The greenhouse trembled under the weight of a restless dawn, its cracked glass panes rattling as a sharp wind swept through Eldoria Academy's gardens. Kael Veyrin sat cross-legged amidst the tangle of thorny roses, the deep blue Veyrin crystal cradled in his palms, its pulse now a steady throb that resonated with the newfound strength coursing through his veins. The air within the abandoned structure was thick with the scent of damp earth and fading magic, the remnants of wilted vines curling around the rusted tables like silent sentinels. Outside, the first light of June 3, 2025, filtered through the ivy, casting long shadows that danced across the floor. The victory of the previous day's Culling Trial still lingered, a fragile triumph that had propelled Kael and his team into the top ten, but the cost was etched into his mind—the growing presence of the echo, the voice that whispered of vengeance and power.
Elara stood by the broken window, her crimson robe slightly singed from the trial's fire magic, her bandaged arm now free of its wrap as the healer's magic had finally taken hold. She scanned the garden paths, her sharp eyes alert for any sign of proctors or noble spies. Lir sat nearby, his spellbook open, his fingers tracing runes as he muttered about amplifying Severance further, though his pale face betrayed his exhaustion. Thane, Gav, and Mara had joined them, their presence a testament to the alliance that had formed in the trial's chaos, each carrying the weight of their new ranking and the risks it entailed.
Kael's thoughts were a storm. The crystal had stabilized his Severance, granting him the ability to unravel spells with a thought, but the ritual had awakened something deeper—an echo of his bloodline that spoke in his mother's voice, guiding him toward the throne. The ledger from the archive had confirmed it: the Veyrins had once been allies of House Vaelthar, their magic a counter to the royal ritual that drained other bloodlines to sustain their power. His family's eradication had been a preemptive strike, and now, with the catalyst, he was the last threat they couldn't ignore. But the echo's whispers were growing louder, urging him to claim his birthright, and with each use of Severance, he felt a piece of himself slipping away.
"We can't stay here long," Elara said, turning from the window. Her voice was firm, but there was a flicker of concern in her eyes as she looked at Kael. "The royals will retaliate after yesterday. That overseer you exposed—someone high up is furious. I heard whispers in the halls about a 'special review' of the top ranks."
Kael nodded, the crystal's warmth grounding him. "They'll use the review to weed us out," he said, his voice low. "Lysara and Aric won't let us rise without a fight. We need to be ready—train harder, gather intel, and find Rylan. If he's alive, he knows more about the ritual."
Lir looked up from his book, his fingers pausing on a rune. "I've been researching the echo," he said hesitantly. "It's not just a memory—it's a fragment of your ancestors' will, bound to the crystal. The more you use Severance, the stronger it gets. My grandmother's tales said such echoes can guide you… or possess you. We need to control it, or it might take over."
The words sent a chill down Kael's spine. He'd felt the shift—the dizziness, the alien thoughts that crept into his mind during the trial. "How do we control it?" he asked, his grip tightening on the crystal.
Lir flipped to a page marked with a faded sketch of a crystal similar to Kael's. "A binding ritual," he said. "It requires a focus—something personal, tied to your identity. And a partner to anchor you, to pull you back if the echo takes hold. It's risky, but it might stabilize the connection."
Elara stepped forward, her jaw set. "I'll do it," she said without hesitation. "You saved my neck in the labyrinth. I owe you. Besides, I want Aric to pay for Rylan."
Kael met her gaze, a silent agreement passing between them. "Thank you," he said. "We'll try it tonight. But first, we need a plan for the review. Thane, what did you hear?"
Thane, who had been nervously twisting the edge of his cloak, straightened. "It's tomorrow," he said, his voice shaky. "The top ten are summoned to the Grand Hall for a 'performance assessment.' They'll test our magic, our loyalty. I overheard a proctor say they're bringing in royal mages to judge. If they suspect you, Kael, they'll probe deep."
Gav grunted, his massive frame shifting as he leaned against a table. "Then we make sure they don't suspect," he said. "We've got Mara's stealth, my strength, and Elara's fire. We can cover for you if you need to hide Severance."
Mara nodded, her scarred face set in a grim smile. "I can rig a distraction—something to throw off their scans. But we'll need to coordinate perfectly."
The group spent the morning refining their strategy. Kael practiced basic fire magic with Elara, masking his Severance with her flames, while Lir worked on a subtle illusion spell to blur his magical signature. Gav and Mara scouted the Grand Hall, mapping exits and weak points, returning with news of increased guard presence. Thane gathered rumors from the lower ranks, learning that the royal mages were led by Lord Varn, whose disdain for Kael was well-known.
As night fell, they returned to the greenhouse for the binding ritual. Lir drew a circle of runes on the floor with chalk scavenged from the gardens, placing the crystal at its center. Kael sat within, Elara kneeling opposite him, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. The air grew thick with magic as Lir chanted, the runes glowing faintly.
"Focus on who you are," Lir instructed. "Your past, your purpose. Elara, guide him back if he strays."
Kael closed his eyes, the crystal's pulse syncing with his heartbeat. He pictured Veyrin Hold—the slums where he'd scavenged, the burned ruins of his home, and his mother's face as she taught him Severance in secret. The echo surged, visions flooding his mind: his ancestor leading a rebellion against the Vaelthars, the ritual's betrayal, a throne stained with blood. The voice grew louder, commanding him to rise, to claim what was his.
"Kael," Elara's voice cut through, firm and grounding. "Stay with me. You're not them—you're you."
He clung to her voice, fighting the echo's pull. The crystal flared, its energy binding with his will, and the visions receded. When he opened his eyes, the dizziness was gone, replaced by a clarity he hadn't felt before. The echo was still there, but it was subdued, a tool rather than a master.
"It worked," Lir said, relief in his voice. "The binding's holding—for now. But don't overuse Severance. The echo will test you again."
The group rested briefly and then prepared for the review. The next morning, they entered the Grand Hall, its vaulted ceilings echoing with the murmurs of nobles and the hum of royal magic. The top ten stood in a line, Kael flanked by Elara and Gav, his hood pulled low. Lord Varn presided, his sneer fixed on Kael, while three royal mages—clad in gold-trimmed robes—circulated with enchanted orbs that scanned for magical traces.
The assessment began with a duel. Kael faced a noble from House Lirien, his ice magic a flurry of shards. Elara's distraction—a burst of fire near the mages—drew their attention, allowing Kael to use a weak flame spell, masking Severance as he unraveled the ice. The noble faltered, yielding, and the crowd murmured.
Varn stepped forward, his orb glowing as it hovered over Kael. "An impressive façade," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "But let's see your true power." The orb pulsed, its light intensifying, searching for Severance.
Mara's distraction kicked in—a rigged table collapsing with a crash, scattering papers and drawing the mages' focus. Kael felt the orb's probe weaken, and with Lir's illusion blurring his signature, he passed the scan. The review continued, each test a tense dance of deception, but Kael's team held firm.
As the final judgment approached, Aric emerged, his golden eyes locked on Kael. "You've evaded us so far," he said, his voice a low threat. "But the next trial will be your end." He turned to the mages, who nodded, declaring the top ten confirmed—Kael among them.
The hall emptied, but Kael's relief was short-lived. A note slipped into his hand, its royal shimmer unmistakable: "Meet me at midnight. The throne awaits. -Dorian." The echo stirred, whispering of power, and Kael knew the fight for his destiny was far from over.