The girl knelt by a cluster of vines, carefully plucking ripe berries and dropping them into her pack. The spirit floated beside her, its glow casting a soft, comforting light over the overgrowth. She worked in silence for a time, her hands moving with practiced ease.
As she stood, slinging the pack over her shoulder, her gaze wandered to the horizon. The ruins stretched endlessly in every direction, their jagged edges silhouetted against the fading light. Her shoulders sagged slightly, and for a moment, she just stood there, staring at the emptiness around her.
Her voice broke the stillness, quiet and trembling. ¡°You¡¯re the only thing that makes this place feel less lonely,¡± she said, her words heavy with emotion. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do if you weren¡¯t here.¡±
The spirit¡¯s light pulsed gently in response, and she reached out, brushing her fingers against its glow as though grounding herself in its presence.
The final memory came into focus, sharper and more vivid than the others.
The girl sat cross-legged on the floor of a small, overgrown room, the faint glow of the spirit illuminating the space. A handful of berries lay between them, the only meal they had managed to scavenge that day.
She reached out, plucking one of the berries and holding it up to the light. ¡°You need a name,¡± she said suddenly, her voice thoughtful.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.
The spirit pulsed in response, its light flickering softly as though encouraging her to continue.
The girl tilted her head, studying the glowing form. ¡°Something¡ gentle. Warm. Like you.¡±
She fell silent, her brow furrowing in concentration. Her gaze drifted to the vines that covered the walls, their twisting shapes reminding her of the way the spirit moved.
¡°Sylra,¡± she said at last, the word rolling off her tongue like a quiet melody.
The spirit¡¯s light brightened, its glow filling the room with a radiant warmth. The girl laughed softly, reaching out to brush her fingers against the glowing form.
¡°Yeah,¡± she said, her voice steady now. ¡°Sylra. That¡¯s your name.¡±
The light pulsed again, and in that moment, the bond between them felt unbreakable.
The girl sank to her knees, her hands trembling as the light enveloped her. Tears welled in her eyes, though she didn¡¯t understand why.
¡°I remember,¡± she whispered, her voice shaking. ¡°I remember you.¡±
Sylra¡¯s light pulsed warmly in response, and for the first time in so long, the ache in the girl¡¯s chest began to fade.
And then, softly, Sylra spoke¡ªher voice a gentle whisper in the girl¡¯s mind.
¡°Aeryn,¡± the spirit whispered, its voice resonating with warmth and certainty.
The girl froze, her breath catching as the name reverberated through space. A glow enveloping her flared brighter, and the world around them began to blur and shift once more.
The scene reformed, but this time it wasn¡¯t from the girl¡¯s perspective. It was the perspective of something small, weightless¡ªa faint flicker of light barely more than a spark.
The tiny spirit drifted aimlessly through the ruins, drawn to the faint hum of life amid the crumbling city. It floated behind a human girl, watching her climb and scavenge, her movements deliberate and careful. At first, the spirit didn¡¯t understand why it stayed near her, only that something about her felt¡ safe.
Days turned into weeks. The spirit trailed behind the girl like a shadow, keeping its distance but always present. It observed her routine, her quiet murmurs to herself, the rare moments when she would pause and stare at the horizon as though searching for something she¡¯d long since lost.
And then, one day, she noticed it.
The girl had crouched to tie a makeshift strap on her pack when her eyes lifted, meeting the faint glow hovering in the shadows. She froze, her breath hitching. The spirit hesitated, unsure whether to flee or stay, but something in her gaze held it in place.
¡°Are you¡¡± she whispered, her voice soft and trembling. ¡°Are you following me?¡±
The spirit drifted closer, emboldened by the absence of fear in her voice. It pulsed faintly, a quiet acknowledgment, and the girl¡¯s lips twitched into the barest hint of a smile.
From that day on, the spirit became more than an observer. It hovered closer, occasionally flickering brighter to guide her steps or illuminate the darkest corners of her scavenging routes. The girl began to speak to it, at first hesitantly, then with a growing sense of companionship.
¡°You should have a name,¡± she said one evening, sitting cross-legged on the floor of an overgrown room. The spirit hovered in front of her, its glow casting soft shadows across the cracked walls.
The spirit pulsed, its flicker more vibrant than usual.
The girl tilted her head, considering. ¡°Something soft¡ warm, like you.¡±
¡°Sylra,¡± she said at last, the word almost a whisper.
Soon after the name left her lips, the spirit began to change. Its glow intensified, swirling with newfound energy, and its form began to shift. Slowly, it took on a child-like shape¡ªsmall and glowing, with faint features that mirrored the girl¡¯s own.
The girl gasped, her eyes widening. ¡°Sylra?¡±
¡°Yes,¡± the spirit replied, its voice soft and tentative, but undeniably clear.
Time passed, and Sylra grew alongside the girl. Together, they navigated the ruins, their bond deepening with every shared moment. Sylra¡¯s form became more defined, her child-like appearance gaining clarity as she learned to speak, to understand, to share the girl¡¯s burdens.
But their peace wasn¡¯t destined to last.
One day, the girl stood at the edge of the ruins, her gaze fixed on the faint shapes moving in the distance¡ªpeople. Real, living people. Her breath hitched as her chest tightened, a swirl of anticipation and fear rising within her. How long had it been since she¡¯d seen another face? Another voice that wasn¡¯t her own?
Her fingers gripped the strap of her pack tightly, knuckles whitening. The question that gnawed at her was simple, yet devastating. What would they think of me?
Her mind raced, grasping for words she might say, for reasons she might give for her solitude. Her throat felt dry, and her heart pounded louder than it had any right to.
¡°Do you think they¡¯d ask my name?¡± she murmured aloud, her voice barely audible over the breeze. The question hung in the air, unanswered.
Sylra hovered closer, her glow dimming slightly as if to match the girl¡¯s uncertainty. For a long moment, the spirit remained silent, her light shifting in rhythm with the unsteady breaths of her companion. Then, as if reaching a decision, she moved forward, the edges of her form brushing gently against the girl¡¯s trembling hand.
¡°You¡¯ve been everything to me,¡± Sylra began softly, her voice a mixture of light and warmth. ¡°You¡¯ve been my strength, my guide, my home. It doesn¡¯t matter what they call you¡ªwhat matters is who you are. And I know who you are.¡±
The girl blinked, her breath catching at the conviction in Sylra¡¯s voice.
¡°You are Aeryn,¡± Sylra said, her light flaring briefly. ¡°It¡¯s what I¡¯ve called you in my heart for as long as I¡¯ve known you. Aeryn. The one who keeps going, no matter what. The one who refuses to let go. It¡¯s a name that belongs to you, because you¡¯ve earned it.¡±
The girl froze, the weight of the name settling over her like a gentle embrace. She glanced down at her hands, dirty and calloused, but steady as they gripped the pack. Slowly, she let out a shaky breath, the tension in her body loosening as if the name itself had anchored her.
¡°Aeryn,¡± she repeated, her voice tentative but steady.
Sylra¡¯s light pulsed brightly, her form radiating a warmth that reached into the girl¡¯s very core. ¡°Yes,¡± the spirit said simply.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, Aeryn smiled. It wasn¡¯t a big smile, or even a confident one, but it was genuine, and in that moment, it was enough.
