《All I Want is to be Broken Too》 Chapter 0: Welcome to Aetherion Academy Magic is a simple term that can be explained in an endless amount of ways, but put simply, it¡¯s the art of turning imagination into reality, drawn from the limitless wells within ourselves. It is the force that weaves the fabric of our world, shaping the extraordinary from the mundane. Here, in the great city of Illumnis, magic isn¡¯t just a gift¡ªit¡¯s a way of life. Illumnis stands as a beacon for dreamers, innovators, and scholars alike, boasting a wealth of institutions dedicated to the pursuit of magical excellence. Towering spires hum with energy as spells are cast in perfect synchrony; cobblestone streets glow faintly at night, illuminated by the enchantments of aspiring mages. Every corner of the city pulses with the potential of discovery, from bustling workshops crafting arcane machinery to tranquil gardens where elementalists converse with nature itself. At the heart of Illumnis lies its pride and joy: its renowned educational centers. The Sanctum of Form, where illusionists redefine the boundaries of perception. The Forge of Embers, where pyromancers learn to master the flames of creation and destruction. The Tidespire, where water¡¯s endless adaptability is explored in forms both serene and destructive. Each institution offers a unique lens into the boundless world of magic, catering to every aspiring mage¡¯s passion and talents.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. But among these celebrated schools, none are as illustrious or ambitious as Aetherion Academy. Aetherion is more than just a place of learning¡ªit is an invitation to defy the ordinary and embrace the extraordinary. Its gates, both physical and metaphorical, open only for the curious, the daring, and the determined. Within its hallowed halls, students are not merely taught; they are challenged to think, to create, and to leave a legacy that shapes the world. Imagine yourself walking through Aetherion¡¯s grand halls, past shimmering glyphs etched into marble pillars, and through libraries that seem to stretch infinitely into the aether. Here, you¡¯ll find more than books and lectures¡ªyou¡¯ll find purpose. With a curriculum that spans the theoretical and the practical, Aetherion molds not just skilled mages but architects of the future. So, will you take this step into the unknown? Will you dare to uncover the secrets of your Well, to challenge yourself, and to craft a destiny no one else can claim? The gates of Aetherion stand open, waiting for those bold enough to step through. Welcome, dear reader, to the world of magic. Welcome to Aetherion Academy. Chapter 1: Flair over Function The midday sun bore down on a small open arena, where a young boy stood at its center, dressed in ceremonial examination robes that fluttered slightly in the warm breeze. The hum of whispered conversations filled the rafters above, where dozens of students leaned over the railings, eager to witness the next hopeful demonstrate their magic. Four teachers stood nearby, their faces a mix of curiosity and skepticism as they clutched clipboards and quills. One of them, a stern woman with piercing eyes, stepped forward and addressed the boy. "Candidate, produce your wand," she commanded. The boy nodded, his lips curling into a confident smirk. Without a word, he extended his arm downward, plunging it into the very ground beneath him. Gasps rippled through the audience as the dirt seemed to mold and twist, wrapping itself around his arm. The arena trembled slightly as the earth obeyed his will, rising and shaping itself into a solid form. Moments later, the tremor ceased, and the ground hardened into an intricately carved wand that floated just above his outstretched arm. With a dramatic flourish, the boy grabbed the wand from the air, spinning it once in his hand before taking a defiant stance. The teachers exchanged quiet murmurs, their quills scribbling furiously across their grading sheets. "Take aim and fire at will," the stern teacher ordered, gesturing toward a dummy-shaped target at the far end of the arena. The boy raised his wand, his confidence radiating through every movement. With a sharp flick upward, the ground beneath him cracked and rose, producing several fist-sized clumps of dirt that hovered briefly before launching forward with incredible speed. The projectiles hit their mark in quick succession, each impact sending shockwaves through the air. The final strike landed with explosive force, sending shockwaves through the air as the arena around the dummy erupted. The wall behind it shattered, chunks of stone and dirt raining down as a massive cloud of dust engulfed the area. For a moment, there was only silence, the audience holding their breath in stunned disbelief.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. The boy turned on his heel with a smug grin, flourishing his cape as though his success were undeniable. Cheers and murmurs of awe began to ripple through the audience as the dust started to settle. Two teachers wasted no time, soaring into the air on enchanted platforms, their robes billowing as they glided toward the destruction. They hovered over the debris, their eyes scanning the devastation with sharp precision. The crowd fell silent, their earlier excitement now replaced by anticipation and unease. Moments later, the stern voice of one of the teachers rang out, cutting through the tension like a blade. "Failure." The single word echoed through the arena, silencing even the faintest whispers. The teachers descended from the air, their expressions unreadable, as confusion rippled through the crowd. "He failed? How?" "What went wrong?" The whispers grew louder, mingled with scattered laughter from a few students. The boy¡¯s smug expression faltered, giving way to stunned disbelief as the weight of the announcement sunk in. Sitting atop a wall in a shadowed corner of the arena, another boy watched the scene unfold with quiet detachment. His hair fell messily over his face, but his sharp eyes betrayed his focus. When the announcement of failure rang out, he let out a small sigh, shaking his head as if the result were inevitable. "Of course," he muttered under his breath. "Flair over function." One of the teachers hovering over the debris raised their arm, their fingers tracing a quick arc through the air. A swirling cyclone of wind erupted from their gesture, cutting through the lingering dust and revealing the scene below. Amidst the destruction, the dummy stood untouched, its surface unmarred by the violent display. The sharp intake of breath from the crowd was audible as the realization dawned. The teacher¡¯s voice rang out, steady and final. "The candidate failed to hit the target. As such, he fails this portion of the examination." The crowd erupted once more, confusion and disbelief competing with mocking laughter and murmured criticism. The boy in the center of the arena stood frozen, his earlier confidence shattered as his eyes locked onto the unharmed dummy. Meanwhile, the boy perched atop the wall closed a notebook he had been jotting notes in with a quiet snap, a faint look of amusement flickering across his face. The examination continued, but his thoughts were already elsewhere, the scene below confirming everything he had come to expect. His own trial was only a week away, and he had no intention of making the same mistakes. Chapter 2: Forged in Fire (1) "Create a wand." The task is deceptively simple, a phrase so straightforward it borders on mundane. Yet it is a challenge of infinite complexity, a test that demands more than mere skill or knowledge. The way a wand is created shapes its capabilities¡ªaffecting everything from its magical output to its precision, control, and even its resilience. For generations, this deceptively simple directive has stood as Aetherion Academy¡¯s entrance exam, a gateway to a world of boundless possibility for those daring enough to accept its challenge. Two months ago, Elias had received his acceptance letter to Aetherion Academy. It was written in flowing, elegant script, accompanied by the task that would mark the beginning of his journey. "Create a wand. Present your creation at the entrance ceremony." He had grinned at the simplicity of the task. A wand¡ªwhat could be easier for someone like him, a thinker who thrived on the unconventional? But his grin had faded quickly as reality set in. Elias had only ever known one element of magic. For nearly all of his 15 years, his life revolved around fire. He loved flames, not just as a tool but as an art form. Every waking moment was spent experimenting with them, shaping them into intricate patterns, learning how to intensify their heat, or even manipulating their colors to match his moods. Fire was his world. While other kids his age played with water, earth, or air¡ªand the prodigies among them toyed with the very fabric of space itself¡ªElias remained steadfast in his singular obsession. He didn¡¯t just want to be good with fire. He wanted to be the best pyromancer who had ever lived. And that singular goal was now the problem. How was he supposed to create a wand when all he could do was manipulate flames? Sure, he was leaps and bounds better than most with fire, but fire was a terrible material to craft with. It consumed. It destroyed. It lacked permanence. Elias sat cross-legged on the floor of his workshop, staring at a scorched chunk of wood that had once been his latest attempt. He sighed, running a hand through his ash-dusted hair. ¡°This is impossible,¡± he muttered, though deep down, he didn¡¯t believe it. Impossible wasn¡¯t a word he accepted easily. The embers in his heart burned brighter as he refused to give up. Elias thumbed through the notebook he had been keeping for the past few weeks. Its pages were packed with scrawled notes, diagrams, and half-formed theories. He had been meticulously documenting everything he could glean from watching other candidates¡¯ examinations, hoping to spark some inspiration. But even with all this knowledge, no solution presented itself. With a frustrated groan, he tossed the notebook aside and let his body sprawl across the floor, arms and legs spread out like a defeated starfish. ¡°This is hopeless,¡± he muttered, glaring at the ceiling. Orange flames flickered faintly from his body, matching the annoyed rhythm of his sighs. A faint whistle cut through the air, and before Elias could react, a kernel of popcorn landed in his open mouth. It popped into a fluffy piece of popcorn the moment it touched his lips, dissolving the complaint he was about to make.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Nice shot,¡± mumbled Elias, chewing absently. From the corner of the room, a soft laugh sounded. His friend sat cross-legged on a bench, lazily flicking kernels into the air. Each one arced toward Elias with precision, igniting and popping mid-flight as it passed through the small flames radiating from his annoyed form. ¡°Honestly,¡± his friend said with a grin, ¡°if you¡¯re just going to lay there like a campfire, I might as well make use of it.¡± Elias groaned, brushing ash from his sleeve but making no move to sit up. ¡°Do you ever not find my misery entertaining?¡± ¡°Nope,¡± his friend replied, chucking another kernel. It popped perfectly into Elias¡¯s mouth, earning a muffled grunt of acknowledgment. ¡°You¡¯re a walking popcorn machine right now. I¡¯m living the dream.¡± Elias sighed, letting another kernel land and pop before munching on it. ¡°Glad one of us is having fun.¡± Elias groaned, letting his head fall back against the floor. ¡°I¡¯m doomed. One week left, and I¡¯ve got nothing. Nothing! I can¡¯t even come up with a basic design, let alone figure out how to make it work. How am I supposed to present anything at the ceremony?¡± His friend leaned back on the bench, flicking another kernel in his direction. It popped just before it hit Elias¡¯s nose, landing softly on his cheek. ¡°Relax, you¡¯ve still got time.¡± ¡°Time?¡± Elias shot back, swatting the popcorn away. ¡°Do you know what happens if I show up empty-handed? I¡¯ll be the laughingstock of Aetherion before I even step through the gates!¡± His friend smirked, rolling another kernel between his fingers. ¡°You¡¯re already a laughingstock, Elias. Nothing new there.¡± ¡°Ha-ha, very funny.¡± Elias sat up suddenly, glaring at him. ¡°At least tell me how your wand is coming along. I bet you¡¯ve got some ridiculously over-the-top creation already finished, don¡¯t you?¡± He gestured broadly at the far corner of the room, where an array of fine sand was artfully arranged into elaborate, swirling shapes. ¡°I mean, look at that! What is this? Some grand magical display you¡¯re working on in secret? Are you going to conjure an entire wand out of sand just to show me up?¡± His friend smirked, lazily flicking another kernel into the air. ¡°Maybe. Or maybe I just like sand art. Keeps you guessing, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Elias narrowed his eyes. ¡°Oh, come on. You¡¯ve got to at least give me a hint.¡± ¡°Nope. It¡¯s a surprise,¡± his friend said with a grin. ¡°A surprise?¡± Elias groaned again, collapsing back onto the floor. ¡°Great. Of course. Everyone else has these brilliant ideas, and I¡¯m stuck staring at an empty notebook like some kind of failure.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not a failure,¡± his friend said, his tone unusually sincere. ¡°You¡¯re just overthinking it. You always do.¡± Elias opened one eye, frowning. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± His friend leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. ¡°You¡¯re so focused on all the things you can¡¯t do, you¡¯re ignoring what you¡¯re great at. You¡¯re the best pyromancer I know. Why not lean into that?¡± Elias blinked. ¡°What, you think I should just¡­ forge my wand out of fire or something? That¡¯s impossible.¡± ¡°Is it, though?¡± His friend grinned mischievously, tossing another kernel that popped and landed squarely in Elias¡¯s mouth. ¡°I mean, if anyone could do it, it¡¯s you. You¡¯ve spent your whole life proving fire can do things no one thought it could.¡± Elias chewed slowly, his mind racing despite his skepticism. ¡°You¡¯re serious?¡± ¡°Dead serious,¡± his friend replied, standing and stretching lazily. ¡°What¡¯s the worst that could happen? You fail spectacularly? At least it¡¯ll be memorable.¡± Elias scowled. ¡°Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.¡± His friend laughed, heading for the door. ¡°Hey, just think about it. You¡¯ve got a week, right? No pressure.¡± As the door closed behind him, Elias sat up, staring at the small flicker of flame hovering above his hand. ¡°A wand forged from fire,¡± he muttered. ¡°That¡¯s insane.¡± But even as he dismissed the idea, the embers of curiosity had already begun to burn. Chapter 3: Forged in Fire (2) Theirs was a small settlement on the outskirts of Illumnis, a quiet place where the hum of magical innovation from the great city barely reached. It was a place of simplicity, where most people lived their lives tending to crops or maintaining the trade routes that connected them to the greater world. Few children born there ever left, content to follow in the footsteps of their parents. But Elias was different. Even as a boy, Elias had always been fascinated by the distant glow of Illumnis on the horizon, the city lights flickering like an invitation. He¡¯d ask the traders who passed through about their lives, peppering them with questions about the magical academies and the towering spires of the city. His relentless curiosity and burning ambition had always set him apart, earning him equal parts admiration and exasperation from the townsfolk. Kiran had grown up watching Elias chase his dreams with a fervor he couldn¡¯t always understand. While Kiran was content to pass the time honing his own quiet talents¡ªperfecting his control over sand in order to one day aid in his family''s small business¡ªElias had thrown himself headfirst into the study of fire, his passion burning as brightly as the element he loved. But with that passion came chaos. Elias¡¯s experiments with fire often spiraled out of control, leaving a trail of singed crops, charred fences, and panicked villagers in their wake. Once, he¡¯d decided to test how large he could make a single flame. The result was a towering inferno in the middle of a wheat field that had the entire settlement scrambling to contain it. ¡°Elias!¡± Kiran had yelled, running toward the blaze. ¡°What did you do now?¡± ¡°I was testing something!¡± Elias shouted back, his face a mix of panic and defiance. ¡°It got a little¡­bigger than I expected!¡± Kiran rolled his eyes and raised his hands, summoning a wave of sand that swept over the fire, smothering it with practiced ease. The flames hissed and sputtered, leaving behind a smoking patch of blackened earth and a lot of angry villagers. ¡°¡®A little bigger¡¯? You nearly roasted the entire crop!¡± Kiran scolded, brushing soot from his sleeves.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Elias sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°I had it under control.¡± ¡°Under control?¡± Kiran scoffed, gesturing to the still-smoking field. ¡°If I wasn¡¯t here, the entire settlement would¡¯ve gone up in flames!¡± The village elder arrived moments later, his face red with anger. ¡°Elias! This is the third time this month! If you can¡¯t learn to control yourself, I¡¯ll ban you from practicing anywhere near the fields!¡± Kiran crossed his arms, glaring at his friend. ¡°He has a point, you know.¡± Elias just grinned, unabashed. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯ve got you, Kiran. You¡¯re my safety net.¡± Kiran sighed, kicking at the scorched earth. ¡°One of these days, I¡¯m just going to let it burn.¡± ¡°Ha!¡± Elias laughed, patting Kiran on the back. ¡°You¡¯re too soft for that.¡± Despite the trouble Elias caused, the villagers begrudgingly tolerated him. ¡°That boy¡¯s going to leave this place someday,¡± the elder often muttered. ¡°And when he does, we¡¯ll finally get some peace.¡± Kiran, however, couldn¡¯t help but admire Elias¡¯s relentless drive, even as he spent half his time putting out fires¡ªsometimes literally. ¡°You know, most people around here would be happy staying in the village,¡± Kiran had said once, watching Elias conjure flames in their shared backyard. ¡°Why can¡¯t you just be like that?¡± Elias didn¡¯t look up, his hands shaping a fiery orb with practiced ease. ¡°Because being happy isn¡¯t enough. I don¡¯t want to just be good. I want to be the best. And the best don¡¯t stay in the outskirts.¡± Kiran had only smiled, tossing a handful of sand into the air and letting it fall in shimmering patterns. ¡°Maybe. But you might burn yourself out before you even get there.¡± Now, years later, Kiran stood frozen, his eyes wide with horror as Elias¡¯s workshop was completely engulfed in flames. The inferno roared, licking hungrily at the wooden beams and sending thick plumes of smoke into the air. ¡°Kiran!¡± Elias¡¯s voice rang out from somewhere within the chaos, muffled but unmistakably alive. ¡°Elias, what did you do this time?!¡± Kiran shouted, already raising his hands to summon a wave of sand. Before Kiran could release his magic on the blazing workshop, the fire abruptly extinguished itself, collapsing into a smoldering cloud of embers and smoke. Kiran hesitated, his outstretched hands frozen mid-spell, as a figure emerged from the charred remains. Elias stepped out of the wreckage, his clothes singed and his face streaked with soot and blood, but his expression radiated triumph. In his hand, he held something glowing faintly, its surface shimmering with heat. ¡°I did it,¡± Elias said, his voice uneven but filled with satisfaction. His bloodied lips curled into a smile, defiant and proud despite his battered appearance. Kiran stared at him, incredulous. ¡°You did it? Elias, you just burned down your entire workshop!¡± Elias looked back at the blackened ruins and shrugged. ¡°Small price to pay for greatness.¡± Chapter 4: Forged in Fire (3) The door creaked shut behind Kiran, leaving Elias alone with his flickering thoughts and the faint glow of embers hovering above his hand. The idea his friend had planted¡ªcrafting a wand from pure fire¡ªgnawed at him. It was absurd. Impossible. But wasn¡¯t that exactly the kind of challenge he had spent his entire life chasing? Elias sat up, his eyes fixed on the flame dancing across his palm. He¡¯d spent years mastering fire, bending it to his will, shaping it into countless forms. Yet, the idea of creating something permanent, something tangible and functional, was entirely new. Fire was fleeting by nature. To make it more than that would be to rewrite the rules of magic itself. He set his notebook on the workbench, flipping past half-baked theories and failed experiments. If he was going to do this, he¡¯d have to start from scratch. He needed to forge something not just with fire but from fire. Elias¡¯s mind raced back through his years of experiments, searching for inspiration. Elias began by experimenting with fire threads, an old technique he¡¯d mastered years ago. He could still remember the first time he¡¯d stumbled upon the idea. He had been twelve, sitting in the backyard late at night, with only the stars and a sputtering candle to keep him company. Frustrated with his inability to control larger flames, he had focused all his attention on the tiny flicker of light before him. ¡°What if fire didn¡¯t have to roar?¡± he had muttered to himself. ¡°What if it could whisper instead?¡± Curious, he reached out with his mana, coaxing the flame to stretch and twist like a strand of string. It resisted at first, wild and erratic, but Elias didn¡¯t give up. He concentrated harder, feeding the flame just enough energy to keep it alive without overwhelming it. Slowly, painstakingly, the flickering light began to take shape. When it finally worked, Elias sat back in awe. A delicate thread of fire hovered between his fingers, glowing faintly in the dark. It wasn¡¯t hot enough to burn, nor bright enough to light the yard, but it was stable. For the first time, he had made fire behave like something tangible, something malleable. The thread had lasted only a few seconds before disintegrating into sparks, but those few seconds had changed everything. From that moment on, Elias knew that fire didn¡¯t have to be destructive. It could be shaped, controlled, and molded into something entirely new. He summoned the thinnest strands of flame he could manage, weaving them into intricate patterns in the air. It felt like stitching with light itself. But no matter how tightly he wove the threads, they unraveled the moment he released them, dissipating into sparks.
