Judge stared at the gold-and-crimson box his mother held out like a prize, both hands holding it as if it were the crown jewels. He knew the drill— he'd seen the same box in Amber's and Liam's hands, though theirs were different colors.
Amber's was peach with gold (a combo he tried not to gag at), and Liam's was a vibrant orange with the same ever-present gold.
Now, his box had crimson mixed in, because clearly, his mother had a bit of a thing for gold. The woman couldn't resist the stuff— her room looked like she decorated her room after her trip to a black Friday sale at a pawn shop and bought the store, and the surrounding hallways were no better.
His gaze flickered from the box to his mother's ashen white eyes, then to Melina's equally intense gaze, and back to the box. With a sigh of resignation, he mentally commanded it to open.
Crimson swirled with gold, twisting across the surface like a fancy dessert, as the lock gave a slow, dramatic creak, revealing its contents. The gap widened, and inside was an extremely dark wand resting on an only slightly lighter cushion, both exuding an aura of "I'm definitely cursed."
Judge feigned enthusiasm, his forced excitement looking pretty natural— he'd had years of practice. With a flick of his will, the wand floated out of the box and zipped toward him like an eager puppy.
He caught it with practiced ease, and as soon as his fingers closed around it, he felt a chill so cold it could've rivaled winter's breath. The wand had no traditional handle, just a small jewel attached where one should've been, swirling in dark purples and blacks like a bad omen.
He lifted it, noting the lightning-like bend in the wand's shape. Checking the purple jewel for ether reserves, he found just enough ether to power a desk fan— barely.
But something was off, and it wasn't just the color scheme. His mother and Melina both had expressions of barely contained glee, like they knew a secret he was about to stumble upon. He had known both since birth, and he knew both of them never up to anything good with a smile like that.
Sure, the jewel was a catalyst, but it was too tiny for something his mother had crafted. He hadn't seen Amber or Liam's wands, but this thing felt more like a toy than a weapon. Yet, despite its size, he could sense the jewel could hold a surprising amount of ether. Then it hit him— the wand itself was a catalyst.
Now that was unexpected. Judge's surprise was genuine this time, no need to fake it. He barely managed to hold together his neutral facial expressions.
Catalysts, no matter their form, always had a crystal texture to them. But this? It was wood, top to bottom. How in the Etherverse could this be a catalyst?
"Surprised?" His mother's eyes sparkled with the excitement of a master crafter waiting for praise. She was never the one to look for praise, but it was different when it was her child who was praising her.
"Yep," Judge nodded, turning to hug her tightly, because what else do you do when your mom gifts you a potential murder weapon disguised as a wand? "Thanks, Mom! Really."
He had to show some appreciation; after all, this was more artifact than a mere wand. Rechargeable catalysts weren't cheap— anywhere from ten stens to five hundred, depending on the quality of ether conductivity and holding capacity.
But those numbers were peanuts compared to the dragon-made ones, which his mother specialized in. And this one? It had her signature all over it. The purple jewel might've been small, but with the runes his mother had etched into it, it was packing far more power than met the eye.
Then there was the wand itself. He couldn't even sense a limit to its ether capacity. He knew it wasn't infinite, but it was massive, and creating something from scratch took talent— and maybe a little madness. Making a whole wand out of a catalyst was a risky business; one slip, and the wielder could end up as a pile of ash.
Testing it out, Judge aimed the wand at a candle on the desk. "Ignite," he muttered, expecting a simple flame. After all, "Ignite" was about as harmless as spells got.
But the wand, apparently feeling overzealous, channeled ether like it was born for drama. What was supposed to be a tiny flame turned into a table-consuming inferno. The entire desk went up like a bonfire, shocking everyone except his mother, Melina, and Judge himself.
A familiar gasp interrupted his moment of disbelief. "Wait— who's there?" He turned to see Amber standing in the doorway, she was looking very confused and amused.
Judge sighed. "This is a classroom, Amber." Great, just what he needed— his sister barging in. She was probably here to say her farewells before she left.
'Wonderful timing,' he thought sarcastically.
Amber was supposed to have left for Wyvern's Land weeks ago— a grand town named Trodh where dragons prepped before entering the academy. Population: eight hundred thousand. Wyverns in attendance? Zero. Turns out, wyverns didn't exist. They were just dragons incognito.
Amber had delayed her departure till after Judge's birthday— a party even their father skipped with the classic excuse, "Very busy." Judge knew what that meant. His father was avoiding people, it was not social anxiety, but carelessness, and their grandfather had nearly gone full draconic fury over it.
Amber bounded over and gave Judge a big, heartfelt hug. He, of course, stood there like a statue, waiting for it to end. Once free, he gave her a lazy thumbs-up. "Good luck out there."
"That didn't sound like someone wishing me luck... And what's that smell— oh, the table's on fire."
Judge had forgotten about that. His mother and Melina hadn't lifted a finger to stop the blaze because clearly, he was supposed to clean up his own mess.
He sighed, raised his brand-new wand, and this time channeled his ether with the kind of restraint normally reserved for delicate negotiations.