From his vantage point, Caelus observed the scene with a broad smile, his eyes alight with approval. ¡°Well done,¡± he murmured, the words meant only for himself. He watched as Aeryn and Sylra stood together, their movements purposeful and unyielding as they turned to face the entity that loomed before them. The bond between them was palpable, and it filled Caelus with a quiet sense of satisfaction.
He prepared to end the trial, his hand lifting slightly as the glow of the clearing began to waver in anticipation. But then, the creature moved.
Its deep, resonant voice cut through the air like a blade. ¡°You don¡¯t belong here.¡±
Caelus froze, his hand pausing mid-gesture. His brows furrowed as he realized the creature¡¯s words were not directed at Aeryn or Sylra. Its gaze tilted upward, as if piercing through the very fabric of the trial.
¡°To me?¡± Caelus whispered to himself, incredulous.
Before he could react further, the creature surged. From its form, an overwhelming torrent of vines exploded outward, writhing and twisting with alarming speed. They stretched impossibly far, engulfing the city and lashing toward the sky¡ªtoward him.
Caelus stepped back instinctively, his mind racing. The trial space trembled under the weight of the entity¡¯s attack, its magic destabilizing as the vines tore through the air with the force of a hurricane. Casting a quick glance down, he spotted Aeryn and Sylra surrounded by a glowing protective barrier.
Sylra, he realized immediately, her quick action keeping them safe even as chaos erupted around them. Despite the cacophony, Aeryn stood firm, her expression resolute as she gazed at the entity. Her trust in Sylra was absolute.
¡°She doesn¡¯t even flinch,¡± Caelus muttered, his tone tinged with admiration. ¡°Not bad.¡±
But the situation was far from over. The vines continued their relentless ascent, their barbed tendrils tearing through the trial space. Caelus reached out, his magic rippling outward to intercept them, but the sheer force of the attack made it clear: this wasn¡¯t just an entity defending itself. It was a creature with a will strong enough to defy the observer¡¯s presence.
The air around Aeryn grew heavy as she felt something stir deep within her. A searing pain lanced through her arm, and she looked down in shock to see vines bursting from her skin, wrapping themselves around her arm as though seeking to claim her.
Sylra¡¯s light flared brighter, the protective shield shimmering around them as the spirit turned to Aeryn, her voice firm yet calm. ¡°Hold on. I¡¯m here.¡±
Aeryn bit back a cry of pain, her hand trembling as she reached out toward Sylra. The vines tightened, pulling her arm downward, but the warmth of Sylra¡¯s light anchored her.
¡°You don¡¯t have to fight this alone,¡± Sylra said, her glow intensifying.
The observer¡¯s voice cut through the chaos. It was calm, measured, but carried an unmistakable edge of command. ¡°Aeryn, listen to me. Do not let go of her.¡±
Aeryn¡¯s gaze snapped upward, her breath hitching as she heard the voice that had guided her through the trial. The pain in her arm felt distant now, drowned out by the strength she drew from Sylra¡¯s presence.
¡°I won¡¯t,¡± Aeryn said, her voice steady despite the chaos. Her hand gripped Sylra¡¯s light as the vines around her arm began to writhe, their grip faltering under the combined force of their bond.
Above, Caelus stood firm, his own magic surging outward to counter the vines¡¯ relentless attack. A faint smile played on his lips, though his eyes burned with focus.
¡°Let¡¯s see how far this creature¡¯s reach truly goes,¡± he murmured, his hand lifting to form a shimmering barrier that clashed with the vines in a burst of light.
Below, Aeryn felt the vines around her arm disintegrate, their grip dissolving into nothingness as Sylra¡¯s light enveloped her fully. Together, they turned their attention back to the entity, their combined presence a beacon against the darkness.
The creature paused, its massive form shifting as it slowly withdrew its tendrils from the air. For the first time, it turned its attention fully upward, its voice rumbling with a low, ominous growl.
¡°You don¡¯t belong here.¡±
The words reverberated through the trial space, and Caelus¡¯s expression hardened. He lowered his hand, the shimmering barrier holding firm as the creature seemed to focus solely on him.
¡°Interesting,¡± Caelus muttered under his breath, his gaze sharp as he observed the entity. ¡°It knows I¡¯m here.¡±
The trial space trembled violently, and Caelus knew the moment had come to intervene. With a final glance at Aeryn and Sylra¡ªboth standing unbowed despite the chaos¡ªhe nodded to himself, his decision clear.
In a single, decisive motion, he raised his hand and brought the trial to an abrupt end. The clearing dissolved into light, leaving behind only the echo of the entity¡¯s voice and the faint hum of magic fading into silence.
Aeryn and Sylra were enveloped in a sea of radiant light, its brilliance forcing them to shut their eyes. For a moment, everything was still¡ªsilent, as if the world itself had paused to catch its breath.
When the light receded, Aeryn blinked her eyes open, her vision adjusting to the dimmer surroundings. The air was calm, the tension of the trial entirely gone. She turned her head slowly, her gaze landing on something achingly familiar.
A kitchenette, its counters cluttered but tidy in their disarray. Opposite it, a massive window bathed the room in the soft glow of sunlight filtering through enchanted panes.
She froze, realization dawning on her.
¡°This is¡¡± she murmured, her voice trailing off.
Her eyes swept the room, confirming her suspicions. She was back in Caelus¡¯s office¡ªthe same office where she¡¯d first encountered the peculiar man. The air here felt different, though, calmer, as though it had been waiting for her to return.
¡°Ah, good. You¡¯re awake.¡±
Aeryn turned sharply at the sound of his voice. Caelus sat comfortably behind his cluttered desk, his chair leaned slightly back, one hand holding a steaming cup of coffee while the other shuffled through a pile of papers. His expression was casual, but his eyes carried the weight of someone who had just witnessed something extraordinary.
For a moment, he said nothing more, letting her adjust to the sudden change. Then, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk, he gave her a small smile.
¡°Take a seat,¡± he said, his voice warm but measured. ¡°Let¡¯s chat for a bit.¡±
Sylra¡¯s light pulsed faintly beside her, and Aeryn felt a wave of reassurance wash over her. Glancing at her companion, she gave a small nod before stepping forward and lowering herself into the chair.
The spirit hovered nearby, her presence a quiet but steady reminder of the bond they had just reaffirmed.
Sylra¡¯s light pulsed faintly beside her, and Aeryn felt a wave of reassurance wash over her. Glancing at her companion, she gave a small nod before stepping forward and lowering herself into the chair.
The spirit hovered nearby, her presence a quiet but steady reminder of the bond they had just reaffirmed.
Aeryn¡¯s gaze flicked to Caelus, her body still tense as her mind raced to make sense of everything. ¡°What¡ what just happened?¡±
Caelus leaned forward, setting his coffee cup down with a deliberate motion. Resting his elbows on the desk, he laced his fingers together and met her gaze directly.