¡°What do you think?¡± Elias had said, holding the crystal aloft with a wide grin. Kiran had stared at it warily, the faint hum of energy making the hairs on his arms stand up. ¡°I think you¡¯re holding a bomb.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a bomb! It¡¯s art!¡± Elias had declared, tossing the crystal in the air like a ball. The crystal, of course, shattered mid-arc, unleashing a burst of flames that scorched the side of his workshop and set a fence ablaze. Kiran scrambled to summon a wave of sand, dousing the fire before it could spread. ¡°Art, huh?¡± Kiran had muttered, glaring at Elias. Elias, brushing ash off his sleeves, had only shrugged. ¡°All masterpieces come with a little risk.¡± The incident earned him a lecture from the village elder and a week-long ban on practicing near the settlement. But even as he helped Kiran rebuild the fence, Elias couldn¡¯t stop thinking about the potential of solid fire. He focused his Well into a single ember, feeding it carefully with mana while trying to shape it into a core. For a brief moment, it held¡ªglowing like molten glass¡ªbefore shattering into ash.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Elias clenched his fists, frustration boiling inside him. ¡°Why won¡¯t you hold?¡± he shouted, the flames around him flaring in response. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He couldn¡¯t afford to lose control. Not now. Days blurred into nights as Elias pushed himself to his limits. His hands were blistered from the heat, his Well dangerously close to depletion, but he refused to stop. Failure after failure piled up around him¡ªburnt fragments of wood, pools of melted metal, and trails of scorched earth littered the workshop. It was during one of these late nights, when exhaustion weighed heavy on his body, that inspiration struck. Elias had been trying to force fire into shapes it wasn¡¯t meant to hold. What if, instead of confining it, he worked with its natural flow? He summoned a small flame and let it dance freely in his palm. It flickered and swayed, alive with an energy that seemed almost eager to move. For a moment, Elias simply watched it, his mind quiet for the first time in hours. Slowly, he extended his mana, not to contain the flame but to guide it. He coaxed it into a gentle spiral, letting it flow naturally rather than forcing it into place. The flame¡¯s movement grew smoother, tighter, as though responding to his intent. It swirled around his hand in a mesmerizing pattern, its heat radiating softly but steadily. Instead of trying to keep the flame still¡ªan instinct he¡¯d relied on in the past¡ªElias allowed it to move, tracing an orbit around an invisible core in his palm. He could feel the flame feeding itself, drawing on the precise pulses of mana he infused into its motion. With each revolution, it seemed to grow more stable, more controlled, as though it had found its rhythm. The spiral began to take on a life of its own, the edges sharpening into defined lines of light that shimmered like molten gold. Elias¡¯s breath caught as he realized what he¡¯d done. The flame wasn¡¯t just burning¡ªit was self-sustaining, a perfect balance of motion and energy. His heart pounded as he held the spiral aloft, its soft glow illuminating his face. It wasn¡¯t a wand, not yet, but it was more than fire. It was a breakthrough. Over the next few days, Elias refined the technique, layering flame upon flame into a complex lattice. The process required perfect control; one wrong move could send the entire structure unraveling. His first few attempts ended in fiery explosions that left his workshop covered in soot, forcing him to spend hours cleaning up. But with each failure, he learned something new. He discovered that by introducing a ¡°pulse¡± of mana at regular intervals, he could keep the structure stable. Each pulse acted like a heartbeat, infusing the flame with just enough energy to sustain itself without spiraling out of control. It wasn¡¯t easy¡ªhe had to time the pulses perfectly, too much or too little causing the spiral to flare wildly or collapse into ash. The next challenge was managing the flame¡¯s layers. Fire wasn¡¯t a single entity; it was a combination of heat, light, and motion. Elias realized that by varying the intensity of each layer, he could distribute the energy more evenly, creating a balance that prevented the core from overheating. The outer layers burned cooler, acting like a protective shell, while the inner layers pulsed with intense heat to maintain the structure¡¯s integrity. It was like building a house of cards, but with fire. Every layer had to support the one above it without putting too much strain on the base. Elias worked tirelessly, stacking and aligning each layer of flame with painstaking precision. One misstep, one uneven pulse, and the entire thing would collapse in a burst of smoke and embers. There were countless failures. His first attempts fizzled out before they could take shape, while others exploded violently, leaving scorch marks across the workshop walls. But with each attempt, Elias grew more attuned to the rhythm of the flame. He learned to sense its tipping points, to adjust his mana flow instinctively before it could falter. Finally, after countless hours of trial and error, Elias stepped back and looked at his creation. The wand hovered in the air before him, a spiraling construct of flame that pulsed with a steady, rhythmic glow. Its layers were perfectly balanced, the outer edges cool and protective while the core burned with a vibrant intensity. It was alive, dynamic, yet stable in a way fire was never meant to be¡ªa testament to his relentless determination. Elias let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding, his face breaking into a soot-streaked grin. ¡°This¡­ this is it,¡± he whispered, his voice filled with equal parts triumph and disbelief. For the first time, fire was no longer fleeting. It was his¡ªalive, vibrant, and undeniably his. Then he smelled the smoke. Elias blinked, finally tearing his eyes away from his creation to see thick black clouds curling along the ceiling beams. Flames had spread wildly across his workshop, licking at the shelves and scattering embers to the floor. His stomach sank. ¡°Elias!¡± Kiran¡¯s voice shouted from outside, urgent and sharp. ¡°What did you do this time?!¡± Snapping into action, Elias grabbed the wand, its spiral of flame flaring briefly in his hand. He focused his mana, summoning the embers and heat around him, pulling the raging flames into the core of his creation. The fire recoiled like a living thing but obeyed, collapsing into the spiraling construct. The air around him cooled, the room dimming as the last traces of fire were consumed by the wand¡¯s glow. Elias stepped outside into the crisp night air, coughing as the lingering smoke followed him. Kiran stood just outside, staring wide-eyed at the still-smoldering edges of the workshop. Elias raised the wand, its flame pulsing faintly in his hand. ¡°I did it,¡± he said, his voice hoarse but triumphant, a grin splitting his soot-streaked face. Chapter 5: Calm Before the Storm Headmaster Caelus Darion of Aetherion Academy was not a man easily impressed, but few things delighted him more than the day before the entrance ceremony. In his office, nestled in the heart of the academy¡¯s sprawling main spire, he stood by a small kitchenette brewing his morning coffee. The rich aroma filled the room, blending with the faint hum of magical wards that protected every corner of the ancient structure. Caelus, with his silver-streaked hair and sharp, penetrating eyes, was a figure of quiet authority. Renowned for the near-legendary spells he had crafted in his youth, he had long since left the frontlines of magical innovation for the equally demanding role of shaping the future¡¯s brightest minds. His office, though perpetually cluttered with paperwork and arcane artifacts, offered a commanding view of the academy grounds¡ªa view he rarely had time to enjoy. Today, however, was a day he cherished. The day before the entrance ceremony was typically when prospective students tested their newly created wands, often with results that ranged from spectacular to disastrous. It was raw magic at its most unrefined, and Caelus relished the chance to witness the potential of the next generation. As the kettle began to whistle, he carefully poured the boiling water over the grounds, relishing the quiet precision of the task. Letting his mind wander, he extended his mana outward, weaving it through the streets and far into the city beyond. The faint hum of magical energy came to him as he tuned into the scattered young talents, each hard at work perfecting their craft. In a quiet forest on the city¡¯s edge, a young girl moved gracefully through the trees, her wand faintly glowing as animals gathered around her. Birds flitted to her shoulders, and small woodland creatures padded at her feet, seemingly enthralled by her presence. Caelus smiled into his cup. ¡°Interesting. A nature specialist, perhaps? Haven¡¯t seen one in years.¡± He watched as the girl coaxed a bird to perch on her outstretched wand, her movements fluid and precise. ¡°Tuning oneself to nature¡¯s rhythm¡ªan art most overlook in favor of raw power. Subtle, yet profound.¡± Returning to his desk¡ªan eternal battlefield of paperwork¡ªhe grabbed his chair and carried it toward the large window that overlooked the academy grounds. The sunlight streaming through the glass painted golden streaks across the polished floor. As he set the chair down, he carelessly misjudged the angle. The chair wobbled, and before he could react, he tripped over one of its legs. His coffee flew from his hand, arcing through the air in a tragic display before splattering across the floor. Caelus stumbled to his feet with a groan, glaring at the mess. ¡°Brilliant,¡± he muttered, fetching a cloth to clean the spill. A moment passed and he had found himself back at his desk, grabbing from behind it the same chair, and carrying it toward the window just as he had done once before.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. As he set the chair down, he paused, recalling previously when he¡¯d carelessly tripped and spilled his coffee. A quiet chuckle escaped him as he adjusted the chair more carefully this time, settling into it with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll have to thank that time-wielder someday,¡± he mused, savoring the warm brew. From his perch by the window, he continued to observe the flurry of activity across the city. A boy on a rooftop conjured jagged shards of ice, launching them with pinpoint accuracy at floating targets. Nearby, a pair of girls sparred in a plaza, one commanding swirling torrents of water while the other deftly countered with bursts of crackling lightning. In a quieter corner, a student stood amidst a circle of glowing sigils, summoning intricate, glowing constructs that flickered briefly before vanishing into wisps of light. He marveled at the sheer variety of talents¡ªsome wielding raw, elemental power, others crafting delicate illusions or bending the rules of reality itself. The hours slipped by as he watched, his heart swelling with anticipation for the year ahead. But just as he was about to withdraw his senses and return to his desk, something caught his attention. A glowing red light ascended high above the city, cutting through the evening sky like a burning ember. The headmaster frowned, his sharp eyes narrowing as the light hovered for a moment, suspended unnaturally, before descending back to the ground as quietly as it had risen. A prickle of unease crept up his spine. He leaned forward, setting his cup down as he focused intently on the area where the light had disappeared. The tranquil scene below seemed undisturbed, but the ominous feeling in his chest remained. He sighed, the weight of anticipation settling over him like a heavy cloak. Caelus knew then and there¡ªhis quiet morning had come to an abrupt end. And then, it happened. The ground trembled as a deafening explosion shattered the stillness. A column of fire erupted from the city¡¯s outskirts, tearing through the few closest buildings in its path and casting a hellish glow across the skyline. The headmaster shot to his feet, his coffee forgotten as the force of the blast rattled the very spire he stood in. Alarms began to sound across Illumnis, their piercing tones cutting through the rising chaos. Looking closer, Caelus focused his senses on the chaos near the explosion¡¯s epicenter. Among the smoldering debris, two boys stood out. One, sporting charred forging attire and a soot-streaked face, was doubled over in uncontrollable laughter, his shoulders shaking with manic glee. The other boy stood frozen, his jaw practically on the ground as he stared at the destruction before them. From the nearby village, an older man came sprinting toward the scene, his face red with a mix of fury and panic. Without hesitation, he delivered an impressively loud smack to the back of the laughing boy¡¯s head. The sound echoed even in the distant headmaster¡¯s ears. The mad boy winced, curling slightly in fear, but the triumphant grin never left his face. He sidestepped behind the still-gaping boy, using him as a halfhearted shield. ¡°Come on, Kiran, save me!¡± he joked, peeking out from behind his friend with a smug look that bordered on daring. Caelus sighed, rubbing his temples as he leaned back from the window. His gaze shifted to the cluttered desk behind him, the stacks of paperwork suddenly feeling heavier. ¡°It¡¯s going to be a long year,¡± he muttered, already preparing himself for the inevitable chaos as he turned toward the never-ending pile of responsibilities awaiting him. Chapter 6: The Road to Aetherion Academy Sunlight streamed through the thin curtains of the modest hotel room, casting golden streaks across the floor. Elias sprang out of bed, a wide grin plastered on his face as he bounded across the room with uncontainable energy. Today was the day. He grabbed his wand, the fiery construct glowing faintly as it rested on the bedside table. Holding it aloft, he gave it a quick spin, marveling at the way the flames danced within its spiraling core. Every time he looked at it, a rush of pride surged through him. It wasn¡¯t just a wand¡ªit was his proof that he was ready to take on the world. His eyes flicked briefly to the charred burn marks left behind on the table¡¯s surface. He winced, quickly averting his gaze. ¡°Nope. Not thinking about it,¡± he muttered under his breath, focusing intently on the wand in his hand as if it might distract him from the evidence of his carelessness. Yesterday felt like a blur. After the explosion that finally earned him an official banishment from the village, Elias had spent his final moments there saying goodbye to Kiran. ¡°I¡¯ll see you at the academy,¡± Kiran had said, his tone a mix of exasperation and genuine fondness. ¡°Try not to burn the place down before I get there.¡± ¡°No promises,¡± Elias had replied with a grin, slinging his pack over his shoulder. Now, standing in the hotel room with the academy only a few hours away, Elias felt a bubbling anticipation that bordered on impatience. He double-checked his belongings¡ªclothes, wand, notebook¡ªall neatly packed and ready to go. It wasn¡¯t much, but then again, Elias had never owned much to begin with. And after his workshop burned down, what little he had was now either ash or a distant memory. Still, he patted the bag with a sense of satisfaction. What mattered most was packed and ready¡ªhis wand, his notes, and his determination. He glanced down at his attire: his trusty forging uniform, hastily cleaned in the hotel bathroom and left to dry overnight. Though a little stiff and still faintly smelling of soap, it was comfortable enough. The dark, charred edges that refused to wash out gave it a worn-in look he almost appreciated. Almost. As he paced the room, his thoughts kept returning to the flames. Would they hold steady when it mattered? He¡¯d tested his wand all of once, and the entrance ceremony was looming closer¡ªthere would be eyes everywhere, and no room for failure. Fire had always been his greatest strength, but it was unpredictable, relentless. Could he control it when the stakes were so high? Elias smirked at the thought. ¡°I guess I''ll find out soon enough,¡± he muttered to himself. Elsewhere, a young girl sat slumped against the stump of an ancient tree, its gnarled remains worn smooth by time. She wore a simple tunic that hung loosely around her slender frame, its earthy tones blending seamlessly with the forest around her. Twigs branched haphazardly from her tied-back hair, as if she were part of the woodland itself, a natural extension of its quiet, enduring presence. The sunlight dappled through the forest canopy, casting a soft glow over her resting figure. Around her lay three massive brown bears, their powerful frames curled protectively at her feet. Each bear seemed unnaturally calm, their breathing slow and even as though mirroring the girl¡¯s tranquility.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. But the peace didn¡¯t last. One of the bears suddenly perked up, its ears twitching at a faint sound or scent carried on the forest breeze. The creature rose to its full height, its keen eyes fixed on a small, unnervingly dark recess between two trees. Moving cautiously, the bear stepped closer, its heavy paws making almost no sound on the mossy ground. The closer it came to the patch of shadow, the more its movements slowed, as if caught in an invisible pull. It lowered its head, sniffing at the air with sharp, deliberate breaths. The darkness seemed to ripple in response, tendrils of shadow curling outward like fingers reaching for the curious bear. The girl stirred. Her eyes opened, and for a moment, she simply observed the scene, her expression calm but alert. Slowly, she raised one hand, her fingers outstretched toward the recess. The darkness shivered, recoiling as if struck by an unseen force. With a subtle motion of her hand, the patch of shadow folded in on itself, vanishing entirely. Freed from its trance, the bear blinked and shook its head, stepping back as if waking from a dream. The girl¡¯s voice was soft but firm as she called out to it. ¡°Come back.¡± The bear hesitated only a moment before turning and lumbering back to her side. It nuzzled into her arms, a low, rumbling sound of contentment escaping its throat. She smiled faintly, stroking its fur as the other two bears shifted closer, their protective circle around her tightening once more. Out of the shadows behind the girl emerged a figure, her steps deliberate and silent, as if the forest itself bent to accommodate her presence. Her appearance was strikingly incongruous with the wilderness around her. Her clothes, a neatly pressed blouse and dark trousers, were spotless, free of even a trace of dirt or stray foliage. Her hair, a sleek cascade of jet-black, gleamed in the dappled sunlight, untouched by the forest''s grasp. Even her boots, polished to a near mirror finish, seemed to defy the mud and leaves underfoot. She carried an air of precision and control, a sharp contrast to the untamed beauty of the forest. ¡°Sylra, it¡¯s time to go,¡± the woman said, her voice calm yet firm, carrying an undertone of urgency. The girl¡¯s striking eyes, shimmering with an almost otherworldly glow, met the woman¡¯s steady gaze. For a moment, the forest seemed to hold its breath as the two shared a silent understanding. Sylra nodded once, her slender frame rising effortlessly from the tree stump as the bears stirred, their protective forms shifting as though sensing the change. Soon, the two figures disappeared into the dense foliage, their movements so seamless it was as if the forest itself had swallowed them whole. The air that had held a strange stillness moments before began to stir again. Leaves rustled softly, birds resumed their songs, and the quiet hum of life returned to the woods, as though the presence of the pair had been nothing more than a fleeting dream. And still, far off on the beaches of another continent entirely, a young boy stood alone, staring at the endless ocean stretched out before him. His luggage sat at his feet, and a flicker of regret crossed his face as he adjusted its straps.
