The dawn bells of Heaven's School rang deeper than usual, reverberating through the marble corridors and crystalline spires. Elira sat up quickly, heart already racing. This was no ordinary day.
Her roommates stirred as the sound grew louder, vibrating through the Phoenix Wing dormitory. Kaela sat up first, hair sticking out wildly. "That's it, isn't it? Trial day!"
Lyssandra was already half dressed, tying her cloak with precision. "It seems the schedule has arrived sooner than expected."
Selene said nothing, though her golden eyes gleamed with something unreadable as she fastened her sash.
Elira's Arcanum Band pulsed faintly at her wrist, a glowing notification scrolling across its surface: FIRST TRIAL – ATTEND THE HALL OF FLAMES.
Her chest tightened. She had felt restless all night, her fire humming beneath her skin. Now it felt like it had been waiting for this moment.
The Trial Hall stood at the heart of Heaven's School, a massive structure carved of white stone and enchanted crystal. Its arched doors towered high enough for giants, runes spiraling upward like fire climbing the sky.
Students from all four wings gathered before it—Phoenix in red, Leviathan in blue, Gryphon in silver, Basilisk in green. Their cloaks rippled in the morning wind, creating a sea of shifting color.
Professors lined the steps. Among them, Aurist raised his staff, his voice booming.
"Today, you face your first trial. It is not merely combat, but a test of spirit, discipline, and flame. You will enter the chambers of fire and confront what lies within. Only those who master themselves may pass."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some looked eager, others pale.
Beside her, Marcell gave Elira a quick smile, though his hand tightened on the hilt of his practice blade. "Guess this is it."
Adryan smirked from a few paces away, fire already flickering along his fingers. "Finally something worth my time."
Elira swallowed hard.
The great doors opened with a groan, heat spilling into the courtyard. Students were called in by groups, names glowing across their Arcanum Bands.
When Elira's name appeared, she stepped forward with her roommates—Kaela buzzing with excitement, Lyssandra composed, Selene silent. Marcell, called with Adryan and other Phoenix Wing boys, gave her a quick nod before vanishing into another corridor.
Inside, the Trial Hall split into countless glowing passageways, each leading into chambers crafted by illusion and enchantment.
A professor gestured. "Phoenix Wing, eastward."
The girls entered a spiraling corridor of firelit stone, walls etched with runes that pulsed as if alive. At the end, the path split, each chamber awaiting a student alone.
Kaela grinned nervously. "See you on the other side."
Elira managed a smile. "Good luck."
Then she stepped into her chamber.
Heat hit her first—oppressive, stifling. The chamber stretched wide, its floor a circle of etched runes, its ceiling hidden in smoke. At the center burned a flame, hovering in midair, flickering like a heartbeat.
A voice echoed, not from outside but within the chamber itself.
Prove your flame. Master it—or be consumed.
Elira's throat tightened. The flame pulsed, then split into smaller sparks, circling her like predators. They lashed forward, searing hot, forcing her to summon her own fire in defense.
She inhaled, calling her golden flame. It roared to life, wrapping her in warmth. She deflected the sparks, pushed them back, but the more she fought, the more the flame resisted.
Control. Control.
Sweat beaded on her brow. Her flame answered too eagerly, growing wild, surging higher. For a heartbeat, it burst out—not golden, but radiant, forming wings of fire that stretched across the chamber.
Her knees nearly buckled. She tried to rein it back, but the flame screamed, alive in her chest, demanding release.
Whispers of Myth
The chamber itself seemed to shudder. The runes on the floor flared, straining to contain the surge.
And then, within the roar of her fire, a whisper slipped through.
Last heir… last flame…
Elira gasped, stumbling. She had never heard that voice before, low and ancient, threaded with power.
Her fire lashed upward, striking the chamber's ceiling. For a heartbeat, she thought she saw a shadow—a vast dragon-shaped silhouette coiling above her—before the flame collapsed back into embers.
She fell to one knee, trembling, her staff clattering to the ground.
The voice of the chamber returned, steady, almost approving.
Trial complete.
The central flame dimmed. The runes cooled. The door behind her creaked open.
Aftermath
Elira staggered out into the hall, chest heaving. Kaela was already there, soot smudging her cheek, grinning like she'd just survived a whirlwind. Lyssandra emerged soon after, composed but pale. Selene came last, golden eyes unreadable.
"You okay?" Kaela asked, frowning as she took in Elira's shaking hands.
"I'm fine," Elira lied quickly.
Marcell appeared with his group, Adryan swaggering beside him, both looking singed but exhilarated. Marcell's eyes caught hers, worry flickering there.
Adryan, though, looked at her with sharp interest. "Whatever happened in your chamber… it shook the walls. Don't think no one noticed."
Elira's stomach turned. She forced a glare, hiding the fear beneath. "Worry about yourself."
But his words lingered. Everyone noticed.
The Fire Within
That night, when she lay in bed again, her roommates asleep around her, Elira pressed a hand to her chest. The flame still throbbed, restless.
Last heir… last flame…
She shut her eyes, but the whisper echoed.
Not myth. Not illusion.
Something was stirring inside her, and no trial could silence it