¡°That,¡± he said with a faint smile, ¡°was your trial. And I must say, you handled it¡ admirably.¡±
Aeryn¡¯s brow furrowed, her fists clenching slightly in her lap. ¡°It didn¡¯t feel like something I was supposed to handle. That creature¡ª¡±
Caelus raised a hand, stopping her mid-sentence. ¡°All in good time,¡± he said. ¡°For now, let¡¯s focus on you. What did you learn?¡±
His tone was light, almost conversational, but Aeryn didn¡¯t miss the sharp edge of curiosity in his eyes.
She glanced at Sylra, the warmth of her spirit¡¯s light calming the storm inside her. Taking a breath, she said, ¡°I learned that¡ I¡¯m not alone. That no matter how much I think I have to carry everything on my own, there¡¯s someone who¡¯s always been there.¡± Her voice softened. ¡°Sylra was always there.¡±
Sylra pulsed brightly at the mention of her name, and Caelus¡¯s gaze briefly shifted to the spirit.
¡°An unshakable bond,¡± he mused, his expression unreadable. ¡°It¡¯s rare, you know. Connections like yours don¡¯t happen by chance.¡±
Aeryn frowned, leaning forward slightly. ¡°Then why test it? Why put us through all of this?¡±
Caelus chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. ¡°Ah, the ever-burning question: why. I could give you the lofty answer, the one about growth and understanding and finding strength within yourself. But the truth is simpler.¡±
He paused, his smile fading slightly. ¡°You needed to see it. To feel it. To know, without a shadow of a doubt, what you mean to each other. Trials aren¡¯t about passing or failing¡ªthey¡¯re about clarity. And I think you¡¯ve found yours.¡±
Aeryn sat back, her mind replaying the events of the trial. The creature, the bond she and Sylra had shared, the name she had rediscovered. It all felt like pieces of a puzzle she was only beginning to understand.
Before she could respond, Caelus¡¯s voice cut through her thoughts, lighter this time.
¡°But enough seriousness for now,¡± he said, gesturing toward the steaming cup of coffee on his desk. ¡°Would you like something to drink? Tea, perhaps? Or are you more of a ¡®just give me a moment to breathe¡¯ type?¡±
The unexpected question caught Aeryn off guard, and for the first time in what felt like ages, she let out a small, genuine laugh.
Chapter 18: A Brief Chat
Aeryn¡¯s laugh faded into a soft smile as she shook her head. ¡°I think I¡¯ll take the moment to breathe,¡± she said, her voice lighter than before.
Caelus chuckled, leaning back in his chair. ¡°Fair enough." He took a slow sip of his coffee, his sharp gaze never quite leaving her face. ¡°You handled yourself well, Aeryn. It¡¯s no small feat to come through something like that with your bond not just intact, but strengthened.¡±
She glanced at Sylra, who hovered at her side, her light a comforting presence. ¡°I don¡¯t think I could¡¯ve done it without her,¡± Aeryn admitted, her tone soft.
Sylra pulsed warmly in response, and Caelus nodded, his expression softening slightly. ¡°That¡¯s the nature of a true bond. It¡¯s not just about strength¡ªit¡¯s about trust, understanding, and the ability to support one another even in the darkest moments.¡±
Aeryn shifted in her seat, the weight of his words settling over her. ¡°That creature,¡± she began hesitantly. ¡°It said something. ¡®You don¡¯t belong here.¡¯ Do you think it¡ meant me?¡±
Caelus¡¯s brow furrowed slightly, and he set his cup down with care. ¡°No,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°That was not for you.¡±
His answer was simple, but the weight behind it was enough to silence any follow-up questions she might have had.
Caelus leaned forward, his elbows resting on his cluttered desk, hands steepled beneath his chin. His piercing eyes, though not unkind, carried an intensity that made Aeryn feel as though every thought she had was being quietly dissected.
¡°So,¡± he began, his tone even and measured, ¡°the entity you encountered. Tell me everything you know.¡±
Aeryn glanced at Sylra, uncertainty flickering in her expression. ¡°I¡ don¡¯t really know anything about it,¡± she admitted, her voice hesitant. ¡°It was just¡ there. Always lurking, always watching. I thought it was just part of the ruins. I never¡ª¡±
¡°It¡¯s not her fault,¡± Sylra interrupted, her soft glow brightening as she drifted closer to Caelus. ¡°She couldn¡¯t have known. It stayed hidden from her, biding its time.¡±
Caelus¡¯s gaze shifted to Sylra, his expression sharpening with interest. ¡°But you knew,¡± he said, his voice quiet but pointed. ¡°You¡¯ve encountered it before, haven¡¯t you?¡±
Sylra pulsed faintly, as if gathering herself. ¡°I¡¯ve felt its presence,¡± she admitted. ¡°Even before the city fell into ruin, it was there¡ªan echo of something ancient, something that didn¡¯t belong. It doesn¡¯t move like we do, doesn¡¯t think like we do. Its purpose isn¡¯t something I can easily explain.¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
Caelus nodded, gesturing for her to continue.
¡°For a long time, it stayed dormant, content to remain in the shadows,¡± Sylra continued. ¡°But as the city decayed, it grew stronger, feeding off the despair and emptiness left behind. It became more than just a presence¡ªit became a force.¡±
¡°And what is its purpose?¡± Caelus asked, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.
Sylra hesitated, her light dimming slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it has one,¡± she said at last. ¡°But it knows how to claim things¡ªpeople, places, memories. It takes what doesn¡¯t belong to it and twists it into something¡ wrong.¡±
Caelus leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly against the desk. ¡°A force of reclamation, then? Or destruction?¡±
¡°Both,¡± Sylra replied. ¡°It doesn¡¯t create or destroy in the way you might think. It alters, reshapes, consumes. It takes what it touches and makes it unrecognizable.¡±
Aeryn shifted in her seat, her brow furrowing. ¡°Why does it care about us, then? Or about you?¡± she asked, glancing at Sylra and then back at Caelus.
Caelus¡¯s expression darkened slightly, his gaze growing distant. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m trying to understand,¡± he said quietly.
¡°Its words¡ª¡®You don¡¯t belong here¡¯¡ªthose weren¡¯t for you. They were for me.¡±
Sylra pulsed again, her light tinged with unease. ¡°It knew you were watching,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s not just an entity¡ªit¡¯s aware.¡±
The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling over them like a heavy fog.
After a long moment, Caelus stood, his movements deliberate. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, his voice softer now. ¡°You¡¯ve given me much to think about.¡±
He turned to Aeryn, his expression easing into a faint smile. ¡°You¡¯ve done well. Both of you. Your trial wasn¡¯t an easy one, and yet here you are.¡±
Aeryn blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. ¡°Uh¡ thanks?¡± she said uncertainly, glancing at Sylra for reassurance.
Caelus chuckled lightly, waving a hand. ¡°Go on, then. Your trial is complete. I¡¯ll send you to rejoin the others.¡±
Before Aeryn could respond, a warm glow enveloped her and Sylra, the familiar pull of magic tugging at the edges of her consciousness. The room dissolved into light, and when it faded, she found herself standing in the middle of a large arena.
Around her, dozens of students milled about, their voices rising and falling in a chaotic symphony of excitement and nerves. Some were seated in groups, animatedly discussing their trials, while others stood alone, scanning the crowd with wide, uncertain eyes.