¡°I really should¡¯ve let them take me,¡± he muttered to himself, his voice lost to the wind and crashing waves. With a deep breath, he raised his hand, and the world around him fell silent. The waves froze mid-crash, their peaks suspended like jagged glass. The air itself seemed to hold its breath, locked in the grip of his time-freezing magic. The boy hoisted his luggage onto his back and stepped out onto the motionless water, his feet pressing lightly against the unmoving surface. He moved carefully, each step deliberate, knowing he couldn¡¯t maintain this for long. As the strain began to set in, he stopped, pulling an inflatable life raft from his pack. With a practiced motion, he unfroze time just long enough to let the raft land in the water before climbing aboard. The waves rocked gently as he let himself rest, preparing for the next stretch of his journey. The quiet determination in his eyes never wavering. Chapter 7: Entrance Examinations (1) Aetherion Academy stands as a beacon of unity and knowledge, its towering spires casting long shadows over the bustling city of Illumnis. But its beginnings were far humbler¡ªrooted in desperation and the unwavering resolve of those who refused to let magic be extinguished from the world. Centuries ago, when a general fear of the unknown swept through kingdoms like a wildfire, those who were labeled as wizards found themselves hunted, their art branded as dangerous and unnatural. Some fled to the wilderness, others hid among common folk, and many abandoned their craft altogether. It was in this time of persecution that a small group of mages, led by the visionary Arvian Aetherion, sought to create a sanctuary. The academy was born in secrecy, nestled in an unassuming valley where magic flowed freely. Wizards from all walks of life gathered¡ªnot to hide, but to share their knowledge, to build a foundation of understanding and progress. Over time, as the academy grew, its influence spread, and it became a symbol of magic¡¯s potential to uplift and inspire rather than destroy. Aetherion himself laid the founding principles of the academy:
  • Knowledge is our greatest weapon: Magic without understanding leads only to chaos.
  • Unity in diversity: Every spell, no matter how small, adds to the greater tapestry of magical understanding.
  • Responsibility above all: Power must always be tempered with wisdom.
As the persecution waned and the academy came into the public eye, it evolved into the central hub for magical education, attracting the brightest minds and boldest talents from every corner of the world. Today, Aetherion Academy stands as more than a school¡ªit stands as a legacy. With its growth, Aetherion Academy became steeped in tradition, each one a reflection of the values that had guided its founders. Among the most revered of these traditions was the Entrance Examination, an event as much a test of potential as a celebration of magic itself. Held on the eve of the academic year, the examinations were a spectacle that drew crowds from all over Illumnis. Families, merchants, and even seasoned wizards came to witness the aspiring students¡¯ first steps into the magical world. For many, it was more than just a test¡ªit was a rite of passage, a declaration of one¡¯s readiness to embrace the discipline and artistry of magic. At the heart of this tradition was the Trial Gate, an ancient artifact believed to be created by Arvian Aetherion himself. Standing tall at the entrance of the academy, the gate shimmered with an ethereal glow, its surface shifting like liquid silver. Each student who passed through it carried with them their crafted wand¡ªa culmination of their skill, creativity, and determination. The gate judged each candidate, assigning them to one of four tiers and their respective classes, a system designed to foster growth at every level of magical expertise.
  • Zenith Tier: Reserved for the most exceptional candidates, these students demonstrate mastery far beyond their years. They are not only prodigies but innovators, capable of redefining the boundaries of magic. Zenith students are groomed to become leaders and pioneers, with access to the academy¡¯s most advanced resources and mentors.
  • Ascendant Tier: Highly skilled and promising students who show significant talent and ambition. Though not as groundbreaking as those in Zenith, Ascendants are regarded as future experts in their fields. They receive rigorous training and opportunities to push their craft to new heights.
  • Foundation Tier: The backbone of the academy, this tier encompasses the majority of students. Foundation members show potential and competence but still require refinement and focus to excel. Their training balances fundamentals with exploration, encouraging steady growth.
  • Ember Tier: Assigned to those whose magical abilities are underdeveloped or inconsistent, this tier is often viewed as a starting point. Ember students receive foundational instruction designed to build confidence and basic skill. While some rise to higher tiers with hard work, others may find their strengths in subtler applications of magic.
Each tier was further divided into three classes, allowing for even finer distinctions based on skill, creativity, and overall aptitude. This structure ensured that every student could receive instruction tailored to their unique potential and challenges.
  • Class 1: The top class within each tier, reserved for students who display exceptional mastery and creativity relative to their tier. These students are often seen as the leaders of their group, entrusted with more challenging assignments and opportunities to collaborate directly with their instructors.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
  • Class 2: The middle class, consisting of students with solid proficiency and room to grow. They are capable and consistent but lack the polish or brilliance of Class 1. Their training emphasizes refining technique and pushing boundaries to prepare them for potential advancement.
  • Class 3: The foundational class within each tier, made up of students who are still finding their footing. These students often require more focused guidance and support to overcome specific weaknesses or develop their potential fully.
This system ensures that even within a tier, students would have the opportunity to progress, fostering a healthy sense of competition and collaboration. For some, it was a chance to shine among their peers, while for others, it was a ladder they could climb with hard work and determination. The process was as much an assessment of character as it was of raw talent, and no two students¡¯ journeys through the gate were ever the same. Now, as the golden light of dawn bathed the academy grounds, the fervor was palpable. Students gathered in clusters, their chatter a mix of nervous anticipation and excitement. Some clutched their wands tightly, their knuckles white, while others exuded quiet confidence, their eyes fixed on the Trial Gate. Families lined the edges of the courtyard, whispering words of encouragement or gazing in awe at the spectacle unfolding before them. The spires of Aetherion Academy stood watch, as they had for centuries, a silent reminder of the legacy each student was about to become a part of. Elias stood near the back of the group as the students formed a somewhat orderly line in front of the Trial Gate. The atmosphere buzzed with nervous energy, snippets of conversation blending with the distant hum of the gate¡¯s shimmering surface. Looking around, Elias noted the sheer variety of students¡ªsome tall and confident, others fidgeting with their wands or smoothing their robes. His gaze swept across the crowd until it landed on someone who stood out. A beautiful girl with long black hair was drawing the attention of many of the boys around her, their whispers barely concealed as they stole glances in her direction. Her stern, focused demeanor, however, made it clear that she was oblivious¡ªor perhaps indifferent¡ªto the attention. Her sharp gaze remained fixed on the Trial Gate, her posture poised with a quiet confidence that added an air of unapproachability. But Elias wasn¡¯t admiring her beauty. His eyes locked on the slender, ethereal figure resting on her shoulder¡ªa spirit. ¡°A real spirit,¡± Elias gasped under his breath, his heart skipping a beat. He had read about spirits, their immense power, and their symbiotic relationship with certain wizards. They were rare, elusive beings, capable of enhancing magic in ways most could only dream of. But Elias¡¯s fascination came with a bitter edge. Fire spirits¡ªif you could even find one¡ªlived in places far beyond his reach: scalding deserts, volcanic craters, or even the molten cores of the planet. His knowledge of spirits began and ended with the cold fact that he could never have one. Still, seeing one in person was exhilarating. The spirit on the girl¡¯s shoulder seemed almost liquid in its movements, its form shimmering faintly as it leaned close to her ear. What kind of power must she possess to bond with something like that? Elias swallowed his envy, focusing instead on the gate ahead. Elsewhere, two fishermen were hauling back their latest catch, their nets heavy with the day¡¯s work. The pair moved quickly, eager to finish up in time to catch the broadcast of Aetherion Academy¡¯s Examinations. ¡°Come on, almost there,¡± one of them grunted, hoisting a large sack of freshly caught fish over his shoulder. His partner nodded in agreement, the thought of settling in for the evening with the broadcast driving them forward. But just as they reached the dock, the first man paused abruptly, his grip slipping as the heavy sack tumbled to the ground with a wet thud. ¡°Hey! What¡¯s the deal?¡± his partner barked, rushing to salvage the spilled catch. The man didn¡¯t respond right away. His brow furrowed as he stared out toward the horizon, his gaze unnervingly focused. ¡°There¡¯s¡­ something out there,¡± he said finally, his voice quieter than usual. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± ¡°A raft,¡± the man replied, pointing toward the distant expanse of water. ¡°Small. Barely noticeable unless you¡¯ve got eyes like mine.¡± He tapped the edge of his temple for emphasis, referencing the magical enhancements that sharpened his vision. His partner squinted into the distance but saw nothing but waves. ¡°You sure? Could just be driftwood.¡± ¡°No,¡± the man insisted, his tone firm. ¡°It¡¯s a raft. And there¡¯s someone on it.¡± The two fishermen exchanged a quick glance before abandoning the spilled sack of fish. Without a word, they climbed back into their boat, the magical engine humming softly to life as they steered toward the distant raft. The rhythmic churn of the enchanted propeller cut through the stillness of the water as the small craft closed the gap. As they approached, the raft came into full view¡ªa simple, inflatable vessel bobbing gently on the waves. Standing on it was a young boy, his hair slightly disheveled, holding a small pack. The boy turned to face them, his expression calm but curious. ¡°Excuse me,¡± he called out, his voice carrying over the water. ¡°would you please tell me the time?¡± The fishermen glanced at each other, bewildered. Scratching his head. ¡°Just shy of nine in the morning.¡± The boy froze, his eyes widening as a look of sheer panic spread across his face. Before either fisherman could ask a question, the boy vanished. No sound, no flash of light¡ªjust gone. The two men sat in stunned silence for a long moment, staring at the now-empty raft. Finally, one of them spoke. ¡°Did¡­ did that just happen?¡± His partner shook his head, still gripping the boat¡¯s controls. ¡°I don¡¯t know. But I¡¯m not sticking around to find out.¡± They turned the boat back toward the dock, the raft left adrift behind them. Once ashore, they silently went about their work, cleaning the spilled fish and packing them for market. But even as they finished the day¡¯s tasks, their minds kept returning to the boy¡ªthe boy who had simply asked for the time and disappeared without a trace. Chapter 8: Entrance Examinations (2) Above the crowd, a mesmerizing display of magic burst to life, painting the sky with brilliance. Two opposing energies emerged, one a radiant golden light that shimmered like molten sunlight, the other a deep, pulsating blue that rippled like the depths of an uncharted ocean. They arced gracefully across the heavens, leaving trails of sparkling stardust in their wake. The two forces moved in perfect synchrony, spiraling and weaving through the air like celestial ribbons engaged in an eternal dance. The golden light flared with warmth and vitality, its energy radiating outward in glowing waves, while the blue pulsed with a mysterious intensity, drawing the eye into its endless depths. As the crowd watched in awe, the energies met in an intricate spiral, their movements becoming faster and more complex. The sky seemed to vibrate with anticipation as the ribbons tightened into a glowing helix, spinning faster and faster until they became a single, blinding orb of light. With a soundless explosion, the orb shattered, releasing a cascade of shimmering energy that rained down upon the crowd. Sparkling motes of every color¡ªfiery reds, verdant greens, crystalline whites, and vibrant purples¡ªdrifted gently through the air like falling stars. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices rising to meet the splendor as the colors reflected in their wide, awe-struck eyes. The display lingered for a moment longer, the motes fading slowly like echoes in the wind, before the sky returned to its calm, sunlit blue. As the final motes of shimmering light faded into the clear morning sky, the crowd was left in a hushed, almost reverent silence. The sheer scale of the magical display had rendered even the most restless students momentarily still. Then, breaking through the quiet, a voice rang out¡ªa rich, hearty voice that seemed to resonate from everywhere and nowhere at once. ¡°Welcome, students and families, to Aetherion Academy¡¯s Entrance Ceremony!¡± The words were warm and commanding, carrying an unmistakable sense of pride and excitement. Heads turned instinctively, eyes darting through the crowd and across the academy grounds in search of the speaker. But no matter where they looked, there was no clear source. The voice continued, unperturbed by the murmurs rippling through the gathered audience. ¡°Today, we stand at the threshold of another chapter in Aetherion¡¯s proud history. For centuries, this academy has served as a sanctuary for learning, a crucible of talent, and a beacon of hope for wizards across the realms. And now, you¡ªour newest aspirants¡ªare here to continue that legacy.¡± A faint ripple of applause began among the families, growing in volume as the students exchanged glances, some nervous, others eager. ¡°Aetherion is more than a school,¡± the voice declared, its tone deepening with gravity. ¡°It is a place where magic becomes more than a tool¡ªit becomes art, discipline, and the very essence of what defines us. Here, you will be challenged. You will be tested. And, if you are willing, you will be transformed into something greater than you ever imagined.¡± The voice softened slightly, as if addressing each student individually. ¡°Some of you stand here confident in your abilities, ready to prove yourselves. Others carry doubt, uncertainty, perhaps even fear. Let me assure you¡ªall of you belong here. Every journey begins with a single step, and today, you take yours.¡± There was a pause, as though the speaker were giving the crowd a moment to absorb the weight of the words. Then, the voice brightened again, its energy lifting the atmosphere. ¡°As wizards, you are not simply inheritors of tradition; you are creators of destiny. The magic within you is not a gift, but a responsibility¡ªto innovate, to inspire, and to lead. Each spell you cast, each boundary you push, contributes to a tapestry of knowledge that grows stronger with every generation.¡± The voice carried on, its deep, commanding tones weaving a narrative of inspiration and promise. The words seemed endless, a steady stream of encouragement and gravitas that held the crowd in rapt attention. The crowd listened closely, their eyes fixed on every corner of the grounds, straining to locate the source of the voice. The rhythmic cadence of the speech lulled many into a trance-like state, their focus narrowing as the words seemed to resonate directly in their minds. Elias was no exception. He scanned the crowd from front to back, searching for the speaker with a furrowed brow. It was impossible to pinpoint where the voice was coming from¡ªit felt like it was everywhere at once, omnipresent and unrelenting. The longer he searched, the more his thoughts seemed to tangle, the words looping in his head like a melody he couldn¡¯t shake. Unnoticed by most, a girl standing not far from him shifted her posture. Her spirit, a shimmering, delicate figure perched on her shoulder, leaned close to her ear. Its translucent form pulsed faintly as it whispered something inaudible. The girl blinked once, her expression softening as she and her spirit slowly closed their eyes. The crowd around her continued to search for the voice, oblivious to her sudden stillness. The girl¡¯s calm, unmoving figure stood in stark contrast to the fervent energy of the students and families craning their necks, desperate to catch sight of the mysterious speaker. One of the students nearby noticed the girl¡¯s sudden stillness however. Amid the bustling, searching crowd, her calm, unmoving posture stood out like a lone flame in the darkness. The faint glow of her spirit caught his sharp eye, its presence whispering of knowledge beyond the crowd¡¯s grasp. ¡°A spirit that knows something,¡± he muttered under his breath, narrowing his gaze at the serene look on her face. ¡°Figures.