakthrough that could attune humans to that power. It was the Sterling Republic's chance to overtake the military might of its neighbours and change the fate of its citizens.
What did it matter now if the Maritime Union had water magic to guard their ships from the rockets and cannons of the Crimson Drake Fleet? Now, they had mages of their own. If the untamed monsters of the Wildlands attacked, they had warriors and guardians whose skills could cut down the most ferocious magical creatures with ease.
That was the strategic value of the Prodigy Serum. It was why every student found to be compatible was taken in by the military and intensively trained, drilled in the duties and responsibilities that came with being a protector of the nation.
Life wasn't all military training and duty, however. If it were, the nation's freshly empowered guardians would certainly rebel, turning traitor or staging a coup. So, they were treated as the legendary resources they were, allowed to live in luxury for their entire lives—on the condition that their power was enough to justify their keep.
Once they passed the trials that the Sterling Elite Academy placed before them, they would even receive official titles from the church, along with a host of legal and social benefits to match. Society had always belonged to the rich and powerful, but now that phrase had taken on an entirely new meaning.
Leo was blissfully unaware of the conversation he had inspired. While his observers were discussing the likelihood of him failing to awaken his powers in time, Leo was preparing to ask one of the passing guards for advice.
"Sir? Pardon me," he said as a uniformed guard passed his door again. "My skill marking doesn't seem to be in the book. Could I be missing a page?"
"Not in the book, eh? Tough luck there, son," the guard said, pausing. "The book only covers the common markings, the ones ninety percent of new students get. The injections are a mysterious divine force; sometimes they produce results nobody understands."
He leaned in a little closer. "The best I can tell you is to try everything. Whatever feels right, probably is. If you're lucky, you'll awaken something before your classes start."
The guard glanced down the hall before continuing in a lower voice. "Between you and me, you want to awaken those powers before you get to the Academy. The elite students are particular about power rankings. If you don't have anything to show, you'll be starting from the very bottom."
"Thanks. What about your marking? Can I see it?" Leo asked curiously.
The guard rolled up his sleeve to reveal the image of a bear paw, the mark of a Druid—a nature magic user with an affinity for animals, according to the guide.
"Since yours seems animal-related, like mine, maybe try things connected to animals or even unarmed combat. There isn't much you can do to attune with nature on a speeding train, but the windows open a crack if you need some fresh air."
The guard offered a rare, thin smile. "That's what I had to do. I couldn't awaken my powers without some connection to nature. In fact, they didn't manifest on the train at all. They woke up the moment I touched the trees on the path to the Academy gates."
"Thanks for the help," Leo called as the guard nodded and continued on his way. The man didn't seem keen on conversation, or perhaps he just didn't want to get Leo's hopes up. But his advice had given him somewhere to start.