The next morning, Lyra dragged Corren halfway across Duskharrow before he could finish his excuse about needing to work.
"Your shift doesn't start until noon," she said, not slowing down.
"I could pick up extra hours. The rent is..."
"The rent can wait. This can't."
Corren tugged at his factory uniform, still reeking of oil and yesterday's humiliation. "Lyra, I can't just show up to Astralis Academy. I'm Fragile. Porous. They'll laugh me out before I reach the gates."
She stopped. Turned. Her eyes were steel. "Then let them laugh. You're still going."
He wanted to argue. Wanted to say that surviving the Awakening was bad enough without adding public rejection to the pile. But Lyra had that look. The one that said she'd drag him there by the collar if she had to.
So he followed.
The gates of Astralis Academy loomed before them: black iron worked with gold, inscribed with words that felt like judgment. "Only the worthy endure."
Corren's stomach twisted. Hundreds of hopefuls filled the courtyard. Nobles in crimson and silver. Commoners in patched jackets. All of them staring at the massive doors leading into the trial hall.
"This is insane," Corren muttered.
Lyra didn't answer. She was already walking toward the entrance.
A sleek car pulled up to the gates. The door opened, and Darius stepped out, dressed in tailored robes embroidered with the Flamesworth sigil. He straightened his collar, then his eyes found Corren.
He grinned. "Lyra. I see you brought your charity case."
"Corren's taking the trial," Lyra said flatly.
Darius blinked. Then laughed. "You're serious?"
"Do I joke?"
His gaze slid to Corren, taking in the oil-stained uniform, the exhaustion written into his face. "This'll be entertaining."
Before Corren could respond, a voice echoed across the courtyard.
"Candidates. Enter."
The doors to the trial hall swung open.
Inside, thousands packed the hall. Stone pillars held up vaulted ceilings. Chandeliers of crystallized Veil energy cast fractured light across the sea of faces. Nobles clustered in groups, their confidence radiating like heat. Commoners huddled at the edges, trying to look like they belonged.
At the far end of the hall, a man stood on a raised platform. Tall. Silver hair swept back. Sharp eyes that seemed to catalogue every person in the room.
Gladius.
The famous and renowned prodigy of Veilcraft. One of youngest Master Vailcrafter . His presence filled the hall like a drawn blade.
"On your sixteenth birthdays," Gladius began, his voice carrying effortlessly, "your Veil is decided for you by the constellations above us. You might have thought that it was going to decide your destiny. And it kind of did." He paused. "But in the coming days, you will be tested and tried to see if your destiny is to be great and a fortress for this world, or simply a fleeting life that leaves no legacy."
He gestured broadly. "This year, we have so much talent that we've decided to include a special surprise for the first challenge."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"This competition will be in three phases," Gladius continued. "The first is going to be a written exam on your knowledge of Veilcraft. The second will be a test of physical aptitude. And the last, the most acclaimed competition of the year, will be a test of power: surviving in a Rift."
The hall buzzed with excitement and fear.
Gladius smiled faintly. "But before any of that, we filter. Call it an... appetizer"
He gestured toward the far side of the hall. A shimmering barrier stretched across the width of the room, faint and translucent, humming with energy.
"Your first test is simple. Cross the barrier and come towards me. It responds to Veil pressure. The stronger your Veil, the easier the passage. The weaker your Veil..." He let the sentence hang. "Well. You probably should start packing."
He stepped aside. "Begin."
The nobles moved first. They strode toward the barrier with the kind of arrogance that came from knowing they'd pass. One by one, they stepped through. Some felt resistance, a brief flicker of pressure, but they pushed through and emerged on the other side without breaking stride.
Darius walked to the barrier. Paused. Flames flickered faintly around his shoulders. Then he stepped through like it was air.
He turned back, grinning at the crowd still waiting. "What's taking so long?"
The commoners started next. A boy with a Stone Veil pressed his hand against the barrier. His face twisted with effort. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Slowly, agonizingly, he forced his way through. He collapsed on the other side, gasping.
Others followed. Some made it. Most didn't.
A girl touched the barrier and was thrown back, crashing into the crowd behind her.
Another boy tried three times before giving up, shoulders slumped, walking away in silence.
Corren watched them fail. Watched the barrier reject them like it was sorting wheat from chaff.
He didn't move.
"Corren," Lyra said quietly.
He shook his head. "I can't."
"You haven't tried."
"I don't need to try. Look at them." He gestured to the commoners being thrown back. "My Veil is Fragile. Porous. I won't even make it halfway."
Lyra stepped in front of him. Her voice dropped, urgent. "Corren. Listen to me."
He met her eyes.
"I need you to believe in me," she said. Her voice carried a weight he'd never heard before. "And if you can't believe in yourself, then believe in yourself through me. This isn't an order. It's a plea."
There was something raw in her tone. Emotion she didn't usually let show.
She turned and walked toward the barrier.
Her Veil flared. Silver light coiled around her wrists. She stepped through without hesitation.
Corren stood frozen. His heart pounded. Around him, commoners were being rejected, their dreams crushed in seconds.
He closed his eyes.
Believe in her. Believe through her.
He walked forward. One step. Two. The barrier loomed ahead, shimmering with power.
He took a few more steps.
He stopped. Confused. His eyes were still closed. Had he gone the wrong direction? Missed the barrier entirely?
He opened his eyes.
He was on the other side.
Beside Lyra.
The hall exploded.
"WHAT?!"
"How did he...?"
"That's the Fragile one!"
"He didn't even struggle!"
"IT'S NOT FAIR!"
Commoners screamed in protest. Nobles shouted accusations. The noise swelled into chaos, voices crashing over each other in waves of anger and disbelief.
Darius stared, speechless.
Gladius raised one hand.
Silence fell like a guillotine.
He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the crowd, then landing on Corren. His expression was unreadable.
"The barrier doesn't test strength," Gladius said slowly, his voice cutting through the lingering tension. "It tests truth. It shows you as you are. Not what you pretend to be."
He let the words settle.
"Whatever truth this boy carries, it was enough."
He turned back to the crowd. "The first test is complete. Those who passed, remain. Those who did not, leave."
The rejected candidates filed out in silence. The hall felt smaller now. Emptier.
Darius finally moved. He strode toward Corren, eyes blazing. "What did you?"
Lyra stepped between them. Her gaze was cold. Sharp.
Darius stopped. His jaw tightened. But he didn't push.
He turned and walked away.
Corren stood beside Lyra, his heart still racing, his Veil flickering faintly at his skin.
He didn't understand what had just happened.
But the fractures in his Veil pulsed softly.