The Binding Circle

Kael wasn’t sure what was worse—the stares, or the silence. Both followed him through the corridors of Corvenmere like ghosts. He could feel every gaze, every whispered fear clinging to the hem of his coat.

He didn’t care.

But Lucien’s eyes?

Lucien’s eyes burned.

Kael had felt them all through breakfast. Judging. Measuring. Wanting.

And that made things dangerous.

The first joint spellcasting class was held in the Chamber of Embers—a vast circular hall lined with obsidian pillars, runes carved deep into the stone. Every student in Year Seven was present, lined in opposing pairs around a blazing ring of fire.

At the center, Professor Elaris floated slightly above the ground, her robes crackling with wardlight. “Today,” she said, voice sharp, “you’ll form your first Binding Circle. Trust is required. Balance is essential. Failure means injury—or worse.”

Her eyes gleamed. “You will be paired.”

Groans filled the room. Everyone knew Binding Circles weren’t just magic. They exposed your thoughts, feelings, memories—stripped you to your soul.

Lucien remained still, though his pulse ticked under his skin like a countdown.

“Kael Virellian. Lucien Astor. Center ring.”

A collective gasp echoed.

Lucien rose like a prince summoned to execution. Kael stepped in with a predator’s ease, hands in pockets, silver eyes unreadable.

They faced one another inside the circle. Runes ignited around them. The room dimmed. All fell silent.

“Begin,” said Elaris.

Lucien drew his wand, elegant and sleek. Kael raised his hand, no wand at all—his magic shimmered from his fingertips like ink in water.

They began the rite.

Their energies clashed instantly—Lucien’s sharp, radiant, controlled. Kael’s wild, shadowed, and brutal. The air thickened. The flames pulsed.

Lucien narrowed his eyes. “You’re holding back.”

Kael smirked. “Afraid I’ll see something you don’t want me to?”

“You wish.”

The next moment, Lucien stepped forward, thrusting magic into the circle. His power surged—sunlight and steel. Kael met it with raw shadow, tendrils of darkness wrapping around Lucien’s light like vines strangling gold.

Their hands brushed.

And everything broke open.

Images flooded between them. Flashes of Kael as a child, blood on snow. Lucien standing over a grave, tears burning his cheeks. Screams. Fire. Shadows clawing at a cracked mirror.

Kael gasped.

Lucien staggered back.

The circle shattered with a sound like glass breaking in the soul. Both boys dropped to one knee, breathing hard, eyes wide.

Around them, the flames died.

The class stared in silence.

Professor Elaris descended, brows knit. “That—was not failure. That was… a resonance.”

Lucien’s hand trembled.

Kael stood first, brushing soot from his coat. He turned to Lucien, voice low, steady. “We’re not finished.”

Lucien looked up, something dark and uncertain in his gaze. “No,” he whispered. “We’re just beginning.”

To be continued

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