Luke didn't ask to be chosen.
The Hollow Trial was a serious thing—an official magical rite taken outside Crystal College grounds, meant for advanced students nearing the end of their studies. There were lectures devoted to preparing for it. Simulations. Sponsorships. Months of planning. Luke had done none of that.
So when his name appeared—etched in silver fire across the crystal wall in the Hall of Selection—it drew more than a few stares.
Luke Everen. Candidate – Hollow Trial.
The glow pulsed faintly in the stone, and for a few seconds, the room held its breath.
Then came the noise.
Someone scoffed. Another laughed aloud.
"You've got to be joking."
"Is that real?"
"I thought they only picked people who've actually trained."
"That's the kid who melted Darian in the finals, right? What's his name again—Lupas something?"
"Oh, him. Luke. The quiet one with the freak spells."
"He's strong, sure, but he's just a first-year. He's going to die out there."
Luke didn't respond. He didn't blink. He turned away from the wall and walked out without saying a word.
Later, Cosima found him leaning against the railing beneath the southern bridge, where wind-chimes made of spellglass hummed faint notes into the early light. She didn't ask anything. Just passed him a warm pastry wrapped in cloth and leaned against the opposite rail.
"They must be curious," she said eventually. "Or desperate."
Luke stared out at the slow-swaying trees and didn't answer.
When he finally returned to the dorm, Amara was lying upside down on the couch, reading a battered book about mythical sea creatures and muttering insults under her breath.
He dropped the selection letter onto the table.
She read it in silence.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. Then she flipped the book closed and swung upright.
"So," she said. "Do I come with you, or do I wait here with your dying plant and eat all your food while you're gone?"
He looked at her, calm as ever.
She raised one brow.
"I'm coming," she said. "Obviously."
The next morning, they crossed the academy grounds together and arrived at the outer gates just before sunrise. The other candidates were already gathered—three upper-year students in crisp travel robes, each armed, focused, and thoroughly unimpressed by the addition of Luke and a silver-haired girl in black who definitely wasn't registered.
One of the professors, an older man with too much badge and not enough patience, frowned at them.
"She's not on the exam manifest."
Luke didn't stop walking.
"She is now," he said.
Amara smiled sweetly at the professor as she passed. The scrying orb above the gate pulsed once, accepted her presence, and did not challenge it.
The other candidates muttered among themselves. One of them smirked. Another said something under his breath about "pets."
Amara heard, but didn't bother turning. They weren't worth wasting her time.
The gate creaked open. Beyond it, the forest trail stretched into mist and distant hills, quiet and still.
Luke stepped forward without hesitation. Amara followed, without needing to be asked. Whatever the trial held, they would face it together.