The library was hushed after training, candlelight flickering against the shelves. Layla had already slipped away, and Iman lingered near the balcony, her thoughts heavy.
At the long table, Lucien, Dorian, and Professor Alaric remained.
Alaric's voice was calm, but his words carried weight. "Iman and Layla... both show promise. Yet one is bond by emotion, the other by ambition. Which do you think will endure?"
Lucien's jaw tightened. "Iman's strength isn't power. It's heart. That's what makes her different."
Dorian leaned back, thoughtful. "Layla is clever, but she hides too much. Iman wears her soul openly. That can be dangerous... or powerful."
Alaric's gaze lingered on Lucien. "And you, Lucien, are too entangled. Bonds cloud judgment. The Order will not tolerate weakness."
Lucien's eyes narrowed. "Protecting her isn't weakness."
The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken challenge.
Alaric's faint smile did not reach his eyes. "We shall see. The trials ahead will reveal who is truly worthy."
Dorian glanced between them, sensing the storm growing. "Then let the trials speak. Until then, we stand together."
Lucien's hand curled into a fist beneath the table, his decision hardening. He would not let Alaric's words shake him.
From balcony, Iman returned quietly, unaware of the conversation that had just unfolded.
Alaric's eyes followed her, unreadable. Lucien's gaze, however, was steady - protective, unyielding.
The air between them was charged, the first sparks of a conflict that would soon ignite.