¡± Without a moment¡¯s hesitation, Kiran flashed a quick glance toward Elias¡ªstill scanning the crowd with mounting frustration¡ªand allowed a small grin to tug at his lips. Turning back toward the girl, he took a deep breath and slowly closed his eyes, following her lead. The noise around Kiran ceased instantly, like a curtain had fallen between him and the world. The constant hum of magic, the murmur of the crowd, even the booming resonance of the announcer¡¯s voice¡ªall fell away, leaving an uncanny stillness. It wasn¡¯t just silence¡ªit was an absence, a vacuum where sound and sensation once existed. The warmth of the sun on his skin felt distant, muted, as though he had stepped into an entirely different space. The air seemed heavier, almost tangible, pressing softly against him but carrying no sound or movement. His heartbeat echoed faintly in his ears, the only reminder that time was still moving. It was as if he stood alone in an empty room, vast and undefined, the edges of the space obscured by an unseen boundary. The crowd that had been jostling around him moments ago felt impossibly far away, their presence reduced to faint impressions in his mind. Kiran hesitated, the surreal nature of the moment unsettling. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, half expecting to find himself in another world entirely, Instead, he found himself sitting in a chair in an unfamiliar office. The room was dimly lit, its only source of light coming from a window to his left. Papers were strewn across a desk in front of him, their edges curling as though they had been shuffled and forgotten countless times. One glance was enough to tell Kiran that whoever owned this desk didn¡¯t care much for organization. Faint sounds of a crowd drifted in from outside, muted but discernible, as if they were just on the other side of a thick wall. Curious, Kiran stood from the chair, his footsteps muffled against the worn wooden floor. He took a step toward the window, drawn by the faint noise. ¡°You know it¡¯s rude to ignore,¡± came a voice from behind him, smooth and almost amused. Kiran froze, his breath catching in his chest. Slowly, he turned around to face whomever it was that had spoken. It was a girl, her appearance striking yet understated. She wore a flowing, dark green cloak embroidered with intricate gold patterns that shimmered faintly, hinting at an enchantment woven into the fabric. Beneath it, a fitted tunic and trousers of deep black gave her a sleek, almost regal silhouette. A delicate necklace rested against her collarbone, its pendant glowing faintly, pulsing in time with an unseen rhythm.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Her face was framed by long, midnight-black hair that cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, its sheen catching the faint light in the room. Her eyes, sharp and piercing, seemed to hold an endless depth, as though she could see through every layer of pretense. There was a serene confidence about her, a quiet beauty that demanded attention without effort. Floating just above her shoulder was a spirit¡ªa slender, translucent figure that shimmered with ethereal light. It radiated an aura of quiet power, its presence lending an air of mystery to the girl. Kiran¡¯s breath hitched as recognition struck. He had seen her before¡ªstanding calmly in the courtyard, her presence unmoving amidst the chaotic crowd. The spirit above her shoulder confirmed it. ¡°It¡¯s also rude to stare,¡± the girl said, her voice calm but carrying an edge of amusement. Kiran blinked, startled out of his thoughts. He quickly straightened, realizing how obvious his reaction must have been. ¡°I¡ªuh,¡± he started, before clamping his mouth shut, unsure of how to respond. The girl tilted her head slightly, her piercing eyes locking onto his. The faint glow of her spirit seemed to pulse in rhythm with her gaze, amplifying the air of quiet authority she exuded. She was standing in a kitchenette in the corner of the room, holding a simple cup of water. The light caught the rim of the glass, casting a faint reflection onto the counter. She took a small sip before starting up again. ¡°Anyway, do you happen to know where we are?¡± she asked, her tone casual, as if this were an everyday occurrence. ¡°Huh? Oh¡­ no, I don¡¯t,¡± Kiran stammered, scrambling for an answer. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around the unfamiliar office. ¡°I just¡­ woke up here. Same as you, I guess?¡± The girl raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by his fumbling. She placed the cup down with a soft clink and leaned against the counter, her expression thoughtful. The spirit floating above her shoulder shifted slightly, its translucent form flickering like a flame in a gentle breeze. ¡°Well,¡± she said after a moment, her gaze drifting toward the cluttered desk. ¡°Whoever owns this place clearly isn¡¯t great at keeping things in order.¡± Kiran took another look at the desk, his eyes scanning the chaotic jumble of papers and scattered quills. ¡°I guess not,¡± he said, his voice trailing off as he searched for something¡ªanything¡ªto anchor the conversation. Quickly running out of things to say, he turned his attention to the window. The faint sounds of a distant crowd still reached his ears, their murmurs and cheers blending into an indistinct hum. Yet, as he looked out, his breath caught. They were high¡ªfar higher than he expected. The window offered a view of sprawling rooftops with Aetherion Academy''s campus, and further still, the city of Illumnis stretched out like a tapestry below, but the courtyard where the ceremony had been was nowhere to be seen. From this vantage point atop what seemed to be a massive spire, the world below felt impossibly far away. He pressed his palm lightly against the glass, as if doing so might bridge the gap between him and the life he had left just moments ago. ¡°We¡¯re so¡­ high up,¡± he muttered, more to himself than to the girl. But it wasn¡¯t the girl who responded to his mutterings. ¡°It¡¯s all a matter of perspective,¡± a voice said smoothly, carrying a tone that was equal parts amusement and authority. Kiran spun around, his hand already in the process of forming his wand, a faint shimmer of sand beginning to coalesce in his palm. Standing behind him, halfway between himself and the girl, was a man who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. The man¡¯s appearance was striking¡ªnot for any ostentatious feature but for his sheer composure. He was tall, dressed in simple but impeccably tailored robes of midnight blue, edged with subtle silver embroidery that shimmered faintly under the room¡¯s dim light. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his eyes, sharp and penetrating, seemed to take in everything about the room in an instant. He smiled faintly, his gaze flicking from Kiran¡¯s half-formed wand to the girl¡¯s calm but curious expression. ¡°Now, now,¡± he said, raising a hand in mock surrender. ¡°No need for dramatics. You¡¯ve already passed the first test by making it here.¡± First test? Kiran thought to himself, his brow furrowing as the sand continued to spiral in his palm. He wasn¡¯t about to surrender control, not just yet. His gaze followed the man closely, every movement measured as he lowered his arms and began to walk leisurely past both Kiran and the girl. The man moved with an air of unbothered confidence, paying no mind to their wary stares. He came to a stop behind the cluttered desk, surveying the chaos as though seeing it for the first time. ¡°Oh, do please excuse my mess,¡± he said, his tone light and conversational. ¡°All the magic in the world, and yet none of it seems to make paperwork disappear.¡± He lingered there for a moment, his sharp eyes scanning the haphazard piles as though searching for something specific. Then, with a soft snap of his fingers, his expression shifted to one of quiet affirmation, as if he had just solved a puzzle. The man leaned back slightly, his faint smile curling into something that bordered on mischievous. ¡°As a quick reward for making it here,¡± he began, gesturing with a casual flick of his wrist, ¡°let me show you something interesting.¡± Kiran¡¯s grip on his coalescing sand tightened, his eyes narrowing. The girl beside him remained still, her spirit hovering quietly above her shoulder, its translucent glow dimming slightly as if anticipating what was to come. The man snapped his fingers again, and the room began to change. The walls shimmered and bent, their edges dissolving into streaks of light that spiraled outward. The desk and its clutter seemed to blur and stretch before vanishing altogether. In their place rose a vast, open expanse¡ªa sprawling landscape of stars and floating islands suspended in an endless void. Kiran stumbled slightly as the ground beneath him shifted, becoming a translucent platform that seemed to hover in the nothingness. The faint hum of magic filled the air, resonating through the space as if the very void around them was alive. ¡°Impressive, isn¡¯t it?¡± the man asked, stepping forward onto the edge of the platform, his steps casual despite the dizzying drop below. ¡°This place exists between moments, a sliver of time carved out for those who earn it. Consider it a glimpse of the possibilities that lie ahead¡­ if you¡¯re bold enough to take them.¡± Stunned, Kiran barely registered the shift in his surroundings. His eyes darted between the endless void and the floating islands, each one glowing faintly as if imbued with its own unique magic. It was only when he tried to tighten his hold on the sand in his palm that he realized something was missing. The sand was gone. The coalescing spiral he had been carefully maintaining was no longer there, and more alarmingly, he hadn¡¯t even noticed when it disappeared. His well was still expending mana, feeding into nothing, as if the very magic he controlled had been snatched away. Likewise, the girl¡¯s calm demeanor began to falter as she glanced at her shoulder. Her spirit, the constant presence she had relied on for as long as she could remember, was gone. She blinked, her hand reaching up instinctively to touch the empty space where it once hovered. ¡°Something wrong?¡± the man asked, his tone laced with knowing amusement. He turned back to face them, his sharp eyes glinting with satisfaction. ¡°You¡¯ll find that this place has a peculiar way of leveling the playing field. Here, there are no crutches, no tools. Just you.¡±
He turned to face Kiran and the girl, his expression one of quiet intensity. ¡°In truth, magic is limitless. It is not a tool, but a language¡ªone that evolves with every word, every thought, every imagination that dares to shape it. The only boundaries it knows are the ones you impose upon yourselves.¡± He gestured to the floating islands above them, each one pulsing faintly with vibrant energy. ¡°Every student who walks through the gates of Aetherion Academy comes with their own spark, their own vision of what magic can be. Here, you will learn to fan that spark into a flame, to transcend the formulas and traditions that bind you and carve your own path into the infinite.¡± The man¡¯s faint smile returned, and he inclined his head slightly, as if tipping a hat that wasn¡¯t there. ¡°I am Caelus Darion, Headmaster of Aetherion Academy. And if you are willing to step beyond the limits you¡¯ve known, then I am willing to guide you.¡± Before Kiran could muster a word, Caelus smiled and clapped his hands together. ¡°We¡¯ll see each other soon enough,¡± he said, his voice carrying a quiet finality. In the next instant, Kiran felt a sudden shove from behind, forcing his eyes open. The surreal void vanished, replaced by the bustling courtyard of Aetherion Academy. The announcement was winding down, the voice of the announcer fading into a steady hum as the crowd began to stir. Blinking, Kiran looked around to reorient himself. His gaze landed on the girl, who now stood with a serene expression, her hand gently clasped around the slender fingers of her spirit. The ethereal figure shimmered faintly, its presence as calming as it was powerful. A faint smile tugged at Kiran¡¯s lips before his attention shifted to Elias. He couldn¡¯t help but stifle a laugh as he spotted his friend, practically sleepwalking, his head bobbing back and forth like he was fighting to stay awake. ¡°And now, it is my honor to welcome these aspiring hopefuls,¡± the voice boomed, regaining the attention of the crowd. ¡°May your journey here ignite the flames of your potential, and may Aetherion Academy be the forge where your brilliance is shaped!¡± The crowd erupted into applause, the energy of the ceremony reaching its peak. Students clutched their wands tightly, some grinning with determination, others still caught in the haze of awe and nervousness. Kiran clapped along absently, his mind still reeling from the surreal encounter in the void-like room. His gaze flicked back to Elias, who had finally stopped bobbing his head and was now standing a little straighter, his grip tightening around his wand as the gates began to shimmer. Chapter 9: A Sudden Arrival Kaelen Veyl had miscalculated. Again. The sun blazed high in the sky, its relentless heat pressing down on him as he trudged along the winding roads leading to Illumnis. The city¡¯s spires were visible in the hazy distance, but to Kaelen, they might as well have been on the other side of the world. The toll of his journey¡ªand his constant freezing of time¡ªwas beginning to show. His breaths came fast and shallow, his chest heaving with the strain of his well''s exertion. Every step felt like his legs were weighed down with lead, and the familiar, uncomfortable hollowness in his well warned him that he was nearing his limit. Stopping in the shade of a scraggly tree, he wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced around, desperate to gauge how much further he had to go. Then he heard it¡ªa faint roar of applause carried on the breeze, so distant it might have been imagined, but unmistakably real. ¡°No¡­ no!¡± Kaelen groaned, the sound escaping him like a broken whisper. He buried his face in his hands for a moment before yanking them away and pacing furiously. This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen. He¡¯d crossed the ocean¡ªpartially on foot, no less¡ªand navigated days of terrain, using his time-freezing ability to cover impossible distances. But the miscalculations were piling up, and now the ceremony was starting without him. For the third time since stepping on dry land, Kaelen raised his hand, the familiar shimmer of his ability flickering faintly around his fingers. His body trembled, his knees weak, and his well dangerously close to empty, but there was no other choice. With a deep breath, he clenched his jaw and activated his magic. The world around him froze. The applause cut off mid-cheer, the wind stilled in the trees, and every sound faded into an unnatural, suffocating silence.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Just a little further,¡± Kaelen muttered, his voice oddly loud in the frozen stillness. He forced his legs to move, each step more grueling than the last, as he pressed on toward the city. Morning light spilled through open windows, casting warm rays onto rows of neatly arranged goods as a humble shopkeeper settled into his familiar routine. Outside, echos of Aetherion academy''s entrance examinations sounded in the distance, blending with the city''s gentle hum and a creaking of floorboards underfoot as occasional customers wandered through. Behind the counter, the shopkeeper, a stout man with a salt-and-pepper beard, polished a set of glass charms meant to enhance spell precision. He took pride in his routine¡ªthe quiet predictability of his life near the outskirts of the bustling magical hub. Almost an instant later however, that predictability was shattered. A loud thud outside the door made him jump, nearly dropping the charm in his hand. His brow furrowed as he moved to the doorway, his heart beating a little faster than he¡¯d care to admit. When he stepped out, what he saw made him freeze. A boy¡ªyoung, disheveled, and utterly drained¡ªwas sprawled on the cobblestones in front of the shop. His clothes were damp, his face pale, and his breath came in shallow, ragged bursts. ¡°What in the¡ª¡± the shopkeeper muttered, kneeling beside the boy. The boy¡¯s eyes fluttered open briefly, their gaze unfocused but determined. ¡°Examinations,¡± he croaked, the word barely audible before his head lolled to the side and his body went limp. The shopkeeper¡¯s heart sank. He glanced around the empty street, the distant hum of Illumnis now feeling like an ominous pressure. ¡°Hey! Kid! Wake up!¡± he called, shaking the boy gently, but there was no response. Straightening up, the shopkeeper shouted for assistance, his voice carrying over what was once a peaceful morning. ¡°Somebody! Get help! We¡¯ve got a kid down over here!¡± He turned his attention back to the boy, his mind racing. Examinations¡­ he must¡¯ve come for the academy. With no time to waste, the shopkeeper made a snap decision. Grabbing a small teleportation talisman from his pocket, he activated it with a sharp twist. The sigil glowed faintly before enveloping both him and the boy in a soft light. ¡°Hang in there, kid,¡± the shopkeeper muttered as they vanished from the street. Chapter 10: Entrance Examinations (3)
Elias hadn¡¯t expected to feel so¡­ unprepared. He had thought the examination would be relatively straightforward. After all, his countless hours spent observing others¡ªwatching as they fired spells at targets on the far side of an arena¡ªhad led him to believe the focus was on power, precision, and maybe a little showmanship. He¡¯d been ready for that, eager even. But this? This was something entirely different. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Elias''s patience was wearing thinner with each passing moment. Far from a test of skill, of firepower and precision, this¡­ this felt like a test of endurance¡ªof the body and the mind. Elias clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around the wand at his side. He blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the weight pressing on his mind. He strained to make sense of the words, to pull something coherent from the ceaseless flow, but the longer he listened, the harder it became to focus. The announcer¡¯s voice droned on, weaving through tales of the academy¡¯s founding principles and its many triumphs, but to Elias, the words had long since blurred into an incomprehensible hum. It was as if the speech wasn¡¯t just long; it was designed to stretch on forever. His mind wandered, struggling to latch onto something concrete. Had he been standing there for minutes or hours? The unchanging cadence of the voice bent his perception of time, and the world around him seemed to narrow to the sound of the endless speech.
