The sun had risen fully now, scattering light over the floating platforms like shards of gold across glass. Lyria stood at the edge of the training field, her arms sore, muscles tight from the previous exercises she did earlier,her spark flickering faintly beneath her collarbone. The warmth of it was comforting, but today's test, the instructors had warned, would push her far beyond simple control she had experienced before.
"This is not just skill," Kairo's voice carried across the platforms, calm but sharp. "This is awareness, trust, and adaptation. One misstep today could cost you more than your standing."
Her stomach twisted. More than my standing? I can't fail. Not today. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, taking in the metallic glint of the platforms, the faint hum of the training drones hovering in formation, and the distant shimmer of Aurelia's city below.
The first obstacle was deceptively simple: a single large drone, polished and gleaming, with smaller drones flitting unpredictably around it. The goal was to guide them across the platforms without colliding or losing control.
Lyria raised her hands instinctively, sparks flaring along her fingertips. The moment her spark reacted, a small drone shot toward the edge of the platform. Her chest tightened, breath catching.
"Breathe," Kairo called, leaping to intercept the rogue drone with a precise flick of his Sky Blade. The metallic drone righted itself under his careful guidance.
Her heartbeat thundered. I almost ruined it. One mistake… and— She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus. Control, not panic. Flow, not fear.
Closing her eyes, she let the spark settle, syncing with the rhythm of her pulse. Slowly, the drones adjusted to her energy, forming arcs of golden light that moved in harmony with Kairo's blades. The platform beneath her feet swayed slightly, reminding her of how precarious balance truly was.
"Good," Kairo said, his voice calm. "Now maintain that while anticipating the next sequence."
Another wave of drones erupted from the central unit, moving faster and more erratically than before. Lyria felt the familiar spike of panic in her chest. One misstep, one misjudged flare, and disaster would follow. Her palms were slick with sweat; the spark beneath her collarbone throbbed as if aware of her fear.
"Trust yourself," Kairo said, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. The warmth of it grounded her, anchoring her to the moment. "Trust your spark. Trust me."
She exhaled, letting the panic slip away, focusing on flow rather than reaction. Slowly, the drones stabilized, responding to subtle pulses rather than jerky movements. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, exhaustion mingled with exhilaration.
A faint laugh escaped her lips. "I… did it," she whispered, disbelief in her voice.
"You did," Kairo said quietly. "Not through sheer force, but through awareness and control. That's what matters."
Her muscles burned, sweat slicked her hair to her forehead, but she felt a quiet pride swelling in her chest. For the first time, she realized that her spark wasn't just a chaotic force — it was a partner, one she could guide and trust if she let go of fear.
The next challenge involved multiple platforms connected in a zigzag pattern, each shifting slightly underfoot. Lyria's pulse quickened. She had to navigate the drones across them, adjusting for unpredictable gusts of wind and sudden tilts of the platforms. One misstep, and everything — drones, spark, balance — could collapse.
"Move carefully," Kairo instructed. "Observe. Adjust. Anticipate."
She focused on his subtle cues: a tilt of his blade, the way his stance shifted, the slight breath before he moved. Step by step, she guided her drones, letting the energy flow naturally. Sparks flickered and swirled, golden arcs dancing in harmony with her movements, with Kairo's movements, with the rhythm of her heartbeat.
A sudden gust of wind knocked a smaller drone off course. Lyria's stomach lurched. She faltered, nearly sending it into the void below. Kairo's hand shot out, steadying it midair.
"Focus," he said softly. "Recover, adjust, continue. One mistake isn't the end — it's the lesson."
Exhaling slowly, Lyria adjusted, guiding the drones with careful precision. She realized something profound: fear was inevitable, but she could respond to it, channel it, instead of letting it control her.
By the final platform, her chest burned, arms trembling from exertion, spark glowing faintly but steadily. She collapsed to her knees, breath ragged, exhilaration and relief mingling in a tight knot in her chest.
Kairo crouched beside her, eyes scanning the field. "You've grown," he said softly. "Not just in skill, but in awareness, in trust — both in yourself and your spark. That's the most important lesson today."
She looked at him, the bond between them unspoken but palpable. The warmth that rose in her chest was not just from exertion — it was a quiet acknowledgment, a flicker of connection that made the day's trials feel… less lonely, more meaningful.
From the edges of the platforms, some classmates whispered, nodded, or clapped softly. Lyria noticed them now, feeling the subtle human element of shared experience. They weren't just spectators; they were witnesses, part of this early stage of growth.
She inhaled deeply, tasting the crisp air and the metallic tang of magic. The spark beneath her collarbone pulsed steadily, alive, responsive, and… hopeful.
For the first time, Lyria believed in her ability to face challenges, not because she was perfect, but because she could learn, adapt, recover, and trust.
Kairo stood, offering a rare small smile. "Rest. Reflect. Tomorrow, we build on this. You're ready for what comes next right?."
Above them, the sky stretched endlessly, gold and silver mingling across the horizon. Lyria felt small, yes, but infinite — terrified, exhilarated, and ready for everything the Academy had in store.
Her spark flickered brighter, steady, alive. And in that quiet pulse, she found a courage she hadn't known she possessed.