The Oasis brimmed with the quiet hum of recovery. Each hopeful had found their own corner of the tranquil space to rest, though the atmosphere remained tinged with exhaustion. The trials had taken their toll, and the raw intensity of the battles still lingered in the air like a storm that had barely passed.


    Elias sat near the edge of the pool, lazily trailing his hand through the water. The flames that had danced so brilliantly during his battle were now reduced to faint embers that flickered intermittently around him. His usual cocky grin had softened, replaced by a contemplative expression that seemed almost out of place on his face. Kiran, sitting cross-legged nearby, absently molded a clump of sand between his fingers, shaping and reshaping it as if the motion brought him clarity.


    Elias broke the silence first. “So, how’d your trial go?” His voice carried its usual energy, though the edge of fatigue dulled it slightly. “I saw that sand trick of yours. Pretty neat, gotta admit.”


    Kiran snorted, not looking up from his hands. “Neat doesn’t win battles, though. That upperclassman, Calder? He ran circles around me. Literally. I barely kept up.”


    “Hey, at least you didn’t end up facing someone who decided to set the whole arena on fire,” Elias shot back, flashing a grin. “I think Syn was having a little too much fun out there.”


    Kiran finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Syn? You mean the top student?”


    Elias nodded, his grin widening. “Yup. A real firecracker, that one. Pun intended.” He paused, leaning back on his hands. “But man, her control? It’s insane. Makes me feel like I’m just fumbling around with matches compared to her.”


    “She’s leagues ahead of us for a reason,” Kiran replied, his tone even. “But hey, you’re still here. Must mean you did something right.”


    Elias chuckled, though his expression turned serious for a moment. “Yeah, maybe. But I think she was holding back. Like, really holding back. Makes you wonder what she’d be like at full power.”


    The conversation drifted as both boys fell into thoughtful silence, their minds replaying the moments from their respective trials.


    “Did you see that tree she summoned?” one of them gushed, her eyes sparkling. “It was beautiful! I’ve never seen magic like that before.”


    Another nodded enthusiastically. “And that spirit? It’s like something out of a storybook. What do you think it’s like to have a connection like that?”


    Aeryn’s cheeks flushed slightly at their words, though she kept her gaze fixed on the grass in front of her. Sylra’s light pulsed faintly, a quiet reassurance that seemed to anchor her.


    “Do you think she’ll talk to us?” one of the girls whispered, glancing nervously at Aeryn. “She looks kind of… intense.”


    “You’re probably scaring her,” another replied with a grin. “Why don’t you just ask?”


    Summoning her courage, one of the girls approached, her steps tentative but determined. “Hey,” she said softly, offering a small smile. “Your magic was amazing. That tree? It’s still all I can think about.”


    Aeryn blinked, startled by the direct approach. “Oh… thank you,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Sylra’s glow brightened slightly, as if encouraging her.


    “How do you do it?” the girl asked, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Is it the spirit—Sylra, right? Does she help you?”


    Aeryn hesitated, glancing at Sylra before replying. “It’s not just Sylra. It’s… us. Together. She’s always been there for me, even when I didn’t know what I was doing.”


    The girl’s expression softened. “That’s incredible. You’re really lucky to have that bond.”


    A faint smile tugged at Aeryn’s lips, though it was fleeting. “Yeah. I am.”


    Melis, who had been observing from a distance, noted his retreat with a faint frown. Her attention shifted, however, when another presence caught her eye.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The sound user stood near one of the fruit trees, his posture relaxed but his movements deliberate. His eyes scanned the area, lingering on details that others overlooked—the faint glow of magic in the air, the slight shifts in the environment. His gaze briefly met Melis’s, and for a fleeting moment, she felt an unease she couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t threatening, but there was a weight to his stare, as if he were seeing something beyond the surface.


    Melis shook off the feeling and returned her focus to the group. Each of them carried their own burdens, their own stories, but they were here together for a reason. For now, she would let them rest. Whatever came next, they would face it soon enough.


    Kaelen’s steps slowed as he noticed the a peculiar boy performing a strange action by the wall. The boy ran his fingers along the stone, pausing occasionally as if listening to something Kaelen couldn’t hear. Curiosity piqued, Kaelen approached, his brow furrowing. “What are you doing?”