He tightened his grip even harder than before, his fingers digging into his palm so hard it felt like he might draw blood. The spiraling construct of flame pulsed in response, its heat intensifying as if mirroring the frustration building within him. Focus, he told himself, blinking rapidly to stave off the fog settling over his thoughts. But the harder he tried to concentrate, the heavier the words pressed against his mind, wrapping around him like chains. This can¡¯t be the whole exam, can it? There has to be more than this¡­ His eyes darted around the crowd, searching for a clue, an end to the monotony. Curiously, a smiling boy stood perfectly upright, completely unaffected by the penetrating voice, and standing opposed to the wavering hopefuls around him, as if none of it had any impact on him at all. Elias''s thoughts about the boy were abruptly interrupted however, when an even more curious sound echoed from somewhere behind him. The sound was faint at first¡ªjust a soft thud. Elias¡¯s brow furrowed, his grip on his wand loosening slightly as he tilted his head to listen. Another thud followed, then another, irregular but unmistakable.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. He risked a glance over his shoulder, his heart quickening. A few students were crumpled on the ground, their expressions slack, as though they had simply given up and collapsed where they stood. Yet, no one else seemed to notice. The crowd remained eerily still, their gazes locked forward, entranced by the announcer¡¯s voice. It was as if the very sound had them in a trance, holding them captive in its endless loop. Elias swallowed hard, his throat dry. What¡¯s going on here? He wanted to run, to escape somehow, to shake off the oppressive weight of the voice droning endlessly in his mind. But as the thuds continued, each one like a dull hammer striking his nerves, Elias realized that the only thing he could do was focus on staying upright, on not collapsing like the others. His legs trembled, the heat of his wand now almost unbearable in his clenched fist. Sweat trickled down the side of his face, and his breaths came shallow and quick. Stay standing. Just stay standing, he repeated to himself like a mantra, forcing his knees to lock and his mind to focus on anything but the pull of the voice. He gritted his teeth, the torment pressing heavier with each passing second. The droning voice bore into his mind like a relentless tide, and with every thud behind him, his resolve wavered. Part of him braced for the worst¡ªan escalation of the already unbearable ordeal, some new layer of punishment to test his limits further. But then, just as his knees began to shake, and the oppressive fog seemed ready to drag him down, the voice shifted. ¡°And now, it is my honor to welcome these aspiring hopefuls,¡± the voice boomed, shattering the trance-like monotony and regaining the crowd¡¯s attention. Elias blinked, his grip on his wand slackening as he processed the sudden change. Around him, students began stirring, their focus sharpening, the spell seemingly lifted. ¡°May your journey here ignite the flames of your potential,¡± the voice continued, its tone bright and commanding, ¡°and may Aetherion Academy be the forge where your brilliance is shaped!¡± A rush of applause erupted from the crowd, startling Elias. He let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding, his muscles relaxing for the first time in what felt like hours. A flicker of pride sparked within him¡ªhe¡¯d endured. He was still standing. A quick glance around revealed far fewer students than there had been moments ago. The crowd had thinned considerably, the line of hopefuls much shorter than before. Elias¡¯s eyes scanned the area, expecting to find the crumpled forms of those who had fallen. To his surprise, there were none. Not a single body remained where they had collapsed. It was as if they had been quietly whisked away, removed without a sound or trace. He frowned, his brow knitting in confusion. Where did they go? But almost as soon as he¡¯d voiced his concern, the trial gates in front of him began to shimmer, their surface rippling like liquid silver. The strange disappearance of the fallen lingered in his mind for only a moment before his focus shifted entirely to what lay ahead. Elias tightened his grip on his wand, this time not out of panic, but resolution. The faint warmth of the spiraling flame steadied his nerves as a staff member stepped forward, motioning for the remaining students to form rows. The crowd stirred, moving into a semblance of order as the students began their march toward the academy. The hum of anticipation returned, filling the air with a mixture of excitement and tension. Elias fell into step, his gaze fixed on the shimmering gates as they loomed ever closer. The endless droning speech and the strange happenings moments before faded into the background, replaced by a single, all-consuming thought: This is it. It was far from a smooth start, but the examinations had finally begun. Chapter 11: Witnesses of Wrath (1) Elias stood before the shimmering trial gate, his heart pounding in his chest. The faint hum of its energy filled the air, drowning out the murmurs of the crowd behind him. He tightened his grip on his wand, its warmth steady in his hand, grounding him. This was the moment he had been preparing for¡ªthe moment he had imagined countless times. The line of students moved forward, each one vanishing into the gate with a flash of light. No one came back, no clues left behind as to what awaited them on the other side. Elias¡¯s mind raced with possibilities: a duel, a target, a test of power or control. He had prepared for all of it¡ªor so he thought. When his turn came, the gate loomed before him, its surface rippling like liquid silver. He hesitated, only for a moment, before stepping through. The world around him shifted in an instant. The hum of the gate and the distant chatter of the courtyard disappeared, replaced by a profound, resonant silence. The air felt thicker, charged with an invisible energy that prickled against his skin. The ground beneath him was solid yet featureless, like a polished void stretching endlessly in all directions. ¡°Welcome, Elias.¡± The voice came suddenly, smooth and measured, but not intrusive. It wasn¡¯t loud, yet it seemed to fill every corner of the space, resonating in his mind rather than his ears. Elias spun around, searching for its source, but found only the endless expanse. ¡°I am an observer,¡± the voice continued, calm and deliberate. ¡°This is your trial. You will not face it as a wizard, but as yourself. Your character, your choices, your past¡ªthey will guide what happens next.¡± The words struck him like a blow. ¡°Not as a wizard?¡± he muttered under his breath, his grip instinctively tightening on his wand¡ªonly to find it gone. His hand met empty air. ¡°What is this place?¡± he demanded, his voice sharper now, laced with unease. ¡°This is a space beyond,¡± the observer replied. ¡°A canvas shaped by what lies within you. Step forward, and the trial will begin.¡± Elias hesitated, his thoughts swirling with doubt. He had once again expected something akin to fire, explosions, and the raw thrill of battle. Instead, he was standing in the middle of¡­ nothing. But there was no turning back. With a deep breath, he took a step forward, the sound of his footfall echoing through the void. he transition was sudden, as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes. The gray void dissolved in a cascade of light and color, replaced by a scene so vivid it almost overwhelmed him. Elias found himself standing in the middle of a grand plaza, surrounded by the sights and sounds of a thriving kingdom. Cobblestone streets stretched out in neat patterns, weaving through towering buildings adorned with intricate carvings and gilded rooftops. The air buzzed with life¡ªmerchants shouted their wares from colorful stalls, children darted through the crowd with laughter, and the faint hum of magic pulsed in the atmosphere, tethered to every corner of the city.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The sky above was a brilliant blue, dotted with floating islands that glimmered with enchantments, their greenery cascading like waterfalls into the open air. In the distance, a grand palace stood atop a hill, its golden spires gleaming in the sunlight, a symbol of the kingdom¡¯s prosperity. Elias blinked, his senses reeling as the gray void melted away, replaced by the vibrant life of a grand plaza. He turned slowly, taking in the bustling streets, the towering golden spires of the palace in the distance, and the faint hum of magic laced into the very air. The scene was breathtaking, yet his chest tightened with unease. ¡°I know this place,¡± he murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible. The calm, steady voice of the observer returned. ¡°This is not a memory, but an echo. A reflection of something deeply rooted within you.¡± Elias didn¡¯t respond. His jaw tightened as fragments of familiarity clawed at the edges of his mind. He forced his breathing to steady, pushing back the emotions rising to the surface. Far above, unseen by the players on the ground, another presence watched. Caelus, the silent observer behind the trial, hovered within a space of his own making. His gaze swept across the kingdom below¡ªthe intricate architecture, the animated crowd, and the vibrant magic coursing through the air. A faint frown tugged at his lips. ¡°This place¡­¡± he muttered to himself, his voice thoughtful. ¡°Could it be?¡± His senses sharpened, noting the weight in the atmosphere, the tension concealed behind the kingdom¡¯s lively fa?ade. While the scene was only an echo, it bore the unmistakable fingerprints of something he¡¯d read about in forbidden tomes¡ªa tragedy born of unbridled wrath. Caelus folded his arms, choosing to observe rather than intervene. The trial was meant to reveal truths, not impose them. Whatever lay ahead, Elias would need to face it without interference. Back in the plaza, Elias clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he struggled against the rising tide of memories. He didn¡¯t want to remember this place, this moment, yet the observer¡¯s voice returned, gently pulling him forward. ¡°This is your trial,¡± the voice said, firm yet patient. ¡°I can guide, but I cannot see what lies within you. You must take me through this. Show me the moment that defines you.¡±
Elias took a deep breath, steadying himself as his gaze swept across the plaza. The vibrant sights and sounds tugged at his mind, stirring memories he had long since buried. With each detail that came into focus¡ªthe laughter of children, the melodic calls of merchants, the golden glow of the palace in the distance¡ªfragments of his past began to take shape. ¡°This was my home,¡± Elias said quietly, his voice taut with emotion. The observer remained silent, allowing Elias the space to continue. Elias stood motionless however, his eyes locked on the distant castle. The sunlight reflected off its golden spires, casting a warm glow over the kingdom, but there was no awe in his gaze¡ªonly a quiet, resolute stillness. His jaw tightened, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his hands remained by his sides, steady but clenched. For a moment, it seemed as though he might not move at all, his body rooted to the cobblestones beneath him. Then, without a word, he took a step forward. The observer¡¯s voice remained silent, offering no commentary as Elias began his deliberate march through the streets. The plaza behind him faded into the rhythm of the bustling kingdom, but Elias¡¯s focus remained unbroken. His pace was steady, his destination clear. Far above, Caelus watched from the quiet expanse of his vantage point. The energy of the kingdom, so vibrant and alive, felt like a taut string ready to snap. He folded his arms across his chest, his sharp gaze tracing Elias¡¯s path as the boy moved deeper into the heart of the city. ¡°No¡­¡± Caelus muttered to himself, his voice carrying the weight of realization. His gaze fixed on the golden spires of the castle, their brilliance dimmed by the unease knotting in his chest. ¡°Aurethil,¡± he whispered, the name rolling off his tongue like an invocation. The boy below kept walking, silent and unyielding. The crowd moved around him as if he were a phantom, unnoticed and untouched. ¡°This isn¡¯t going to end well,¡± Caelus murmured, his tone quiet but certain. He leaned back, letting the scene unfold without interference. For now, all he could do was watch. Elias¡¯s figure grew smaller as he disappeared into the castle¡¯s shadow, his steps deliberate and unhurried. The golden light of the kingdom continued to shine, but the edges of the scene seemed to darken, as if the echo itself was bracing for the inevitable. Chapter 12: Witnesses of Wrath (2) Wrath rarely announces itself with fury; it begins as a whisper, an ember smoldering beneath the surface, feeding on discontent until it bursts into an uncontrollable blaze. In Aurethil, the kingdom of golden spires and enchanted rivers, that ember had found its spark. Elias stood in the shadows at the edge of the throne room, a boy of no more than twelve, fidgeting with the hem of his cloak. His father, a stern figure with sharp features softened only by his silvered hair, stood at the forefront of the crowd gathered before the throne. This was a place Elias had visited often, though always as an observer¡ªa child privileged to witness the weight of governance but too young to bear it. ¡°You don¡¯t need to stay, Elias,¡± his father had whispered that morning, his hand resting firmly on the boy¡¯s shoulder. ¡°This isn¡¯t a place for children today.¡± Elias had shaken his head, his jaw set in defiance. He wanted to see, to understand. How could he one day take his father¡¯s place if he didn¡¯t know what it meant to stand in these halls? Reluctantly, his father had relented. The throne room of Aurethil was a masterpiece of magical artistry. Stained-glass windows depicting the kingdom¡¯s storied past adorned the high walls, casting shifting patterns of light onto the polished marble floor. Floating braziers hung in midair, their flames flickering in a spectrum of colors, illuminating the gilded carvings that wound their way up the columns. At the far end, King Arlon Malcrest sat on his throne, a figure of steady composure. Yet today, there was tension in the air, thick and unyielding. The assembled court murmured in hushed tones, their conversations fractured by unease. At the heart of it all stood Seris Vandreth, the Archmage of Aurethil, and Lord Halric Teren, head of the trade guild. They stood side by side, their presence casting long shadows across the room, their expressions sharp as blades. ¡°My king,¡± Seris began, his voice smooth but carrying an edge that made even Elias shift uncomfortably. ¡°The borders are restless. You¡¯ve heard the reports¡ªraiding parties testing our defenses, alliances forming against us. Aurethil¡¯s enemies see us as complacent, weakened by our desire for peace.¡± King Arlon remained still, his hands resting lightly on the arms of his throne. ¡°We are strong, Archmage,¡± he replied, his voice calm but resolute. ¡°Strength does not always come from conquest. We protect what we have built, and that is enough.¡± Seris¡¯s jaw tightened, but it was Lord Halric who stepped forward. ¡°With respect, Your Grace,¡± he interjected, his tone laced with feigned deference, ¡°protection is not enough. Protection is reactionary. What Seris and I propose is an expansion of Aurethil¡¯s influence¡ªeconomically, politically, and, if necessary, militarily. A show of strength that will remind the world why Aurethil stands unmatched.¡± Elias glanced at his father, whose lips pressed into a thin line. His father had told him about men like Halric, men who cloaked ambition in words of loyalty. ¡°And what would you have me do, Lord Halric?¡± King Arlon asked, his gaze sharp as it locked onto the nobleman. ¡°Send our armies to burn villages in the name of strength? Crush alliances before they are formed, sowing seeds of hatred for generations to come?¡± Seris stepped forward again, his movements deliberate, his robes shimmering faintly with protective enchantments. ¡°We speak not of brutality, but of decisive action,¡± he said. ¡°Aurethil¡¯s magic is the envy of the world. We can use it to expand our borders, to secure resources that will ensure our prosperity for centuries. With your leadership, we could usher in an age of unparalleled dominance.¡± The room fell silent, the weight of Seris¡¯s words pressing down on everyone present. Elias¡¯s fingers curled into fists at his sides. He didn¡¯t fully understand the stakes, but he could feel the tension, the way Seris¡¯s words seemed to pull at something deep within the crowd. A flicker of doubt passed through him. ¡°They¡¯re wrong,¡± he whispered to himself, though his voice lacked conviction. The observer¡¯s voice returned, soft but steady. ¡°Are they?¡± Elias stiffened. He had almost forgotten the presence guiding him through this trial. ¡°Yes,¡± he said quickly, his tone defensive. ¡°They didn¡¯t see what happened next. They didn¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°You are here because you saw it,¡± the observer interrupted. ¡°But you were also there before it happened. You felt the pull of their words, didn¡¯t you?¡± Elias didn¡¯t answer. His gaze fell to the polished marble floor, where the shifting colors from the stained glass reflected like fractured memories. ¡°This council was called to discuss the defense of our kingdom,¡± King Arlon said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. ¡°Not its expansion. Aurethil has thrived because we have chosen unity over division, diplomacy over war. I will not stain our legacy with needless bloodshed.¡± Halric¡¯s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Seris, however, did not back down. ¡°With respect, Your Grace,¡± he said, though the words dripped with thinly veiled contempt, ¡°your legacy means little if it crumbles into ash. The world is not as merciful as you would hope.¡± The king rose slowly from his throne, the room holding its breath as his presence filled the space. ¡°And yet,¡± Arlon said, his voice low but firm, ¡°mercy is what sets us apart.¡± The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, the court splintering into two factions¡ªthose who nodded in agreement with the king¡¯s words and those whose eyes followed Seris and Halric. Elias¡¯s father stood firm, his expression unreadable but his posture unwavering. Elias wanted to step forward, to stand beside him, but his legs felt rooted to the spot. ¡°Do you see it now?¡± the observer¡¯s voice asked. ¡°The cracks forming beneath the surface.¡± Elias¡¯s throat tightened. He didn¡¯t need the voice to tell him what was happening. He could feel it¡ªthe weight of something inevitable, a storm gathering just beyond the horizon. Seris took another step forward, his robes trailing behind him like shadows as his voice grew sharper. ¡°And what mercy do you offer your people, Your Grace?¡± he asked, each word carrying a venomous edge. ¡°When the raiders breach our borders, when the alliances forged against us descend upon our lands, what then? Will your legacy shield the farmers? The merchants? The children playing in these streets?¡± King Arlon¡¯s gaze hardened, his silence louder than the murmurs rippling through the court. Seris¡¯s words were a flame, and the court was catching fire. ¡°Enough,¡± the king said finally, his tone steady but firm. ¡°You speak of hypothetical enemies as though they were already at our gates. Aurethil has withstood centuries of challenges without succumbing to fearmongering. We will not abandon our principles for the sake of imagined threats.¡± But the words, resolute as they were, failed to douse the fire spreading through the crowd. Nobles leaned toward one another, whispering hurriedly. Even Elias could feel the divide deepening, an invisible line carving its way through the room. Lord Halric, ever the tactician, stepped forward once more. His voice was calm, measured¡ªa stark contrast to Seris¡¯s intensity. ¡°Your Grace,¡± he began, bowing slightly, ¡°no one questions your wisdom. But I must ask¡ªcan we afford not to act? The prosperity of Aurethil has been our pride, but it has also made us a target. If we do not secure our position now, we may not have the chance later.¡± The king raised a hand, silencing Halric¡¯s continued plea. ¡°Your concerns have been heard, Lord Halric. But fear will not dictate Aurethil¡¯s future. This council is dismissed.¡± The pronouncement was meant to end the debate, to quell the growing discord. But instead, it fractured the court further. Seris¡¯s lips curled into a tight smile, the kind that carried no joy. ¡°So that is your decision,¡± he said, his voice dangerously low. ¡°To bury your head in the sand and call it wisdom. I had hoped for better.