Sylra floated beside her, her presence grounding as Aeryn took in the bustling scene. She scanned the crowd, her gaze landing on a familiar figure.
He stood a short distance away, his sandy-colored hair catching the light as he spoke animatedly with another boy.
Aeryn hesitated, a flicker of relief passing through her as their eyes met briefly. He gave her a small nod, his expression a bit flustered, quickly returning his focus to the conversation he was having.
She lingered for a second longer, then moved on. He was just someone she¡¯d crossed paths with briefly, nothing more. But in a place filled with unfamiliar faces and voices, even the smallest connection felt grounding, if only for a moment.
Sylra hovered close, her light brushing against Aeryn¡¯s shoulder in a gesture of quiet reassurance. She let out a slow breath, her gaze shifting back to the crowd as she started weaving her way through, eager to find her place among a growing number of students.
Chapter 19: Moments That Define
What defines a person? Is it the storms they weather, the heights they reach, or the depths they fall to? Or is it something quieter, something subtler¡ªthe moments that slip by almost unnoticed, yet linger like whispers in the corners of a life?
Sometimes, it¡¯s not the battles fought or the triumphs earned that shape a soul. Sometimes, it¡¯s a fleeting exchange¡ªa single conversation. Words, simple and unassuming, can ripple outward, changing the shape of a future in ways no one could foresee.
Not every trial is forged in fire or shadow; some lie hidden in the soft places of a life, buried in the choices that define a person when no one else is watching.
And so, his trial began.
Kiran stood in the familiar streets of his village. The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the cobblestone paths in soft hues of gold and orange. He knew this place¡ªevery twist of the narrow alleyways, every merchant¡¯s stand lining the square. It was a memory, yet not quite.
The observer¡¯s voice drifted into his mind, steady and calm. ¡°This is your trial, Kiran. A moment that shaped you. A choice that defined you.¡±
Kiran frowned, his hand instinctively brushing against the small pouch at his belt where he often kept sand for his magic. ¡°What choice?¡± he asked, his voice laced with caution.
The village square began to blur, and when it refocused, he wasn¡¯t alone anymore. In the center of the square stood a younger version of himself, no more than twelve years old. His face was etched with a mix of frustration and sadness as he spoke with his father, a man whose weathered features bore the weight of countless struggles.
¡°I don¡¯t see why you have to leave,¡± his father said, his voice firm but not angry. His hands rested on the edge of a wooden cart laden with goods for their family¡¯s trade. ¡°We need you here, Kiran. The business needs you.¡±
The younger Kiran crossed his arms, his expression resolute despite the quiver in his voice. ¡°I want to study magic, Pa. Real magic, not just tricks to move sand around.¡±
¡°This isn¡¯t about tricks,¡± his father replied sharply, his tone tinged with hurt. ¡°It¡¯s about family. About responsibility. What will happen to this business if you¡¯re not here to help? What will happen to us?¡±
The older Kiran watched the exchange from a distance, his stomach twisting. He remembered this conversation vividly, how the weight of his father¡¯s words had felt like an anchor pulling him down.
¡°And still you left?¡± the observer¡¯s voice prodded gently, more curious than accusatory.
¡°I¡ yes,¡± Kiran admitted, his eyes never leaving the scene. ¡°It wasn¡¯t an easy choice.¡±
¡°And yet, you made it.¡±
Kiran¡¯s gaze softened, his shoulders slumping as the memory played out before him. ¡°It wasn¡¯t like that at first,¡± he said, his voice tinged with a mix of regret and wistfulness. ¡°I didn¡¯t just pack up and leave. They convinced me to stay¡ªfor a while, at least.¡±
The observer¡¯s silence invited him to continue, and Kiran found himself sinking into the recollection.
The scene shifted, and Kiran was standing in the familiar warmth of his family¡¯s small shop. Shelves lined with jars of sand and stone in varying hues and textures filled the space, each one carefully labeled. His father stood behind the counter, engaging a customer with his usual blend of humor and charm, while his mother arranged a new shipment of goods by the window.
The younger Kiran was there too, diligently sweeping the floor, though his heart wasn¡¯t in it. His movements were sluggish, his eyes drifting longingly toward the doorway and the open sky beyond.
¡°They said I could leave someday,¡± Kiran murmured, watching himself in the memory. ¡°But not yet. They needed me, and I¡ I couldn¡¯t say no.¡±
He fell silent as the memory shifted again. This time, the shop was quiet, the sunlight filtering in through the windows casting a golden glow over the space. The younger Kiran was at the counter, counting coins and organizing ledgers under his father¡¯s watchful eye.
It was during one of those quiet days that the boy arrived¡ªa stranger brought to the village by a merchant caravan. Kiran remembered it vividly. The boy couldn¡¯t have been much older than him, but there was something striking about him: the way he moved, detached and aloof, his gaze rarely meeting anyone¡¯s. He spoke to no one, his silence unnerving some of the villagers and intriguing others.
But what stayed with Kiran the most was the boy¡¯s eyes. There was something there¡ªa flicker of something wild and unrelenting, like a storm trapped behind glass. Even now, Kiran couldn¡¯t quite put it into words. It wasn¡¯t anger or sadness; it was something deeper, something raw.
The boy kept to himself, wandering the edges of the village as though he were looking for something he¡¯d lost. The caravan merchants said little about him, only that he was traveling with them for reasons they didn¡¯t fully understand themselves.
Kiran watched him from a distance at first, curious but cautious. There was an energy about the boy that made it hard to look away, even when he was doing nothing at all.
And then, one day, the boy set something on fire.
It started small¡ªa flicker of flame dancing on his fingertips as he sat on the edge of the village square. The merchants had set up camp for the evening, their wagons forming a loose circle around a fire pit. The boy, however, wasn¡¯t with them. He sat apart, his back to the wagons, his focus entirely on the flame.
Kiran had been walking home when he spotted him. He stopped in his tracks, drawn to the sight of the boy conjuring the fire with a casual ease that seemed almost careless.
The flame grew. Slowly at first, then faster, its light reflecting in the boy¡¯s unwavering gaze. The villagers began to notice, murmurs spreading as the fire expanded beyond his hand, curling upward into the air like a serpent.
Panic began to ripple through the crowd, but Kiran stood rooted to the spot. He couldn¡¯t look away¡ªnot from the fire, and not from the boy¡¯s eyes. There was something mesmerizing about the way the boy moved, his hand guiding the flame with a precision that was both deliberate and wild.
But it didn¡¯t stop. The flames began to lick at the ground, threatening to spread.
Kiran¡¯s breath hitched, his hands clenching instinctively. Without thinking, he dropped his pack and reached for the sand pouch at his belt.
The older Kiran watched as his younger self stepped forward, summoning a swirl of sand that hovered in the air like a shimmering cloud. The boy didn¡¯t seem to notice him at first, his focus entirely on the growing inferno.
¡°Stop!¡± the younger Kiran called out, his voice cracking slightly.
The boy¡¯s head turned sharply, his gaze locking onto Kiran. For a moment, neither of them moved.
And then, without a word, the boy turned back to the fire and raised his hand higher, pushing the flames further.
