The courtyard had never been so alive.
Every trainee gathered, forming a ring around the two who stepped into the center. Ashen sky above, the air thick with heat and anticipation. Dust swirled under restless feet, carried on the weight of expectation.
This was no trial assigned by the overseers. This was something rawer, truer. Rivalry. Pride. Destiny.
Veyron stood tall, shoulders squared, his aura already seeping into the world around him. A faint heat shimmer rippled the air, distorting the horizon. His eyes locked on Kael with burning clarity — not hatred, but demand.
"You've hidden long enough. Show me what you are."
Kael's shadow stretched longer than it should have, curling at the edges like smoke without fire. His breath was steady, his expression unreadable, though inside, the silence stirred like a caged beast. He didn't want this fight. But he needed it.
The crowd leaned in.
Darius muttered under his breath, "This is madness."
Rynna's hand hovered near her blade.
Jorek's eyes gleamed with a scholar's hunger, ink already staining his fingers.
And from the shadows, Ashen Vox watched, unreadable as ever.
The signal came not from a bell, nor a command. It came from fire.
Veyron lunged first, his fist wreathed in flame, the ground beneath him blackening with each stride. The sheer force of his resonance distorted the air. His strike wasn't aimed to kill, but to prove.
Kael raised his hand.
The world shuddered.
The flame's roar collapsed into nothing, soundless, motionless. For a split second, the fiery fist froze mid-air, like a painting. Veyron's eyes widened as he felt it — the stillness, the suffocation. Then Kael faltered, the silence cracking, and time lurched forward again.
The fist grazed Kael's cheek, heat searing his skin. He staggered back, breath ragged.
Uncontrolled. Dangerous.
Veyron smirked. "So that's your abyss."
He pressed forward, strikes raining like meteors. Each punch left afterimages of flame, heat scorching the air, ground cracking beneath his feet. Kael dodged, barely, silence bursting out in ragged waves. Each time, the world dulled — flames dimmed, motion slowed — but then his control slipped, and the inferno surged back.
The crowd roared, the clash blinding in its contrast: silence and fire, void and blaze.
Kael's chest heaved. His silence clawed at the edges of his mind, begging to be unleashed. He couldn't hold back forever. Vox's words echoed in him: "Do not tame it. Shape it."
Veyron's next strike was different. He planted his feet, drew his power inward, and with a guttural shout unleashed a torrent — a wall of flame that surged like a living beast, racing to devour everything in its path.
The crowd shrieked and scattered from the sheer heat.
Kael didn't move. He couldn't.
If he ran, he'd be consumed.
If he faltered, he'd be broken.
So he let go.
The silence burst outward, not wild, not formless — but sharpened into a barrier, a void that devoured sound, heat, and motion. The torrent of flame slammed into it and died. Fire froze mid-roar, collapsing into cinders that fell soundlessly to the ground.
For a heartbeat, the courtyard was still.
No crackle. No cheer. Not even breath.
Just silence.
Kael's knees buckled. Blood dripped from his nose, his body trembling under the strain. He couldn't hold it long. But for that instant, he stood against Veyron's fire.
The flame-wielder's eyes widened — and then, slowly, he grinned. Not in mockery, but in exhilaration.
"Yes. That's it."
He reignited, aura blazing brighter than ever. Kael steadied himself, darkness curling at his fingertips. The fight wasn't over. This was only the beginning.
And above them, Vox's shadow shifted ever so slightly, his whisper carrying on the void Kael had created:
"Good… now drown him."