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Before the guards could approach to escort Seris out, the mage raised his hand. The air around him shimmered, threads of magic weaving into the shape of glowing sigils that hung in the space between him and the throne. ¡°Your Grace,¡± Seris said, his tone cold, ¡°I will give you one last chance to prove you are the ruler this kingdom needs. Step aside, and let those with vision lead Aurethil to its rightful place in the world.¡± The king stepped down from the dais, his presence commanding even as the air thrummed with the growing tension of Seris¡¯s magic. ¡°This kingdom,¡± Arlon said, his voice calm but unyielding, ¡°is built on unity, not ambition. Your vision will lead only to destruction. I will not yield to you, Seris Vandreth.¡± Seris¡¯s eyes narrowed, his face a mask of cold fury. ¡°So be it.¡± From his position in the back of the room, Elias felt his breath hitch. The air seemed to grow heavier, the colors of the stained glass dimming as the tension in the room reached its breaking point. He glanced at his father, who stood like a statue among the crowd, his face grim but composed. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Elias whispered, though no one was there to answer him. The observer¡¯s voice returned, calm but thoughtful. ¡°A turning point, perhaps. Or just another step toward the inevitable. What do you see, Elias?¡± Elias¡¯s throat tightened as he watched the room teeter on the edge of chaos. His voice came low and unsteady. ¡°I see¡­ something breaking. Something that can''t be fixed.¡± The throne room descended into silence, broken only by the hum of Seris¡¯s magic. Halric, standing just behind the mage, smirked faintly, his hand resting on the hilt of his ceremonial dagger. ¡°Aurethil deserves a ruler who will not let it wither,¡± Seris said, his voice echoing through the chamber. ¡°You may see me as a traitor, but history will see me as a savior. I will not let this kingdom be brought to ruin by your weakness, Arlon.¡± The king stood his ground, his voice firm as he delivered his final words to the mage. ¡°History will remember you for what you truly are, Seris. A man consumed by his own wrath.¡± The words hung in the air, a quiet condemnation that only fueled Seris¡¯s rage. With a flick of his wrist, Seris unleashed a torrent of energy from the sigils, a surge of magic that sent shockwaves rippling through the throne room. The guards rushed forward, but the sheer force of the spell stopped them in their tracks. Elias flinched as the floor beneath him trembled. The stained glass shattered overhead, raining shards of colored light onto the chaos below. The observer¡¯s voice cut through the cacophony, calm but unrelenting. ¡°Wrath has no end, Elias. This is only the beginning.¡± Seris¡¯s voice rose above the chaos, his words sharp as a blade. ¡°You have chosen your path, Arlon. And I will choose mine.¡± The room erupted into pandemonium as the threads of magic spun out of control, their glow intensifying until they seemed ready to consume everything. Elias¡¯s heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The scene teetered on the edge of collapse, the forces at play threatening to tear the kingdom apart. Seris¡¯s power surged, his wrath unchecked. And in the midst of it all, Elias could only watch, his young mind struggling to process the magnitude of what was unfolding before him. The room quaked as Seris¡¯s magic surged, the sigils around him growing brighter with every word he spoke. The air was thick with tension, each breath heavy with the weight of his power. The crowd in the throne room stood frozen, too awed or terrified to move, as the Archmage¡¯s voice reverberated through the chamber. ¡°You will not act,¡± Seris said, his tone cold and resolute. ¡°You will not defend this kingdom, nor will you allow those who can to take the reins. And so, you leave me no choice.¡± His hands trembled as the magic swirled around him, threads of flame and light spinning faster and faster, coalescing into a sphere of volatile energy. The sigils etched themselves into the very air, glowing hot enough to sear the eyes of those who dared look directly at them. ¡°On the day that Aurethil¡¯s walls are breached,¡± Seris began, his voice rising in intensity, ¡°when invaders pour through these gates, and the streets of this kingdom are stained with the blood of its people¡­¡± The flames around him flared, their heat licking at the edges of the room. Glass shattered, falling in jagged shards around the court. The murmurs of the crowd turned to cries of alarm, but Seris did not falter. ¡°On that day, my flame will rise!¡± he shouted, his arms lifting as though pulling the very magic from the earth itself. ¡°It will consume everything¡ªevery stone, every blade, every soul. Ally and enemy alike. Until nothing remains but the scorched earth beneath our feet!¡± The magic began to crackle, unstable and furious. The sigils quivered, and the flames feeding them grew erratic. Seris¡¯s figure, once commanding, now seemed to waver under the strain of the power he was channeling. ¡°Seris, stop this!¡± King Arlon¡¯s voice cut through the chaos, a mixture of anger and desperation. But the mage didn¡¯t listen. His eyes burned with determination, and his words came in a final, defiant cry. ¡°Let this be the price of your inaction, Arlon. Let my wrath be the last thing this kingdom ever knows!¡± The energy around Seris reached its peak, the sigils spinning wildly as the flames surrounding him roared louder than a tempest. His body trembled under the strain, veins of molten light crawling up his arms and spreading across his skin. The air around him warped, shimmering with unbearable heat as the gathered power began to pull inward, collapsing into itself like a dying star. Seris¡¯s voice rang out one final time, echoing through the throne room with an intensity that seemed to shake the very foundation of the castle. ¡°Let this be my Vow!¡± he cried, his words carrying both fury and finality. ¡°When Aurethil falls, so too shall all who stand upon its soil. None shall be spared¡ªally, enemy, or king!¡± And then, it happened. The sigils burst into a blinding cascade of light as Seris¡¯s form folded in on itself, his silhouette consumed by the conflagration. A violent pulse of heat and energy swept through the throne room, forcing everyone back, their hands shielding their faces from the searing intensity. When the light dimmed, Seris was gone. Only a faint scorch mark remained on the marble floor, its edges glowing faintly, as if the magic itself lingered in defiance. The throne room fell silent, the heavy air choked with the acrid scent of burnt stone and ozone. For an instant, it was as if time had stopped, the weight of Seris¡¯s Vow pressing down on everyone present. No one managed a breath in the moments that followed. The crowd stared at the empty space where Seris had stood, their faces a mixture of disbelief and horror. ¡°Arrest Halric,¡± the king commanded at last, his voice heavy with exhaustion. The guards moved swiftly, their boots echoing on the cracked marble floor as they approached the trade lord. Halric¡¯s composure, always a mask of smug confidence, shattered in an instant. He stumbled back, his hand raised as though to ward them off. ¡°Wait!¡± he shouted, his voice cracking. ¡°You fools! Don¡¯t you see what you¡¯ve done?¡± The guards didn¡¯t hesitate, grabbing him by the arms and dragging him toward the chamber doors. But Halric twisted in their grip, his panicked eyes darting toward the scorched mark where Seris had stood moments before. ¡°You think this is over?¡± he bellowed, his voice rising with desperation. ¡°You think branding him a traitor will erase what just happened? That was no tantrum¡ªthat was a Vow!¡± The word cut through the silence, a chill settling over the room despite the lingering heat. Halric¡¯s rant continued, his tone frantic. ¡°You¡¯ve doomed us all!¡± he spat, his gaze locking onto King Arlon. ¡°Do you even understand what a Vow is? What it means? He didn¡¯t just disappear¡ªhe bound himself to the very magic of this kingdom! His words will linger, his flames will wait, and when they come, there will be nothing left but ash!¡± ¡°Enough,¡± Arlon said sharply, though there was a flicker of unease in his eyes. Halric ignored him, turning his attention to the gathered court, his voice dripping with bitter contempt. ¡°You stand there in your fine robes, clutching your pearls, pretending you didn¡¯t cheer for him just moments ago! You wanted this! You wanted him to do what you were too afraid to say aloud!¡± The nobles shifted uncomfortably, their murmurs growing louder as Halric¡¯s accusations echoed in the chamber. Halric let out a bitter laugh, the sound carrying a note of hysteria. ¡°Mark my words,¡± he hissed. ¡°You¡¯ll remember this day when the walls of Aurethil crumble, and you¡¯ll know it wasn¡¯t Seris who failed this kingdom¡ªit was all of you!¡± The guards pulled him harder, forcing him toward the doors. Halric struggled against their grip one last time, his voice fading as he was dragged from the room. ¡°His flames are waiting! You can¡¯t escape them! None of us can!¡± The heavy doors slammed shut behind him, the sound reverberating through the tense, silent hall. King Arlon stepped boldly to the center of the throne room, his movements deliberate, his presence commanding despite the strain evident in his features. The room was heavy with silence, the echoes of Seris¡¯s departure and Halric¡¯s rant still lingering like a shadow. The nobles watched him, their faces a mix of unease, guilt, and fear. ¡°What Seris did today will not define Aurethil,¡± Arlon said, his voice steady, cutting through the tension like a blade. His gaze swept across the court, pausing on the faces of those who had murmured their approval of Seris just moments ago. ¡°This kingdom was not built on ambition or greed,¡± he continued, his tone firm but carrying the weight of his disappointment. ¡°It was built on unity, on the belief that our strength lies not in domination, but in the bonds we share. Seris Vandreth betrayed those bonds today. He betrayed this kingdom, its people, and everything we stand for.¡± Arlon turned and moved back towards the dais, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor as he approached the throne. His presence loomed larger now, his voice filling every corner of the chamber. ¡°Let there be no mistake,¡± he said, his words carrying the gravity of a royal decree. ¡°Seris is not a savior. He is not a visionary. He is a traitor¡ªa man who chose destruction over unity, wrath over reason.¡± The king paused, his eyes narrowing as he addressed the murmuring nobles. ¡°And those of you who supported him, who allowed his whispers to fester in this court, bear no small part in this betrayal. You fed a flame that had threatened to consume us all.¡± A ripple of discomfort passed through the crowd, several nobles shifting uneasily, their gazes falling to the floor. Arlon ascended the dais toward his throne, his voice softening just slightly, though it lost none of its authority. ¡°But we will not let his actions define us. We will not let his wrath dictate Aurethil¡¯s future. This kingdom has faced challenges before, and we have overcome them¡ªnot through fear, but through resolve. Let this day serve as a reminder of who we are and what we stand for.¡± The king paused a hairs breath away from his seat, his posture straight and unwavering. ¡°Seris Vandreth will be remembered as a cautionary tale¡ªa warning of what happens when ambition blinds reason. But Aurethil will endure. It always has, and it always will.¡± The court remained silent, their unease palpable, as Arlon took his seat once more. The weight of his words lingered, but so too did the shadow of doubt. Chapter 13: I See Hell Elias stumbled forward as the air around him shifted, the remnants of the throne room melting away like ink bleeding into water. The vibrant colors and heated tension gave way to an empty void, a weightless expanse where sound and light seemed muted, almost afraid to intrude. He caught his breath, his pulse still pounding in his ears from what he had just witnessed. He stood there, alone in the stillness, his hands trembling as though the echoes of Seris¡¯s final act still reverberated through him. The silence was oppressive, heavy with unspoken questions and a lingering sense of dread. Then, like a ripple breaking the surface of a still lake, the observer¡¯s voice returned, calm yet unyielding. ¡°You can¡¯t leave it behind, can you?¡± the voice said, neither accusing nor comforting, as though stating a simple truth. ¡°It¡¯s written into the way you stand, the way you breathe. You carry it in every step, every thought. That moment changed everything.¡± Elias exhaled sharply through his nose, his fists tightening at his sides. ¡°Don¡¯t act like you know me,¡± he said, his voice barely steady. ¡°You didn¡¯t see it. You didn¡¯t feel the heat. You didn¡¯t hear them screaming.¡± The observer¡¯s tone remained steady, but there was a flicker of curiosity in it now. ¡°Then tell me, Elias. What did you see? What did you feel?¡± Elias hesitated, his gaze falling to the featureless void beneath his feet. He swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. ¡°I saw something I can¡¯t unsee,¡± he said finally, his voice quieter, haunted. ¡°I felt what it¡¯s like to be powerless. To know that everything you¡¯ve ever loved can disappear in an instant, and there¡¯s nothing you can do to stop it.¡± The observer let the quiet stretch, its presence steady but unyielding. When it spoke again, its tone was thoughtful, almost questioning. ¡°Do you think it will hurt less if you keep it at arm¡¯s length? Or is it the weight of knowing you can¡¯t change it that keeps you from looking?¡± Elias¡¯s gaze remained fixed on the void beneath him, his breath shallow. After a long pause, he looked up, his eyes clouded but searching. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m supposed to see,¡± he admitted, his voice low but steady. ¡°All I know is that it¡¯s still here¡­ and it always will be.¡± The observer¡¯s voice was softer this time, almost curious. ¡°And what happened after?¡± Elias¡¯s shoulders tensed. He wanted to push back, to continue deflecting, but the inevitable question loomed over him, as if demanding an answer. ¡°After?¡± he repeated bitterly. ¡°After, we pretended it was over. We ignored his warnings, called him a traitor, a madman. But then they came.
The throne room dissolved around Elias like smoke, fading into a void of stillness and silence. He stood alone now, though the weight of what he had just seen lingered heavily in the air. The observer¡¯s voice broke through the quiet, measured and calm. ¡°You hesitate,¡± it said. ¡°Why?¡± Elias¡¯s hands clenched into fists at his sides. His voice, when he spoke, was low, almost a whisper. ¡°Because I don¡¯t want to remember.¡± The observer paused for a moment, as if considering his words. ¡°Yet you carry it with you. Every step, every breath, this moment is etched into your very soul. Tell me, Elias. What did you see?¡± He hesitated, the words caught in his throat. Images flashed through his mind: Seris¡¯s final cry, the blinding light of his departure, and the heavy silence that followed. He felt again the knot of fear in his chest, the way the air had seemed thinner in those moments. ¡°I saw a man consumed by his own flames,¡± Elias said finally, his voice tight with restrained emotion. ¡°I saw a kingdom betray itself, and I saw how easily everything we built could fall apart.¡± The observer¡¯s voice was softer this time, almost curious. ¡°And what happened after?¡± Elias¡¯s shoulders tensed. He wanted to push back, to deflect, but the question loomed over him, demanding an answer. ¡°After?¡± he repeated bitterly. ¡°After, we pretended it was over. We ignored his warnings, called him a traitor, a madman. But then they came.¡± Before Elias could say more, the void around him began to ripple. The floor beneath his feet solidified, taking on the rough texture of cobblestone. The faint hum of magic filled the air, growing louder with each passing second. When the scene came into focus, Elias found himself standing in the middle of a bloodstained courtyard. Shouts of battle and the clash of steel echoed around him, the chaos swallowing him whole. Warriors clad in dented armor fought desperately against an overwhelming force. Flames and lightning streaked across the sky, the air thick with the acrid smell of smoke and blood. The once-pristine banners of Aurethil hung in tatters, their golden emblems charred and unrecognizable. Elias¡¯s breath hitched as he turned, his eyes catching the familiar spires of the castle. They were cracked and crumbling, their brilliance dimmed by the fires raging in the city below. And above it all, the floating islands that had once been Aurethil¡¯s pride were falling¡ªmassive chunks of enchanted earth plummeting from the sky, their descent tearing through the air with a deafening roar. ¡°This¡­¡± Elias choked out, his voice trembling. ¡°This was the day. The day everything ended." A soldier crashed to the ground mere feet from Elias, his armor caved in from a blow that had come too fast to see. The man gasped for breath, his fingers clawing at the dirt before going still. Elias stumbled back, his foot slipping on the blood-slick stones. ¡°All of this,¡± he whispered, his voice barely audible above the cacophony. ¡°We were warned about this, but it happened anyway. What Halric said that day was true. It was our fault, we let this happen.¡± ¡°It was inevitable,¡± the observer replied, its tone carrying neither judgment nor pity. ¡°A kingdom left to stagnate under inaction was always going to break, Elias. Seris''s wrath didn¡¯t just consume it¡ªit filled the void left by Arlon¡¯s refusal to act." Elias didn¡¯t respond. His gaze was fixed on the chaos around him¡ªthe soldiers desperately trying to hold the line, the mages weaving spells of destruction, and the invaders cutting through their defenses like a storm. A deafening explosion rocked the courtyard as a chunk of a floating island crashed into the castle¡¯s outer wall. The shockwave sent bodies flying, debris raining down in a deadly torrent.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Elias flinched, his arms instinctively coming up to shield himself. ¡°Why are you showing me this?¡± he demanded, his voice raw. ¡°I already lived it. I don¡¯t need to see it again.¡± ¡°Because I want to see it,¡± the observer said, its tone curious yet deliberate. ¡°The moment that shaped you. The moment that made you who you are.¡± Before Elias could respond, a familiar sensation washed over him¡ªa heat that seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere at once. His body froze as his surroundings grew unnaturally still. And then, it happened. The sky shifted to a sickening shade of orange, as if the heavens themselves had caught fire. At first, it was subtle¡ªa faint shimmering in the air, like the heat haze of a distant flame. The temperature began to rise, oppressive and suffocating, pressing down on everything and everyone. Elias¡¯s breath hitched as the world around him seemed to hold its breath. The vibrant colors of the courtyard dulled, the edges of the stonework darkening as if the life were being leeched from the earth itself. A soft, crackling sound reached his ears, faint at first, like dry leaves crumbling in the wind. Then, the first flames appeared¡ªnot in a single burst, but in countless tiny licks of fire spreading outward in unnatural patterns. They moved slowly, methodically, consuming the edges of buildings, the banners fluttering in the hot wind, and even the air itself. Elias took a step back, his foot landing on stone that had begun to glow faintly red beneath him. The courtyard¡¯s cobblestones cracked and splintered, their surfaces blistering as the heat intensified. He watched in horror as the grass in the distance withered, blackened, and crumbled into ash, the fire consuming everything in its wake without a visible source. The sky above deepened into a molten hue, and the shimmering haze thickened, distorting the shapes of the collapsing city around him. It was as though the very fabric of the world was unraveling, burning from the inside out. The screams of the people sounded like an alarm and faded almost as abruptly, replaced by an eerie silence broken only by the relentless, hungry crackle of the flames. Even the invaders, once so fierce and determined, faltered as the fire reached them. Their armor glowed white-hot before their forms were swallowed whole, vanishing into the consuming inferno. Elias¡¯s knees buckled as he felt the heat draw closer, every breath searing his lungs. His surroundings blurred, the world around him melting into a kaleidoscope of ash and fire. ¡°This isn¡¯t fire,¡± he whispered, his voice shaking. ¡°This is something worse.