Kiran¡¯s sand surged forward, wrapping around the fire and smothering it in one fluid motion. The crowd gasped, a mix of relief and awe rippling through the onlookers.
The flames hissed and sputtered as they died, leaving a smoky residue in their wake. The boy stood there, motionless, his hand still raised as though holding onto the remnants of the fire.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Kiran approached cautiously, his sand swirling protectively around him. ¡°What are you doing?¡± he asked, his voice steadier this time.
The boy didn¡¯t answer. His hand dropped to his side, and without so much as a glance at Kiran, he walked away.
The older Kiran¡¯s voice broke through the memory. ¡°That was the first time I realized what I could do,¡± he murmured.
¡°You mean with your sand?¡± the observer asked.
¡°No, not just that,¡± Kiran said, his tone thoughtful. ¡°I mean, the fire was dangerous, but it was controlled. And my sand¡ it wasn¡¯t just reacting. It was growing, changing¡ªmatching the flames step for step.¡±
The scene shifted again, showing younger Kiran practicing with his sand late into the night. The memory of the boy¡¯s fire seemed to push him, drive him to explore his own magic in ways he hadn¡¯t before.
The scene shifted again, pulling Kiran through memories that had etched themselves into his very being. Each time the boy conjured flames, Kiran was there, watching, waiting¡ªand eventually, acting.
The first fire had been chaotic, born from a restless energy the boy seemed unable to contain. But the fires that followed were deliberate. Each blaze was more intricate, more consuming, as though the boy were testing the limits of his power, pushing himself further with every flick of his hand.
And Kiran? He had no choice but to rise to meet him.
It started simply enough. Kiran¡¯s sand magic had always been steady, reliable¡ªan extension of the earth beneath his feet. But facing the boy¡¯s flames forced him to adapt, to think faster and act with precision.
The older Kiran watched as his younger self ran through the village square, chasing down a ribbon of fire that curled through the air like a living thing. His sand wove intricate patterns, spiraling into a barrier that swallowed the flames before they could spread.
The boy watched him from a distance, his expression unreadable. He never thanked Kiran, never acknowledged the effort it took to snuff out his creations.
But he kept setting fires.
Each blaze forced Kiran to push himself further. He began experimenting with his magic late at night, long after the fires had been extinguished and the village had settled into uneasy quiet. He tried shaping his sand into new forms, weaving it tighter, stronger, faster.
The boy¡¯s fires grew more unpredictable, flaring in sudden bursts or splitting into smaller, faster embers that danced just out of reach. Kiran had to think on his feet, his magic evolving in response to each challenge.
One day, the boy conjured a wall of fire that seemed impossible to breach. It was a heat so intense it warped the air around it, crackling with raw, untamed energy. Kiran stood at the edge of the inferno, his mind racing.
And then, an idea struck him.
The younger Kiran crouched low, pressing his hands into the earth. His sand responded immediately, swirling upward in a dense column that twisted into the air. But instead of simply smothering the flames, he guided the sand with precision, creating a funnel that drew the fire upward and away from the village.
The fire roared as it was pulled into the spiral, its heat dissipating as the sand consumed it. By the time the last ember flickered out, the boy was standing nearby, his arms crossed, watching.
For the first time, he spoke.
¡°That was impressive,¡± the boy said, his voice quiet but carrying a weight that made Kiran pause.
Kiran straightened, wiping the sweat from his brow. ¡°It had to be,¡± he replied, his tone sharper than he intended. ¡°You could¡¯ve burned the whole village down.¡±
The boy tilted his head, his gaze thoughtful. ¡°But you didn¡¯t let it happen.¡±
Kiran blinked, caught off guard by the boy¡¯s words.
The boy extended a hand. ¡°I¡¯m Elias.¡±
The older Kiran let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. ¡°He just said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. No apology, no explanation¡ªjust his name.¡±
¡°And that was enough?¡± the observer asked.
¡°No,¡± Kiran said with a wry smile. ¡°But it was the start.¡±
The memory shifted again, showing the two boys standing side by side. Elias was holding a flicker of flame in his hand, and Kiran was guiding a tendril of sand toward it. Together, they worked to shape the elements, their magic intertwining in ways that neither of them had expected.
It was during one of those shared moments that Elias finally asked Kiran a question that changed everything.
¡°Why do you stay here?¡± Elias¡¯s tone was casual, but his words struck a nerve.
Kiran hesitated, his sand faltering mid-air. ¡°What do you mean?¡±
¡°You¡¯re better than this,¡± Elias said, gesturing to the village around them. ¡°You could do so much more. So why stay?¡±
Kiran¡¯s first instinct was to argue, to defend his life and his choices. But something about the way Elias said it¡ªso matter-of-fact, without judgment¡ªmade him stop and think.
¡°I¡ I don¡¯t know,¡± Kiran admitted finally.
Elias smirked, tossing his flame into the air and catching it again. ¡°Then maybe it¡¯s time you figured it out.¡±
The older Kiran¡¯s voice softened, his gaze distant as he spoke. ¡°That conversation¡ªit wasn¡¯t some grand moment, but it stuck with me. It was like a spark, something I didn¡¯t even realize I needed. I¡¯d been waiting for permission to leave, for someone to tell me it was okay to walk away from everything I¡¯d ever known. And Elias? He made me see that I didn¡¯t need anyone¡¯s permission but my own.¡±
The scene shifted, and the quiet stillness of the village at dawn came into view. Kiran stood at the edge of the path leading out, his pack slung over one shoulder. His parents were there, standing a few paces away, their expressions etched with a mix of emotions¡ªpride, sadness, and something else he couldn¡¯t quite name.
His mother was the first to speak, her voice trembling slightly. ¡°You don¡¯t have to go,¡± she said, though there was no force behind her words. It was a plea, but not a command.
Kiran met her gaze, his heart tightening. ¡°I do,¡± he replied, his voice steady but not unkind. ¡°If I stay¡ I¡¯ll always wonder what¡¯s out there. I¡¯ll never know what I¡¯m capable of.¡±
His father stepped forward, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. ¡°The world out there is bigger than you can imagine,¡± he said, his tone gruff but not harsh. ¡°But you¡¯ve got the strength to face it. Just don¡¯t forget where you come from.¡±
Kiran nodded, his throat tightening. ¡°I won¡¯t.¡±
He turned to leave, but his mother¡¯s voice stopped him one last time. ¡°Kiran¡ just promise me you¡¯ll come back.¡±
He glanced over his shoulder, offering a small, reassuring smile. ¡°I will.¡±
As he took his first steps down the path, the weight of the moment pressed on him. Each step felt heavier than the last, but he didn¡¯t stop. The village grew smaller behind him, the familiar sounds fading into the distance.
The memory faded like mist dissolving under the morning sun, leaving Kiran standing alone in the void. He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing as the tension ebbed away. The weight of his departure, the echoes of his parents¡¯ words, still lingered in his chest, but there was something else now¡ªclarity.
From the unseen expanse above, Caelus observed in thoughtful silence. His gaze, sharp yet reflective, lingered on the young man below.
¡°What defines a person?¡± Caelus mused to himself, his voice barely audible in the emptiness around him. ¡°Is it the choices they make? The people they meet? Or perhaps the courage to walk into the unknown?"
