Toward the western edge of the courtyard stood a pale archway adorned with flowering vines of soft, luminescent blue. Beyond it lay a circular arena of smooth white stone, etched with intricate arcane glyphs that pulsed gently beneath the surface. This was where Instructor Althaea waited, her presence a beacon of stillness and inner fire.
Patricia Gomez and Erika Lim approached her slowly, both glancing around at the spell-bound arena, where the air shimmered faintly with restrained energy.
Althaea stood at the arena's center, the sunlight catching the pearlescent sheen of her marble-like skin. She bore the refined form of a high elf sculpted into a golem, with cascading hair of deep crimson and golden veins coursing faintly across her arms like molten rivers beneath her skin. Her eyes, a brilliant opal, shimmered with layered intensity.
When the girls neared, she opened her eyes fully, and the energy around the platform responded—runes glowing brighter with each heartbeat.
"You've been chosen for a reason," she said, her voice like a warm ember in a cold chamber. "You carry the burden and gift of magic that demands creativity—and responsibility."
She turned to Patricia first. "Fire, wild and fierce. It listens to passion, but if your will falters, it consumes not just your enemies—but yourself."
Patricia stood straighter. "I've practiced control. My magic doesn't scare me."
Althaea tilted her head, studying the girl. "Good. Fire that fears itself is dangerous. But fire that believes it is safe… can become arrogant."
With a flick of her hand, a ring of blue flame burst to life around Patricia, dancing inches from her skin. The girl didn't flinch.
Althaea gave a small nod. "You will learn to shape fire—not just into flame, but into intent."
She then faced Erika, her gaze softening.
"And you… wield illusion, a magic of layered truths and lies. Of all magics, it demands the keenest understanding of perception—both yours and others'. Do you know what that means?"
Erika shrugged, half-smiling. "I can make people see what I want them to see."
"Can you?" Althaea stepped closer, her voice lowering. "Can you see what they want to believe? Can you become what they fear, or what they trust—before they even realize it?"
Erika hesitated, smile fading.
"Deception is not just trickery. It is art, and weight, and moral choice. A lie that saves can be more powerful than truth that kills."
With a murmured word, Althaea conjured a mist between them. Within the mist rose images: a charging beast, a weeping child, a trusted ally with a knife behind their back. The illusions shifted rapidly, testing Erika's focus.
"Show me what you would become," she said.
Erika closed her eyes. In moments, her form shimmered, and in her place stood an armored version of herself—calm, radiant, indomitable.
Althaea smiled. "A false strength. But a promising illusion."
The mist dissolved, and she stepped back from both girls.
"This place will be your forge. Not of metal, but of mind. Fire and illusion are magics born of chaos and choice. Learn their cost. Respect their weight. Only then will you master them."
Switching to the other instructor…
To the northeast quadrant of the courtyard, beneath a gently glowing crystal spire, stood Instructor Vaelrya. Her presence was quiet—almost reverent—but unmistakably powerful. The platform beneath her feet shimmered like morning dew over silver stone, inscribed with runes that spiraled outward like a blooming flower.
Kevin, Nolan, and Janine approached her in a loose formation, each glancing warily at the calm, strange elegance that surrounded her.
Vaelrya stood tall, her expression unreadable. Unlike the others, her marble form was almost glasslike, with faint whorls of color inside her limbs like captured auroras. Her hair cascaded in silken strands of sky-blue and pearl white, and her pale violet eyes held the kind of silence that made others reluctant to speak first.
She raised her hand slowly, and a breeze stirred in the air around them—gentle but layered with pressure, like the breath of a sleeping storm.
"You three have been entrusted to me," she began, her voice smooth, like a river gliding beneath ice. "Because your magic dwells in the elements that do not simply attack—they shape the battlefield. They guide the rhythm of war itself."
Her gaze passed over Kevin first. "Fire support, yes? Long-range. You are not the tip of the blade—but the unseen force that delivers precision and devastation."
Kevin nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
Vaelrya did not return the smile he offered. "Precision will be your life. Hesitation will be your downfall. I will not teach you to explode wildly. I will teach you to make fire move like a whisper, and strike like a god's judgment."
She turned slightly toward Nolan. "You. Ice."
Nolan straightened, swallowing hard.
"Ice is not simply cold. It is stillness. It is control. Unlike fire, it waits. Listens. Learns its prey before it closes in."
She flicked her fingers, and a sculpture of ice formed midair—first a rose, then a spider, then a sword.
"You will learn when to freeze. When to slow. When to shatter."
Nolan nodded, his breath curling visibly as her magic brushed his skin.
Finally, Vaelrya's gaze settled on Janine. "Wind is freedom. But it is also force. No element shifts faster. None is as elusive. And none requires more balance."
Janine took a breath, wind already beginning to dance around her fingertips as if drawn to Vaelrya's presence.
"You will learn to command the air—not let it carry you. You will not drift. You will drive."
Vaelrya turned, and the platform shifted beneath them. Small rings appeared around the edge—training circles etched in light, each adjusted for their elemental needs.
"You will train separately for now," she said. "Fire to the east. Ice to the north. Wind to the center."
Without further word, she stepped into the arena's heart, and her runes responded like a living organism—adjusting, pulsing with life.
"Begin. You will not be coddled. Your elements are gifts. But if you do not earn them—truly earn them—they will betray you."
Kevin's fire flared at his palms as he stepped into his circle, trying to shape it into a focused arc.
Nolan knelt in silence, his breath slowing as he coaxed frost along the edge of the stone.
Janine stood still, arms lifted slightly as she felt for the wind—not to let it lift her, but to answer her command.
Above them all, Vaelrya watched in silence, her hands clasped behind her back.
Minutes passed before Kevin, still holding his stance, spoke up with hesitant curiosity. "Instructor Vaelrya… may I ask something?"
Vaelrya gave a small nod.
He continued, "Why is Patricia Gomez not training with us? She uses elemental magic too. Shouldn't she be here under your guidance?"
Nolan and Janine both stilled, eyes drifting toward their instructor, waiting for her response.
Vaelrya tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable.
"That is a fair question," she said calmly. "Yes, Patricia wields fire—an elemental force. But elemental affinity is not the only measure by which one is placed."
She stepped closer, her voice steady, yet tinged with something thoughtful.
"His majesty, in his wisdom, does not assign at random. If he placed Patricia under Althaea's care, it is because he sees something deeper in her path, something perhaps not yet obvious, even to her. Her fire may burn too wild for elemental refinement at this stage. Or there may be a potential in illusion, chaos, or unshaped power that only Althaea can reach."
She paused, allowing the silence to settle.
"I do not question his decisions. And neither should you. When your training bears fruit, you may come to understand why he chose as he did."
Kevin gave a slow nod, accepting her answer with quiet thoughtfulness.
Janine and Nolan exchanged brief glances, then returned to their focus.
Vaelrya stepped back, her hands folding behind her once more, her gaze returning to their circles.