¡± The observer¡¯s voice broke through, soft and measured. ¡°Wrath, Elias. Not fire. Wrath burns indiscriminately, until there¡¯s nothing left.¡± Elias clutched his head, his fingers digging into his scalp as he tried to block out the sights and sounds. ¡°Make it stop,¡± he begged, his voice a desperate plea. ¡°This is what you carry,¡± the observer said, its tone quiet yet probing. ¡°The weight of it lingers in every step you take. You don¡¯t have to look away, Elias¡ªjust tell me what you see.¡± Elias¡¯s voice trembled as he whispered, his gaze fixed on the consuming flames that stretched endlessly before him. ¡°I see hell.¡± When the flames finally receded, the silence was deafening. The once-bustling courtyard was unrecognizable, reduced to a smoldering wasteland of ash and rubble. The air hung thick with the stench of burnt flesh and charred earth, an acrid reminder of the fire¡¯s indiscriminate hunger. Elias staggered to his feet, his body trembling, every muscle screaming with exhaustion. He coughed against the suffocating heat that still radiated from the ground, his lungs heavy with smoke and dust. His gaze swept over the destruction¡ªbodies twisted and blackened beyond recognition, buildings reduced to skeletal remnants, the land itself scarred and broken. For a long moment, he simply stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to take it all in. His thoughts spiraled, tangling together in a knot of fear, anger, and guilt. ¡°This is why,¡± he said finally, his voice hollow and distant. ¡°This is why I push myself, why I study, why I fight. Because if I don¡¯t¡­ it¡¯ll happen again.¡± The observer said nothing, its presence lingering just at the edge of Elias¡¯s awareness. He dropped to his knees, his hands pressing against the cracked and blackened ground. His fingers brushed against the ash, its texture fine and fragile, like the remnants of a world that no longer existed. ¡°Fire doesn¡¯t choose,¡± he muttered, his voice hoarse. ¡°It doesn¡¯t think. It doesn¡¯t care. It just¡­ takes.¡± He clenched his fists, letting the ash slip between his fingers. ¡°And yet I¡¯ve devoted everything to it. All my time, my energy, my focus¡ªon this thing that destroys. This thing I can barely control. What does that make me?¡± The wind picked up, scattering the ash into the air, swirling it around him in ghostly trails. He stared at the faint traces of flame still flickering in the distance, their light small but relentless, as if mocking his words. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s why,¡± he continued, his voice growing bitter. ¡°Because fire doesn¡¯t care. It doesn¡¯t hold grudges, doesn¡¯t hesitate, doesn¡¯t doubt itself. It just burns, no matter what¡¯s in its path.¡± Elias closed his eyes, his mind replaying the chaos he had witnessed: the screams, the heat, the way everything¡ªpeople, buildings, the land¡ªhad been stripped away to nothingness. ¡°Maybe I thought,¡± he said softly, more to himself than anyone else, ¡°that if I could master it¡­ if I could understand it¡­ I could stop it from ever doing this again. Or maybe¡­ maybe I just wanted to prove that I wasn¡¯t afraid of it.¡± The observer¡¯s voice finally returned, quiet and measured. ¡°And are you?¡± Elias opened his eyes, his expression unreadable as he stared at the flickering remnants of the inferno. ¡°Terrified,¡± he admitted, his voice steady despite the weight of the word. ¡°But fear isn¡¯t enough to stop me. It never has been.¡± He stood slowly, brushing the ash from his hands. His legs felt like lead, but he forced himself upright, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the flames had finally begun to die. ¡°Fire doesn¡¯t care,¡± he said again, his tone cold, almost detached. ¡°It just burns. Maybe that¡¯s why I¡¯ve spent my life chasing it¡ªbecause I know exactly what to expect. It never lies. It never pretends to be anything else.¡± ¡°If it destroys everything in its path, then maybe that¡¯s all it was ever meant to do. And if I¡¯m the one trying to control it¡­ well, maybe that¡¯s my problem to figure out.¡± The observer remained silent, its presence a quiet acknowledgment of Elias¡¯s words as the wasteland stretched endlessly around them. The air around Elias began to shimmer, the oppressive heat and the scorched wasteland dissolving like a mirage. He staggered slightly, his body still trembling from the weight of what he had seen and felt. The observer¡¯s voice returned, steady and even as ever. ¡°This concludes your trial, Elias,¡± it said. ¡°You¡¯ve shown what needed to be seen.¡± Before he could respond, the space around him shifted entirely. The void filled with light, and the next moment, Elias found himself standing in an expansive arena. Rows of stone seating stretched high above him, their edges lined with intricate carvings that pulsed faintly with magic. Around him, students began to appear one by one, their expressions a mixture of confusion, awe, and relief. Elias blinked, his senses still catching up to the sudden change. He turned in place, taking in the sheer scale of the arena. The hum of magic was everywhere, faint but undeniable, woven into the very fabric of the place. He noticed a boy a few feet away appear, stumbling slightly before steadying himself. Others began to fill the space¡ªsome sitting on the benches, others standing frozen as if trying to comprehend what had just happened to them. Whispers began to ripple through the growing crowd, but Elias barely heard them. His attention snapped to a familiar figure as it materialized a short distance away. Kiran stood there, shaking his head slightly as though clearing his thoughts. ¡°Kiran!¡± Elias called out, relief and excitement breaking through his voice. Kiran turned toward him, a grin spreading across his face as he caught sight of Elias. Without hesitation, Elias jogged over, his earlier tension melting away. The two met with a quick, confident high-five, their hands slapping together with a satisfying crack. ¡°You made it!¡± Kiran said, his grin broad. ¡°I knew you¡¯d pull it off.¡± Elias smirked, his usual sarcasm creeping back in. ¡°Of course I did. What, you thought I¡¯d let you one-up me?¡± Kiran laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m just glad we¡¯re both still standing. That trial¡­ It wasn¡¯t exactly a stroll through the village.¡± Elias nodded, the weight of his own experience still lingering at the edges of his mind. ¡°Yeah, no kidding. I¡¯ll tell you about it later, but for now, let¡¯s just say it was¡­ intense." ¡°Deal,¡± Kiran said, his grin softening as they both glanced around at the growing crowd of students. Elias exhaled slowly, feeling the tension in his body finally start to ease. For now, he had made it through, and so had Kiran. Whatever was coming next, they¡¯d face it together. Chapter 14: Roots of the Forgotten The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the crumbling remains of a forgotten city. Once bustling with life, the streets were now silent, overrun with vines that snaked through shattered windows and climbed the fractured walls of long-abandoned buildings. Nature had reclaimed this place, turning its ruins into a sprawling labyrinth of green. A little girl darted through the undergrowth, her bare feet deftly avoiding thorny tendrils and loose stones. She moved with practiced ease, her slight frame slipping through gaps in the overgrowth that would have stalled anyone else. On her back, she carried a makeshift pack fashioned from scraps of cloth, its contents bulging with an assortment of fruits and berries. Her face, smudged with dirt, bore an expression of quiet determination. In one hand, she clutched a small knife, its blade worn but sharp enough to cut away the occasional vine that dared block her path. Her other hand rested briefly on a thick root as she climbed to the top of a crumbled archway, pausing to survey the city below. From this vantage point, she could see the cottage in the distance. Nestled against the base of a towering tree, it was barely distinguishable from the wilderness around it. Its roof sagged under the weight of moss and creeping ivy, and its walls were almost entirely hidden behind a curtain of leaves. With a faint smile, the girl adjusted her pack and began her descent, her small frame disappearing into the labyrinth once more. Inside the cottage, the air was damp and heavy, thick with the scent of earth and rot. Shadows stretched long across the floor, broken only by the dim light filtering through cracks in the walls. At the center of the room sat two figures, their forms hunched and motionless, covered in vines that wrapped around their limbs and torsos like a grotesque embrace. The girl pushed open the rickety door and stepped inside, her footsteps soft against the worn wooden floor. ¡°I¡¯m back,¡± she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Setting her pack down on a makeshift table, she began unpacking its contents. Fruits of various shapes and colors spilled out, their vibrant hues a stark contrast to the muted greens and browns of the room. She arranged them carefully, dividing them into piles with a methodical precision that suggested this was far from her first time. Turning toward the figures, she hesitated for a moment before approaching. ¡°I got the berries you like,¡± she said softly, holding up a handful of dark, glistening fruit. ¡°And I think I found a new tree today. It¡¯s not too far. Maybe tomorrow I can bring back more.¡± She crouched down between the figures, her small hands brushing against the vines that wrapped around what had once been their arms. The figures didn¡¯t respond, their forms silent and still, but the girl didn¡¯t seem to expect otherwise. From her pack, she pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment¡ªa map, crudely drawn but detailed in its markings. She spread it across the floor and began jotting down notes in the margins, using a stub of charcoal she had scavenged.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Today, I went past the fountain,¡± she murmured as she worked. ¡°There¡¯s a patch of flowers growing there now¡ªbig, white ones. I think they might be useful. And the trees by the old library are still strong. The bark feels different, though¡­ maybe they¡¯re changing too.¡± She paused, tapping the charcoal against her chin as she thought. Leaning forward, she marked another spot on the map with careful precision. The vines around her seemed to shift slightly, their movements slow and deliberate, as though reacting to her presence. ¡°I¡¯m getting better at finding things,¡± she said, glancing up at the overgrown figures. Her voice was steady, but there was a faint edge of longing in her tone. ¡°It¡¯s not so scary anymore. And I think¡­ I think I¡¯m close to figuring out the best places to go.¡± The light outside the cottage began to fade, the golden hues of evening giving way to the deep blues of twilight. The girl worked until her charcoal nub wore down to a mere speck, then carefully folded the map and tucked it back into her pack. Yawning, she turned toward the figures, her small frame leaning against their outstretched arms. The vines cradled her like a child in a parent¡¯s embrace, their touch gentle despite their unnatural appearance. ¡°Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Dad,¡± she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she nestled deeper into the vines, seeking a comfort that felt more like memory than reality. For a moment, the room was silent, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. ¡°It''s been so long,¡± she added quietly, the words carrying a weight far beyond her years. Outside, the stars began to appear, their light filtering through the cracks in the walls and casting faint patterns on the floor. Inside the overgrown cottage, the little girl slept, her small figure entwined with the remnants of what once was. The scene within the overgrown cottage shifted subtly, though the girl remained oblivious, lost in the quiet rhythm of her nightly routine. Above it all, far beyond her awareness, Caelus observed her in silence, his gaze thoughtful as he took in the dilapidated city and the strange, tender familiarity between the girl and the hunched figures. ¡°She doesn¡¯t remember their names,¡± he murmured to himself, his tone tinged with something between pity and curiosity. His focus lingered on the girl¡¯s small frame, curled against the vine-covered forms. ¡°Yet she still seeks them out, still clings to what¡¯s left of them. There¡¯s resilience in that¡­ but also something else.¡± The overgrown ruins sprawled out below him, a testament to a world long past saving. Nature had claimed what humanity had left behind, weaving its roots through the remnants of life that once flourished here. And yet, even in this desolation, the girl moved with purpose. Determination. She belonged to this place, but not entirely. There was a tether¡ªa faint, intangible connection¡ªthat bound her to something more. Caelus watched in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable. ¡°Some paths can¡¯t be walked alone,¡± he said softly, his words almost lost to the stillness. ¡°And the strongest bonds are forged in the moments that test them the most.¡± As the girl settled deeper into the vines, the soft rustle of leaves stirred the quiet cottage. Outside, the forest seemed to hold its breath, the thick canopy above swaying gently as though something unseen moved beneath its shadowed depths. Caelus¡¯s gaze lingered on the far edges of the overgrown city, where the faintest flicker of movement caught his attention. His expression remained neutral, but his eyes sharpened, scanning the darkness beyond the trees. ¡°Trials are unpredictable,¡± he murmured to himself, his voice thoughtful. ¡°They reveal, they shape, but they don¡¯t guarantee. We¡¯ll see if they¡¯re ready for what¡¯s waiting.¡± The forest beyond seemed to shift again, an almost imperceptible ripple of tension passing through the air. Then, silence. Caelus turned his attention back to the girl, her quiet breathing the only sound in the stillness. The trial had begun, and the answers it would bring¡ªwhether triumph or failure¡ªremained just out of reach. Chapter 15: Fragmented and Lost
The faint hum of magic grew louder as she stepped through the shimmering trial gate. The moment her foot crossed the threshold, the stone beneath her feet dissolved, replaced by an odd weightlessness that made her feel as though she were suspended in a void. Her breath caught as she looked around. The world was gone, replaced by a blinding expanse of light stretching endlessly in all directions. It wasn¡¯t warm or cold, not oppressive but utterly inescapable, and it seemed to pulse faintly, like the rhythm of a heartbeat she couldn¡¯t hear but could feel deep in her chest. ¡°Do not be alarmed,¡± a voice said, calm and steady, as though it had been waiting for her to arrive. It echoed softly, as if carried by the very air itself, wrapping around her like an unseen presence. Her hands instinctively tightened on the straps of her makeshift pack. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± she asked, her voice sharp with tension. ¡°I am merely an observer,¡± the voice replied, its tone even and detached. ¡°You¡¯ve entered the trial, one meant not only for you but also for the one who walks beside you.¡± She blinked, her brow furrowing as confusion flickered across her face. ¡°Shared? With who?¡± Beside her, a faint glow began to take shape. The outline of her spirit appeared, its soft, ethereal light forming until it hovered close to her shoulder. Its presence was a quiet comfort, though her grip on her pack didn¡¯t ease. ¡°With the one who stands with you in both strength and doubt,¡± the observer explained. ¡°A bond such as yours carries great potential, but also great fragility. This trial will reveal the truth of that bond¡ªnot to others, but to yourselves.¡± Her gaze shifted to her spirit, her lips pressing into a thin, determined line. ¡°And what kind of trial is this?¡± ¡°One of understanding,¡± the voice said simply. ¡°You will face what binds you together and what could drive you apart. Step forward, and the trial will begin.¡± For a moment, she hesitated. Her eyes flickered between the light that stretched ahead of her and the spirit at her side. Its faint glow seemed to shift, almost as if urging her onward. Taking a steadying breath, she gave a small nod and stepped forward. The light around her shimmered, and the weightlessness disappeared as if a tether had yanked her back to solid ground. She felt the familiar sensation of earth beneath her feet, rough and stable, as her surroundings slowly came into focus. She stirred, her senses sluggish and her mind clouded. When she opened her eyes, the world was dim and quiet, the soft glow of evening light filtering through cracks in the walls. She lay cradled in something warm, but there was an emptiness in her chest that she couldn¡¯t place¡ªlike the faint ache of something missing. Her eyes fluttered open to the dim light filtering through cracks in the walls. The quiet warmth of the room surrounded her, familiar yet strangely distant. She pushed herself upright, her fingers brushing against the rough texture of vines that wrapped around the hunched figures nearby. Something wasn¡¯t right. She couldn¡¯t explain it, couldn¡¯t put her finger on why, but the room felt¡­ emptier than it should. Her eyes scanned the overgrown walls, the sagging roof, the piles of moss and leaves that had become as much a part of the space as the figures themselves. It was all the same, and yet¡ª Her chest tightened, a strange hollowness settling just beneath her ribs. It wasn¡¯t fear, exactly, but a gnawing absence that made her shift uncomfortably where she sat. She glanced around again, her gaze darting from corner to corner, but nothing was missing. Not really. She pushed herself to her feet, brushing dirt from her tunic. The faint ache in her chest refused to fade, but every time she tried to focus on it, her thoughts slipped away, leaving her with nothing but that lingering emptiness. Her fingers grazed the edges of the makeshift table where her map usually sat, but the surface was bare. She glanced to the floor, her pack nowhere in sight. ¡°That¡¯s strange,¡± she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her brow furrowed as she searched the room again, though she couldn¡¯t have said what she was looking for. The observer¡¯s voice cut through the stillness, steady and calm. ¡°Do you know where you are?¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. She froze, her heart lurching at the unexpected sound. ¡°What¡ªwho¡¯s there?¡± The voice ignored her question. ¡°Do you know where you are?¡± Her gaze flicked to the figures in the corner, their forms still wrapped in greenery. Her hands tightened into fists at her sides. ¡°I¡¯m home,¡± she said, but the words felt foreign, hollow. The observer¡¯s voice softened, as though it were considering her response. ¡°And yet, it doesn¡¯t feel right, does it?¡± Her lips parted, but no sound came. The hollowness in her chest swelled, twisting into something heavier, sharper. ¡°What is this?¡± she demanded, her voice unsteady. ¡°Why does everything feel so¡­ wrong?¡± ¡°This is your trial,¡± the voice replied, even and unyielding. ¡°You¡¯ve lost something, though you don¡¯t yet remember what. To move forward, you must find it.¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t lost anything,¡± she snapped, the words coming out harsher than she intended. The silence that followed pressed down on her, suffocating. The room began to shift. The walls cracked and splintered, vines pulling away from the surfaces they had clung to for years. The figures in the corner blurred, their shapes dissolving into shadow. ¡°No!¡± she cried, reaching out instinctively, though she didn¡¯t know why. Her hands met only empty air as the figures melted into the creeping darkness. The warmth of the cottage faded, replaced by a biting chill. She stumbled backward, her bare feet landing on rough, uneven ground. When she looked up, she found herself in the middle of a vast, overgrown city. Her breath caught in her throat as she turned in place, taking in the towering ruins around her. The vines that crept along the fractured walls seemed to shift unnaturally, their movements almost alive. The air was thick, heavy, and the silence wasn¡¯t peaceful¡ªit was oppressive, weighing on her like an invisible hand. Her hands clenched into fists again, her shoulders tense. ¡°This isn¡¯t right,¡± she whispered, her voice trembling. From his perch in the void between realms, Caelus watched the trial unfold, his gaze lingering on the girl as she stepped hesitantly through the overgrown city. Her movements were deliberate, cautious, her eyes darting through the ruins as though searching for something she couldn¡¯t name. ¡°Even now, she doesn¡¯t realize what¡¯s missing,¡± he mused quietly, his tone thoughtful. ¡°Or perhaps she feels it but doesn¡¯t yet understand. A bond severed is not easily repaired¡­ if it can be repaired at all.