He leaned back in his seat within the metaphysical plane, fingers steepled as he contemplated. ¡°Kiran¡¯s trial wasn¡¯t a test of magic or might,¡± he continued, speaking into the void. ¡°It was one of resolve¡ªa quiet, steady strength that doesn¡¯t announce itself but grows with every step forward. Perhaps that¡¯s the truest measure of character. Not the moments of glory, but the willingness to move forward despite fear, despite uncertainty.¡±
Caelus¡¯s thoughts shifted to the nature of trials themselves. Each one tailored, each one revealing something fundamental about its subject. A boy¡¯s trial of fire, born from a world consumed by destruction, forced him to reconcile with the uncontrollable nature of the very element he mastered. A girl¡¯s trial of connection, bound to the spirit that had become her anchor, tested the strength of a bond forged through survival and trust. And now, a boy¡¯s trial of resolve, drawn from the quiet resolve it takes to leave behind the familiar and embrace the unknown, unfolded before him. Each trial unique, each one a window into the soul.
Kiran¡¯s was not about fire or sand, about power or control. It was about leaving behind the familiar, about finding the courage to redefine oneself in a world vast and unknown.
The observer¡¯s voice broke the stillness, soft but resonant. ¡°Your trial ends here, Kiran.¡±
Kiran looked up, his brows knitting together. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± he asked, his tone equal parts relief and confusion.
¡°That¡¯s it,¡± the voice confirmed. ¡°You¡¯ve shown what needed to be seen. Your strength isn¡¯t in what you left behind, but in your willingness to keep moving forward, even when the path wasn¡¯t clear.¡±
Kiran stood quietly for a moment, his expression thoughtful. ¡°I always thought trials were supposed to be about proving something.¡±
¡°They are,¡± the observer replied. ¡°But not to anyone else. This was never about proving yourself to me or to anyone watching. It was about showing yourself what you¡¯re capable of.¡±
The words hung in the air for a moment before the space around Kiran began to shimmer. The void dissolved, replaced by the hum of distant voices and the familiar energy of the academy.
Kiran found himself standing in an open arena, surrounded by other students. The buzz of conversations filled the air as more students appeared, their expressions ranging from confusion to relief.
He took a deep breath, letting the sounds of the real world anchor him. His gaze swept over the crowd, and his lips quirked into a faint smile when he spotted Elias in the distance, gesturing wildly as he recounted something to a small group of onlookers.
Kiran didn¡¯t approach him, not yet. Instead, he stood still, allowing himself a moment to reflect. The trial was over, but its echoes remained. He had left his village long ago, but today, for the first time, he felt like he¡¯d truly stepped forward into the person he was meant to be.
Above him, Caelus observed with a quiet satisfaction. ¡°Well done, Kiran,¡± he murmured, his tone warm but edged with a hint of curiosity. ¡°The path ahead will challenge you, but I think you¡¯ll find your footing.¡±
The headmaster¡¯s attention shifted briefly to the gathering students below, each carrying the weight of their own trials. ¡°And so it begins,¡± he said softly, leaning back as the hum of the arena grew louder, signaling the arrival of even more hopefuls.
Chapter 20: Entrance Examinations (4)
Elias and Kiran¡¯s brief reunion came to an abrupt end when the air above the arena crackled with energy. A streak of radiant light shot into the sky, exploding into a dazzling burst of silver and blue sparks. The noise died instantly as all heads turned toward its source.
Standing at the heart of the arena was a tall, commanding figure¡ªa woman dressed in the sharp blues and silvers of the academy¡¯s colors. Her presence alone silenced the whispers that had rippled through the crowd moments earlier.
She didn¡¯t need to raise her voice to capture their full attention. ¡°Welcome,¡± she began, her tone steady, authoritative. ¡°I am Proctor Lenara, and I will oversee this portion of your entrance examination.¡±
Her eyes scanned the group of students before her, sharp and discerning. It felt, to many, as though she could see straight through them, peeling back their confidence, nerves, or bravado.
With a sweep of her arm, she directed their attention to the far side of the arena. At first, there was nothing remarkable to see, just an elevated platform. But then, in a flash of light, a simple wooden dummy materialized, standing upright in the center of the platform. Its plain, unassuming appearance seemed almost out of place in the grandeur of the arena.
¡°This,¡± Lenara said, her voice carrying effortlessly through the hushed arena, ¡°is your next trial. The task is simple: destroy this dummy.¡±
The murmurs returned, growing louder as students exchanged glances. Destroying a dummy? It seemed almost too easy, and yet no one was foolish enough to think there wasn¡¯t a catch.
Elias shifted his weight uneasily, his gaze lingering on the unassuming wooden figure. He had seen this before, countless times, from his perch atop the arena walls. Hopefuls just like him had faced this exact trial¡ªsome with confidence, others trembling with nerves. The results were rarely what anyone expected.
He could still recall the flashes of magic, the bursts of raw energy that had lit up the practice arena. Some students had conjured grand, spectacular displays, only for their efforts to fizzle out or miss the mark entirely. Others had unleashed unrelenting force, obliterating not just the dummy but part of the arena itself, earning them nothing but disapproving glances from the judges.
And then there were those who had barely made an impact, their magic faltering under the pressure of so many watchful eyes. He had watched as one by one, they were sent away, their dreams crushed beneath the weight of their failure.
Now, standing in the arena himself, Elias couldn¡¯t shake the memory of their faces¡ªthe mixture of hope and despair, the moment their confidence crumbled. The dummy might have been made of wood, but it seemed to grow heavier with every passing second, as though it carried the weight of all those failed attempts.
Beside him, Kiran gave a low whistle, breaking Elias¡¯s thoughts. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look so tough, does it?¡± he muttered, though his tone carried an edge of nervous energy.
Elias didn¡¯t respond. His fingers brushed against his wand, the faint heat of its flames grounding him. He¡¯d seen how easy it was to fail, how quickly a small miscalculation could unravel everything. But he¡¯d also learned something from watching all those hopefuls before him: this trial wasn¡¯t about power alone.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
The murmurs around him grew louder still, but Elias¡¯s focus remained on the dummy, his thoughts swirling as the tension in the arena thickened. Would he be the one to break the pattern¡ªor repeat it?
¡°Silence,¡± Lenara called, her tone sharp and cutting through the chatter like a blade. Instantly, the arena fell quiet.
She strode forward, her measured steps resonating against the stone beneath her feet. ¡°This is not merely a test of raw power,¡± she continued, her gaze sweeping across the students. ¡°It is a test of ingenuity, control, and creativity. The manner in which you destroy this dummy will speak volumes about your potential. Consider your approach carefully.¡±
Lenara allowed a moment for her words to settle, the weight of her statement pressing down on the crowd.
¡°Each of you will have your turn. One at a time, and in full view of your peers. Make no mistake¡ªthis is as much a test of composure as it is of skill. Destroy the dummy, yes. But remember, the academy watches how you do it. What you choose to show us now will echo throughout your time here.¡±
Her eyes lingered on a few students in the crowd, her expression unreadable. ¡°Pay attention to those who come before you. Observe their methods, their strengths, and their weaknesses. Learn what you can. And when your time comes, show us who you are.¡±
She stepped back to the center of the arena, her hands clasped behind her back. ¡°Now then,¡± she said, her voice tinged with faint amusement, ¡°who among you will be the first to step forward?¡±
For a long, tense moment, no one moved. The students shuffled nervously, eyes darting to one another, waiting for someone to volunteer.