    The boy didn’t respond immediately, his head tilting slightly as he traced another line along the wall. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost a murmur. “Listening.”


    Kaelen’s confusion deepened. “Listening? To what?”


    The boy straightened, his gaze flicking to Kaelen. There was something unsettling about his eyes—sharp, calculating, as if he were dissecting everything around him. “The walls,” he said simply. “Something''s...wrong."


    "Wrong?” Kaelen repeated, glancing at the wall. To him, it looked like any other stone surface. “What do you mean?”


    The boy didn’t answer immediately, instead placing his palm flat against the stone. A faint hum of magic resonated from the contact, barely perceptible but enough to make Kaelen’s skin prickle. “This place,” the boy said finally, his tone matter-of-fact. “I don''t think that Melis over there told us everything.”


    Kaelen’s unease grew, but before he could press further, the boy stepped back, his hand falling to his side. “You’ll see soon enough i guess,” he said cryptically, his gaze lingering on the wall for a moment longer before turning back to the group.


    As the boy walked away, Kaelen remained rooted to the spot, his mind racing. Something about the boy’s words, his demeanor, didn’t sit right with him. Glancing back at the others, he wondered if they felt it too—that faint, unshakable sense that something wasn’t quite right.


    Time passed slowly, the group of hopefuls gradually regaining their strength. Conversations ebbed and flowed, some lively and others hushed. Yet, as the minutes dragged on, a quiet unease began to settle over them. The usual rhythms of the Oasis felt off—too still, too stagnant. Even the ever-present hum of magic seemed muted.


    Elias, now pacing near the pool, shot a glance at the others. “Alright, so… what’s the deal?” he asked, his voice breaking the relative silence. “Aren’t we supposed to be moving on or something?”


    Kiran shrugged, though his own unease was evident in the way he fidgeted with the sand in his palm. “Maybe they’re giving us extra time to recover?”


    “This doesn’t feel right,” Aeryn said softly, her gaze fixed on the ground. Sylra hovered close to her shoulder, the spirit’s glow dimmed but steady.


    The tension grew, whispers spreading through the group like wildfire. Several hopefuls began to drift toward Melis, the only figure who seemed remotely authoritative. She stood near the edge of the pool, her back to the group as she adjusted a shelf of vials.


    “Do you think she knows what’s going on?” one of the hopefuls murmured.


    Another nodded. “She’s the nurse, right? Maybe she’s waiting for instructions?”


    Encouraged by the murmurs, a small cluster of students approached Melis, their steps hesitant but purposeful. One of them cleared their throat. “Uh, excuse me? Do you know when we’re supposed to…”


    Before they could finish, Melis turned, her expression bright and cheerful. “Oh, I’m so glad to see you all up and about!” she said warmly, her tone identical to the one she’d used earlier. “How are you feeling? Any lingering aches or pains?”


    The hopefuls exchanged uncertain glances, their unease deepening. One of them hesitated before replying. “We… we’re fine, I think. But, um, do you know what’s happening next?”


    Melis tilted her head, her smile unwavering. “Next? Oh, don’t you worry about that. Just focus on resting for now.”


    It was as if she hadn’t heard them at all. As she continued to ask superficial questions about their health, the group’s unease reached a boiling point. Something was definitely wrong. The nurse’s demeanor was too perfect, too rehearsed, and her words carried an eerie familiarity—as if she were repeating a script.


    Elias’s pacing stopped, his jaw tightening. He exchanged a look with Kiran, who nodded grimly. Aeryn’s grip on Sylra’s glow brightened faintly, as if the spirit shared her mounting apprehension.


    "Melis turned to the group with the same practiced cheerfulness, her expression and tone eerily identical to how she had greeted them earlier. "Feel free to explore The Oasis," she exclaimed, her voice carrying a rehearsed enthusiasm that did little to ease the mounting unease. "The fruits are enchanted to restore your energy, and the pool carries a gentle healing magic. When you’re ready, we’ll reconvene to prepare for what comes next."


    The repetition hit the hopefuls like a physical blow. Her words, her smile, even the cadence of her tone—it was all too perfect, too familiar, as if she were stuck in an endless loop. Unease gripped the group, each of them glancing at one another, searching for answers in the faces of their peers. The oppressive stillness of the space grew heavier, the realization dawning collectively: the trial had never truly been on pause.