¡± His focus shifted, his awareness extending beyond the girl and into the vast expanse of the trial¡¯s construct. The forest surrounding the city rippled faintly, its edges flickering with an otherworldly glow. Deep within its tangled heart, something stirred. A faint glimmer, barely perceptible, pulsed erratically in the shadows. Caelus¡¯s brow furrowed as his attention settled on the fragmented light. It was small, weak, but alive. Barely. ¡°Lost,¡± he murmured, his voice soft, almost reverent. ¡°Drifting on the edge of forgetting¡­ and yet it lingers.¡± The forest seemed to breathe, its silence deepening as the flickering light hovered uncertainly in the shadows. Caelus leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable. ¡°And so the other half wanders, searching for what it doesn¡¯t remember. Will they find each other before the void consumes them both?¡± The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the world shifted again, leaving Caelus behind. The forest was a labyrinth of shadows and silence, its towering trees stretching endlessly into the dim, colorless light. A spirit drifted aimlessly through the undergrowth, its faint glow pulsing irregularly, like a heartbeat out of rhythm. It didn¡¯t know how long it had been wandering. Time was meaningless here, and the trees stretched endlessly in every direction, their roots twisting across the ground like the veins of a living creature. The air was thick with an unnatural stillness, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves as the spirit passed. Something was missing. It didn¡¯t know what, but the absence gnawed at it, a hollow ache that radiated through its very essence. It floated forward, the faint shimmer of its form dimming with each passing moment. It wasn¡¯t exhaustion¡ªit couldn¡¯t feel tired¡ªbut there was a weight dragging it down, pulling at the edges of its awareness. The spirit paused, its form flickering like a flame caught in a draft. It tilted, as though listening for something, but the forest was silent. Nothing answered its unspoken call. What had it lost? It searched its fragmented thoughts, but there was nothing there. No memory, no name, no sense of where it had come from or why it was here. Only that gnawing emptiness, that unshakable feeling that something vital had been ripped away. It hovered near the base of a massive tree, its roots sprawling outward like tendrils. The spirit¡¯s faint glow reflected against the slick, moss-covered bark, casting wavering patterns across the ground. It drifted closer, brushing against the tree as though seeking comfort, but the rough texture sent a jolt through its form. The spirit recoiled, its glow brightening momentarily before dimming again. It pulsed erratically, its edges fraying like threads coming undone. It needed to find something¡ªanything¡ªbut it didn¡¯t know what to look for. As it floated onward, the forest seemed to grow darker, the trees looming closer together. The spirit hesitated, its movements slowing. The air was thicker here, heavier, and the faint shimmer of its glow barely penetrated the shadows. It hovered uncertainly, its light flickering like a candle in a storm. The ache within it grew sharper, almost unbearable, as though the weight of its own existence were pressing inward. A sudden noise broke the silence¡ªa faint hum, low and resonant, like the distant echo of a voice. The spirit froze, its flickering slowing as it turned toward the sound. The hum was faint, almost imperceptible, but it felt¡­ familiar. It drifted forward again, drawn by the sound like a moth to a flame. The forest around it seemed to ripple, the shadows deepening and the air trembling faintly with each pulse of the hum. The spirit¡¯s glow brightened slightly, its movements growing more certain. The ache within it didn¡¯t fade, but it was overshadowed now by something else¡ªa pull, a whisper that urged it onward. It didn¡¯t know what lay ahead, but the faint echo of familiarity was enough. Chapter 16: Echoes of the Unknown The forest grew darker as the spirit, Sylra, moved, the once-familiar stillness replaced by an uneasy rhythm that seemed to emanate from everywhere at once. Shadows stretched unnaturally across the ground, their edges flickering as if alive, and the air felt thick, almost oppressive. Its glow pulsed faintly, dimmed by the weight of the forest¡¯s silence but still steady enough to push forward. There was no choice but to move. The pull¡ªa whisper that gnawed at its awareness¡ªdrew it deeper into the twisting expanse of trees and roots. The Spirit floated onward, its faint light casting wavering patterns on the gnarled roots beneath it. The hum in the air grew louder, no longer just a rhythm but something layered, intricate. It wasn¡¯t just sound¡ªit felt alive, threading through the forest like a living presence. As it passed beneath a massive tree, its branches clawing the sky like skeletal fingers, the spirit paused. The hum shifted, reverberating in a way that made its core tremble. This place was different. The shadows around the tree seemed to move independently of the faint light, curling and writhing like smoke caught in an unseen breeze. The spirit hesitated, its glow faltering. For the first time, the pull it had been following felt less like a guide and more like a lure. But it couldn¡¯t stop. Sylra floated closer, cautiously circling the tree¡¯s massive trunk. As it neared, the shadows thickened, merging into a solid mass that pulsed faintly with the same rhythm as the hum. The spirit tilted, studying the phenomenon, an instinctive flicker of memory surfacing like a ripple in still water. It had seen this before¡ªthis twisting darkness, this oppressive stillness. The realization struck like a jolt, sending its glow flaring brighter for a fleeting moment. Whatever this was, it had been here long before the forest had overgrown the city. It wasn¡¯t natural. It didn¡¯t belong. The hum grew sharper, the rhythm quickening. Sylra recoiled slightly, its edges fraying as the ache within it surged. And then it stopped. The hum vanished, replaced by a silence so profound it seemed to press down on the forest like a shroud. The shadows around the tree stilled, their writhing halted in an unnatural stillness. Something was watching. The spirit froze, its light dimming to a faint flicker. The ache within it gave way to a sharper sensation¡ªa tug, not from the pull it had been following, but from the darkness itself. It was no longer merely being lured. It was being hunted. The shadows around the tree shifted again, moving with a purpose that the spirit couldn¡¯t define. Its light dimmed further, flickering like a candle in a gale. The oppressive silence pressed down harder, thick and stifling, as though the forest itself were holding its breath. Sylra hesitated, the pull she had been following now lost beneath the weight of the darkness. This wasn¡¯t what she had been drawn to¡ªthis was something else entirely. A memory, faint and fleeting, stirred at the edge of her awareness. It whispered of familiarity, but the ache of its absence was sharper than ever. The forest loomed, its towering trees twisting unnaturally as the silence grew unbearable. And then, faint and distant, a sound broke through¡ªa sound not from the forest but from somewhere else entirely. It was soft, rhythmic, almost like breathing.Stolen novel; please report. Sylra froze once more, her glow flaring briefly before dimming again as she once again headed towards the unknown. Outside, the city stretched endlessly, its overgrown streets bathed in faint, eerie moonlight. The vines twisted across the walls like veins, their gnarled forms casting strange patterns that seemed to shift with every step she took. The girl¡¯s breath quickened. She didn¡¯t know what she was looking for, but something compelled her to move. A faint whisper reached her ears, so soft she thought she might have imagined it. It wasn¡¯t a word¡ªjust a sound, barely more than a breath, but it sent a chill racing down her spine. She stopped, her eyes darting toward the direction of the sound. The shadows shifted, curling inward like smoke caught in a draft. For the first time in a long while, she felt a flicker of something she couldn¡¯t name¡ªfear, perhaps, or maybe anticipation. She didn¡¯t know what lay ahead, but the weight in the air told her that whatever it was, it was waiting for her. The biting chill clawed at her skin as the oppressive silence deepened, punctuated only by the faint rustle of vines shifting unnaturally across the ruins. She glanced over her shoulder toward the path she had taken, but it was gone¡ªswallowed by both shadows and vines that crept like living tides. Her breath quickened. Her hands tightened into fists. She had wandered this city before, or at least a place like it, but never before had she felt this...unnerved. Fractured walls jutted out at unnatural angles, overgrown with thick tendrils of ivy that writhed like restless serpents. Above, moonlight seemed caught in the gnarled branches, casting sharp, fragmented beams across the city¡¯s empty streets. She occasionally paused in her haste to take hesitant steps forward, each movement stirring faint echoes that bounced off the skeletal remains of the buildings. ¡°This isn¡¯t right,¡± she whispered again, her voice swallowed by the oppressive air. Freezing mid-step, the girl raised her hand to her ear. A faint sound, low and resonant, rolled through the still air like distant thunder. Her breath hitched as she turned sharply, her eyes scanning the shadows for movement. The sound came again¡ªcloser this time. It was... breathing. Her feet moved before she could think, carrying her away from the sound and deeper into the labyrinth of overgrowth. The jagged outlines of buildings loomed around her, their towering forms narrowing the path as she ran. She rounded a corner, her heart pounding in her chest, and stumbled into a clearing. At the center stood the remnants of what might have once been a fountain, its cracked basin overflowing with dark, stagnant water. She stopped, her hands braced against her knees as she struggled to catch her breath. Her wide eyes flicked around the clearing, searching for any sign of what might have been chasing her. The breathing had stopped. A soft rustling drew her gaze upward. The vines that hung from the surrounding buildings were shifting again, their movements more deliberate, more alive. The tendrils seemed to stretch toward her, their edges curling like claws. She backed away slowly, her hand reaching instinctively for the pack on her shoulder. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was all she had¡ªa few berries, a piece of charcoal, a crudely drawn map. None of it would help her now, but clutching it made her feel a little less alone. Her foot caught on a loose stone, and she fell backward, landing hard against the cracked ground. The sound echoed loudly in the silence, and the vines froze mid-motion, as if startled by her fall. For a moment, everything was still. And then the shadows moved. From the darkness beyond the clearing, a figure emerged. Its form was indistinct, shifting like smoke, but its presence was undeniable. The oppressive air grew heavier as it stepped closer, its movements slow and deliberate. The girl scrambled backward, her heart hammering in her chest. She didn¡¯t understand what it was, but every fiber of her being screamed that she needed to get away. The figure stopped just short of the clearing¡¯s edge, its amorphous shape twisting unnaturally. The vines crept toward it, drawn to its presence like iron to a magnet. The shadows deepened, swallowing the faint moonlight that had managed to pierce the overgrowth. The girl¡¯s breath caught in her throat. She didn¡¯t dare move. And then it spoke. A voice, low and guttural, resonated through the clearing. It wasn¡¯t words¡ªnot exactly. It was more like the echo of a thought, raw and unfiltered, pressing directly into her mind. ¡°You don¡¯t belong here.¡± Her eyes widened, her body frozen in place as the words echoed in her head. But then, faint and flickering, something sparked at the edge of her awareness. A light¡ªsoft and distant¡ªemerged from the forest beyond, its presence subtle yet unmistakable. Caelus silently watched the scene unfold, his attention split between the girl and the spirit. The trial was nearing its turning point, but the outcome was far from clear. Chapter 17: Aeryn The ground trembled beneath her feet, the oppressive shadows pressing closer with every passing moment. The girl stood her ground, her bare toes curling against the broken stone as her breath came in ragged bursts. Across the clearing, the creature loomed¡ªa mass of writhing darkness, its form neither solid nor smoke, but something in between. Its deep, resonant hum seemed to vibrate through the very air, and then it spoke again. ¡°You don¡¯t belong here.¡± The words scraped against her mind, sharper this time. They clawed at something deep within her, a wound she hadn¡¯t realized was there. ¡°I¡ª¡± she started, but faltered. What was she supposed to say? Her fists clenched as the ache within her chest grew sharper. The feeling wasn¡¯t new, but now it was unbearable. It gnawed at her, empty and hollow, as though something vital had been ripped away. A name. Her name. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know what you mean,¡± she whispered, her voice cracking. The creature didn¡¯t move. Its presence seemed to swell, the shadows rippling outward like waves on blackened water. And then, she felt it¡ªher. A faint light flickered at the edge of her vision. Turning slowly, the girl caught sight of a soft glow breaking through the vines and shadows. It wavered, uncertain, but it was there, pushing back the darkness. The creature shifted. Its attention flickered toward the light, though it did not move. The girl¡¯s breath hitched. She took a step toward the glow, her heart hammering. With each step, her surroundings seemed to blur¡ªfragments of forgotten moments flashing before her eyes. A child¡¯s laughter. Fingers tracing shapes in the dirt. Nights spent curled up in warmth, safe from the cold. The ache in her chest sharpened as she stumbled forward. ¡°Sylra,¡± she whispered, the word slipping from her lips before she realized she had said it. The light surged, brighter now. It broke through the vines like a star piercing through clouds, its soft glow pulsing with recognition. The girl¡¯s vision blurred as the memories crashed over her, clear and undeniable. Sylra. The spirit¡¯s light pushed closer, weaving through the encroaching darkness, brushing against the girl¡¯s outstretched hand. Their connection flared to life, and in that moment, everything returned. The bond they had shared¡ªthe moments of survival, of trust, of love¡ªunfolded in brilliant clarity. But before Sylra, there had been only silence. Only loneliness. The memory shifted, drawing her back to a time before the glow of her spirit¡¯s light had entered her life. On a day like any other, a city lay bathed in the amber glow of twilight, its crumbling ruins wrapped in the quiet stillness of the approaching night. Shadows stretched long across the broken streets, weaving through the tangle of vines that clung to every surface like nature¡¯s final claim. A young girl crouched on a crumbling rooftop, her pack slung tightly over her shoulder as she peered down at the street below. A rustling vine stirred faintly in the breeze, its movement catching her eye. ¡°Just the wind,¡± she murmured to herself, though her voice sounded strange in the stillness. Her stomach growled, a sharp reminder of how little she¡¯d managed to gather that day. The city¡¯s twisted streets and towering ruins were familiar enough, but every venture felt like a gamble. Sometimes, the fruits she found among the overgrowth were enough to keep her going. Other times, she wasn¡¯t so lucky. She sighed, shifting her weight as her eyes scanned the horizon. A cluster of vines far below had grown thick with berries, their bright red color vivid against the muted greens of the city. She judged the distance to the ground¡ªa few stories down but manageable. The girl swung her pack around, tightening the straps before slipping it onto her back. With practiced precision, she climbed over the ledge and began her descent, her hands and feet finding holds among the vines that snaked across the building¡¯s surface. The city had taught her well¡ªhow to move, how to listen, how to survive. Her feet hit the ground with a soft thud, and she moved quickly to the berries, plucking them in small handfuls. Each one she dropped into her pack was a small victory. But as she reached for another cluster, a faint sound froze her in place. Breathing. Her head snapped up, her wide eyes darting through the surrounding ruins. The sound came again, low and deliberate, echoing faintly through the hollow streets. She crouched instinctively, her fingers tightening around the strap of her pack. It wasn¡¯t like the vines¡¯ rustling or the distant calls of scavenging birds. This was¡­ different. The girl held her breath, her ears straining. The breathing grew louder, closer, its rhythm uneven and labored. Something was coming. Without hesitation, she bolted, her bare feet slapping against the cracked pavement as she darted between the ruins. Her pack bounced against her back, the berries inside threatening to spill with every step. Her heart pounded in her chest, the sound of it almost drowning out the approaching footsteps. She didn¡¯t look back. The shadows stretched longer as the sun dipped below the horizon, plunging the city into twilight. The girl¡¯s breath came in ragged bursts as she rounded a corner, searching for a place to hide. Her eyes landed on an archway half-covered by vines, its dark interior offering a moment¡¯s reprieve. She slipped inside, pressing herself against the wall as she tried to quiet her breathing. The footsteps grew faint, then stopped altogether. Silence. She stayed still, her muscles tense, as minutes stretched into what felt like hours. Finally, when she could no longer hear anything but the wind, she allowed herself to relax. The girl let out a shaky breath, her body sagging against the wall. Her hand drifted to her pack, checking the berries inside. Most of them had survived the chase, though a few had been crushed. As she shifted to adjust her pack, a faint glow caught her attention. Her head turned slowly, her eyes narrowing as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. In the shadows of the archway, a small light flickered faintly, its glow soft and warm. She tilted her head, inching closer to the light. It didn¡¯t seem threatening¡ªif anything, it felt inviting. The glow pulsed gently, drawing her in. ¡°Hello?¡± she whispered, her voice barely audible. The light moved slightly, almost as if it were responding. The girl reached out cautiously, her fingers trembling as they brushed against the edge of the glow. The moment they touched, warmth spread through her like a wave, and the ache in her chest¡ªthe emptiness that had been her constant companion¡ªlessened. She gasped, pulling her hand back, but the light didn¡¯t retreat. Instead, it hovered closer, its glow enveloping her in a soft embrace. It was from that moment on, that the girl was no longer alone. The memory blurred, its edges softening as new fragments came into focus, each one a vivid reminder of the bond they had shared. A bitterly cold night beneath a crumbling roof. The girl sat curled against the wall, her knees pulled tightly to her chest as the wind howled through the cracks in the ruins. Her breath came in visible puffs, and her thin tunic did little to ward off the chill. The spirit hovered close, its soft glow casting flickering shadows on the walls. ¡°You¡¯re warm,¡± she murmured, her voice shaking. Tentatively, she stretched out her hand, letting the glow brush against her fingertips. The warmth spread through her like an ember, chasing away the cold that had seeped into her bones. She smiled faintly and whispered, ¡°Thank you.¡± Another memory surfaced: laughter echoing through the empty streets, a sound so rare in the silence of the overgrown city. The girl darted between the vines and broken walls, her pack bouncing against her back as she chased the glowing orb. ¡°You¡¯re fast!¡± she called, her grin widening as the spirit darted ahead, weaving through the jagged ruins with effortless grace. She stumbled over a loose stone and tumbled to the ground, landing with a soft thud. A moment later, the light circled back, hovering just above her head. She looked up, laughing breathlessly. ¡°Alright, you win,¡± she admitted, reaching up to tap the glowing form with her finger. The spirit¡¯s light pulsed in response, almost as if it were laughing with her. Moments of quiet companionship followed, their bond growing stronger with each passing day.
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.