¡°Shall I choose, then?¡± Lenara¡¯s voice was light, but her tone carried an unmistakable edge that made it clear she would not wait forever.
Elias felt his chest tighten as he looked at the dummy in the distance. It was just a piece of wood, but standing there under the weight of Lenara¡¯s gaze and the silent expectation of the crowd, it felt like more. His hand brushed against his wand, the faint warmth of its flames radiating through the material.
Beside him, Kiran shifted, his sand-colored wand held loosely at his side. He raised an eyebrow at Elias. ¡°You thinking about it?¡±
Elias didn¡¯t answer. His gaze was fixed on the platform, and he wasn¡¯t sure if it was nervous energy or sheer determination building in his chest.
Another moment passed, the tension in the air thick enough to cut.
¡°Very well,¡± Lenara said, her tone turning faintly amused as she scanned the crowd. ¡°If no one will step forward¡¡±
Her hand extended, a subtle pulse of magic rippling from her fingertips. Several students stiffened, unsure who she would choose.
And then, in an instant, a boy vanished from their ranks. Gasps rippled through the crowd as heads turned to the center of the arena, where he now stood.
The boy blinked, clearly startled to find himself there. He glanced down at his attire, confused. A moment ago, he had been dressed in his everyday travel clothes¡ªa patched tunic and worn trousers. But now, he was clad in ceremonial robes of blue and silver, the shimmering fabric catching the light with every movement.
¡°Candidate,¡± Proctor Lenara¡¯s voice cut through the murmurs, steady and firm, ¡°produce your wand.¡±
The boy hesitated, his hands twitching at his sides. The weight of the crowd¡¯s attention pressed heavily on him, their silence expectant and unrelenting. For a moment, it seemed as though he might falter.
Then, with a shaky breath, he reached into his well. The faint hum of magic resonated through the arena as he extended his arm, his fingers curling into an arcane gesture. Slowly, a wand began to form¡ªthin, jagged, and raw, as though it had been hastily forged.
Whispers returned to the crowd, curious and uncertain. The wand pulsed faintly in his grip, its form flickering as though it were struggling to hold its shape.
Lenara¡¯s expression remained impassive as she gestured toward the wooden dummy. ¡°Proceed,¡± she commanded.
Chapter 21: Showtime (1)
The boy¡¯s brow furrowed as he focused, his hands trembling slightly as he shaped his magic. Elias watched from the sidelines, his sharp eyes narrowing. It wasn¡¯t as flashy as some of the displays he¡¯d seen before¡ªnot even close. There were no grand bursts of energy, no dazzling spectacle.
It was almost¡ unremarkable.
The boy¡¯s wand, once fully formed, rested awkwardly in his hand. It was a crude thing, its surface uneven and jagged, as though hastily carved from a single piece of wood. There was no intricate design or evident mastery in its creation, only simplicity.
Elias couldn¡¯t help but frown. He¡¯d seen wands that pulsed with power, radiating confidence in their craftsmanship. This one felt different, like it didn¡¯t belong here. Yet, the boy seemed undeterred.
With a steadying breath, the boy raised his wand in front of him, his grip firm despite its imperfections. Slowly, he began to move, tracing symbols of light in the air. Each stroke was deliberate, his motions fluid yet restrained, as though he were walking the line between careful precision and uncertainty.
The symbols shimmered faintly, their glow modest but steady, casting faint reflections on the polished floor of the arena. A few students leaned forward, their curiosity piqued.
¡°What¡¯s he doing?¡± Kiran muttered under his breath, glancing at Elias.
Elias shook his head slightly, his attention fixed on the boy. ¡°Drawing sigils,¡± he murmured, more to himself than in response. ¡°That''s what it looks like at least.¡±
Indeed, the symbols the boy created were unfamiliar, their shapes intricate but lacking the flourish or grandeur that typically accompanied such magic. Each one floated in place, connected by faint lines of energy, forming a complex pattern that pulsed gently in the air.
Sigils were the language of magic¡ªboth art and science combined into a singular discipline. For centuries, wizards had used them to channel their mana, crafting patterns and sequences that dictated the behavior of their spells. A single stroke could mean the difference between a precise invocation and uncontrolled chaos. They were the foundation upon which many forms of structured magic were built.
Elias, however, had little patience for such trivialities.
He¡¯d known of others who''d fuss over sigils, pouring over their intricate designs and meanings, speaking of their beauty and versatility. But for Elias, they had always seemed unnecessary¡ªa layer of artifice added to something that should have been instinctual. Fire didn¡¯t need symbols to burn, to rage, to consume. It simply was.
So, while others delved into the study of sigils, Elias had dismissed them entirely. Why waste time on a practice so esoteric and tedious when the raw force of fire could achieve the same, if not better, results?
Watching the boy now, Elias¡¯s was skeptical. The effort seemed overblown, needlessly intricate. And yet¡ there was something about the boy¡¯s focus, the steady rhythm of his movements, that held Elias¡¯s attention in spite of himself.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
The faint lines connecting the sigils pulsed again, their light growing stronger, more stable. Elias folded his arms, a flicker of curiosity creeping into his otherwise dismissive gaze.
The crowd murmured softly, their confusion evident. There was no roaring display of power, no immediate sign of destruction aimed at the dummy. But the boy¡¯s focus never wavered, his movements precise as he continued to build his construct.
¡°Candidate,¡± Proctor Lenara¡¯s voice rang out, measured but with a slight edge. ¡°You have one minute remaining.¡±
The boy¡¯s hand stilled for just a moment, his body tensing at her words. Then, without hesitation, he pointed his wand toward the symbols and whispered a single word.
The sigils flared brightly, their glow intensifying as the lines connecting them pulsed in quick succession. The crowd fell silent, their murmurs replaced by an air of quiet anticipation.
Elias leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he tried to piece together what was about to happen.
The moment hung suspended, the energy in the arena thick and expectant. The boy thrust his wand forward, and the sigils vanished in an instant, their intricate patterns dissolving into nothingness.
A collective murmur of disappointment rippled through the crowd, the anticlimax palpable. Some students exchanged bemused glances, while others sighed audibly, leaning back as though the show was already over.
Elias frowned, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± he muttered, half to himself.
But then, a moment later, the wooden dummy erupted in a violent explosion.
The force sent a shockwave rippling across the arena, the ground trembling slightly as fragments of wood scattered like shrapnel. A bright flash of light followed, temporarily blinding the onlookers closest to the display. Gasps and cries of shock echoed through the arena as the realization struck: the spell hadn¡¯t failed¡ªit had succeeded brilliantly, just with a delayed impact.
Elias¡¯s eyes widened, his breath catching as he uncrossed his arms. ¡°Huh¡ okay, wow,¡± he whispered under his breath, his tone begrudging but laced with curiosity.
Before the murmurs could swell too loudly among the students, Lenara stepped forward, her sharp gaze fixed on the spot where the dummy once stood. She studied the aftermath in silence, her expression unreadable, before finally nodding.
¡°Candidate,¡± she announced, her voice cutting through the lingering noise like a blade, ¡°you have succeeded in the first phase of tour trial, and therefore, you will proceed to the second phase.¡±
The boy, still standing in the arena, blinked in surprise before his features settled into a mix of relief and pride.
Lenara extended her hand, and a glowing circle of runes appeared beneath the boy¡¯s feet. The intricate symbols pulsed with energy, their light rising in a shimmering column around him. With a sound like a faint chime, the boy¡¯s form vanished, teleported away to the next stage of the examination.
The crowd stirred, the students exchanging excited whispers. For some, the demonstration had confirmed their hopes of moving forward. For others, it had only deepened their anxieties about the trial¡¯s challenges.
Elias remained silent, his mind turning over what he¡¯d just witnessed. The boy¡¯s use of sigils, the delayed explosion¡ªit wasn¡¯t quite what he had expected, but it had undeniably worked.
Lenara turned back to the crowd, her sharp eyes sweeping over the gathered students. ¡°Next,¡± she said, her tone brooking no hesitation.
Before anyone could fully register what was happening, another student vanished from the group. Gasps rippled through the crowd as the student reappeared in the center of the arena, now dressed in ceremonial robes of blues and silver.
The new candidate looked down at their transformed attire, their expression flickering between awe and unease before they straightened their posture, their wand clutched tightly in hand.
¡°Candidate,¡± Lenara said, her voice carrying the same commanding tone, ¡°produce your wand.¡±
The crowd fell silent once more, anticipation building as the second trial began. Elias leaned forward slightly, his curiosity piqued, as he watched the next hopeful step into the spotlight.
Chapter 22: Showtime (2)
The trials marched on, a blend of anticipation and spectacle that pulsed through the arena like a living thing. One by one, students disappeared from the crowd, only to reappear moments later at the arena¡¯s center, clad in ceremonial robes that gleamed under the midday sun. The air hummed with energy as each candidate stepped forward to demonstrate their craft.
Some unleashed raw, unbridled power, drawing gasps from the audience as they forced the elements to obey their will. Others relied on precision and finesse, their displays intricate but lacking the explosive grandeur that stirred the crowd. A few, perhaps too eager to impress, stumbled under the pressure, their spells misfiring with results that were more amusing than awe-inspiring.
From his spot near the back, Elias shifted restlessly. The initial thrill of watching the examinations had begun to fade, replaced by a gnawing impatience. To him, the performances blurred together¡ªa parade of fireballs, wind gusts, and glowing sigils that all seemed to bleed into one another. Most of the hopefuls were competent enough, sure, but none of them carried the spark that made Elias sit up and take notice.
He leaned against the railing, stifling a yawn as yet another student conjured a flurry of light that fizzled out with a pop. "Come on," he muttered under his breath. "Show me something real."
That changed when the next boy appeared.
The arena¡¯s magic flickered, and a new figure materialized in its center. At first glance, there was nothing particularly striking about him¡ªan average height, messy dark hair, and robes that seemed a little too big for his lean frame. Yet, something about his presence demanded attention.
Elias straightened, his curiosity piqued. "Wait," he muttered to himself. "I¡¯ve seen him before."
The boy¡¯s gaze swept over the arena, calm and deliberate. Unlike the nervous energy of most candidates, his movements carried a quiet confidence that set him apart. His posture wasn¡¯t rigid or forced; it was as though he belonged there¡ªas though the trials were a formality he was merely indulging.
"Candidate," Lenara¡¯s voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "Produce your wand."
The boy¡¯s movements were deliberate, each action carrying a calm precision that set him apart from the flashier displays before him. Slowly, he raised a hand, and the air around him seemed to tremble, faint ripples emanating outward as though reality itself was holding its breath. A faint hum began to rise, so soft it was almost imperceptible, yet it carried a weight that pressed against the ears of everyone present.
He closed his eyes, his expression serene, and extended his arm toward the ground. A low, resonant tone filled the arena, its frequency vibrating through the earth. From the ground beneath him, the faint shimmer of magic coalesced, condensing into a slender, elegant wand. It rose into his hand as though drawn by the very sound that had summoned it. The wand seemed unassuming at first glance, but its surface pulsed faintly with energy, a resonance that matched the hum still hanging in the air.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The crowd, which had been murmuring in confusion, fell silent. There was something unnervingly precise about the boy¡¯s magic¡ªno grand explosions, no radiant lights¡ªjust the subtle yet undeniable power of sound.
He turned his attention to the wooden dummy across the arena, his wand now firmly in hand. The boy took a deep breath, and the hum around him shifted, morphing into a steady rhythm, like a heartbeat echoing in the vast expanse of the arena.
Then, with a flick of his wand, the sound transformed into a sharp, piercing tone. The frequency climbed higher, cutting through the air like a blade. The audience winced, some covering their ears as the intensity grew. The wooden dummy trembled violently under the assault, the vibrations visibly rippling through its surface.
With a final upward swing of his wand, the tone reached a crescendo¡ªa pure, deafening note that seemed to hang in the air for an eternity. Then, in an instant, it stopped.
The silence that followed was almost more jarring than the sound itself. The dummy stood still for a moment, and then, without warning, it splintered into a cascade of fragments, the vibrations having torn it apart from within.
Elias uncrossed his arms, leaning forward slightly as he watched the boy¡¯s demonstration. The hum, the precision, the resonance¡ªit wasn¡¯t magic Elias had seen often, if ever. But as the boy¡¯s wand came to life with a piercing tone, Elias¡¯s thoughts drifted.
He¡¯d seen this boy before.
The memory struck him as he watched the vibrations ripple through the wooden dummy. Back during the announcement, when everyone¡ªincluding Elias¡ªhad been struggling against the endless droning of the voice, this boy had stood as though unaffected. His posture had been calm, his expression unreadable, as though the sound had never reached him.
Elias narrowed his eyes, his curiosity piqued. Could he control the sound around himself? The idea gnawed at him. If the boy¡¯s magic allowed him to manipulate sound to that degree, it would explain his serene composure during the announcement. While others were drawn into the monotonous cadence of the speech, this boy might have been weaving his own harmony, bending the noise to his will.
Elias''s gaze sharpened as the boy ended his demonstration, the dummy¡¯s destruction complete and the air returning to its natural stillness. I might have to watch out for him, Elias thought, a quiet unease setting its place in his chest. There¡¯s something¡ off about him. Something I can¡¯t quite put my finger on.
Beside him, Kiran let out a low whistle, his arms crossed as he leaned back. ¡°Well, that¡¯s... different,¡± he muttered, his tone carrying a mix of intrigue and skepticism. He shot a glance at Elias. ¡°What do you make of that?¡±
Elias didn¡¯t respond immediately, his eyes still locked on the boy as he vanished in a shimmer of light, the trial¡¯s magic whisking him away. Finally, he muttered, ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet.¡±
Kiran arched a brow. ¡°Not sure, or not ready to say?¡±
Elias¡¯s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn¡¯t answer, his gaze drifting back to the center of the arena as the next candidate was summoned.