The Trials of Flame

The Grand Arcanum rose from the heart of a vast caldera like a fortress carved by gods. Obsidian towers stretched toward the heavens, wreathed in spiraling motes of energy. Floating bridges connected structures suspended in midair, held aloft by ancient spells older than recorded time. Elemental banners rippled in magical winds—flame, stone, ice, storm, and shadow—all dancing around a central spire that touched the clouds.

Kael stared, awestruck, as the crimson-robed sorcerer led him through the obsidian gate.

The man had introduced himself on the journey as Master Rynas, a senior mage of the Arcanum’s Conclave. He spoke little, but his presence alone commanded attention. He had conjured food from light, created a floating carriage of pure wind, and whispered to stones to open hidden roads. Kael had never seen power like it.

The moment they passed through the gate, Kael felt it: a pressure in the air, like the whole world was humming. Magic saturated everything—the stones beneath his boots, the very air he breathed. His skin tingled. The pendant around his neck pulsed in time with his heartbeat.

“You will be tested,” Rynas said, his voice echoing unnaturally across the grand corridor. “All who enter the Arcanum must earn their place.”

Kael swallowed hard. “And if I fail?”

Rynas stopped and turned, eyes sharp as knives.

“Then you are not worthy to be here. The Arcanum trains only those strong enough to survive the weight of magic. Weakness is not tolerated.”

They entered a great chamber—a vast, circular arena carved from black marble. Arcane sigils floated in the air, slowly rotating in glowing rings. Dozens of young men and women stood there, some his age, some older. They wore simple robes, and like Kael, many looked nervous. A few glanced at him—dirty, travel-worn, with eyes like burning coals—and quickly looked away.

A tall woman with silver eyes and a cloak of feathers stepped into the center of the arena.

“I am Magistra Elithra,” she announced, voice booming with magic. “Welcome, initiates. Today, you stand at the threshold of the Trials. Pass, and you will become acolytes of the Arcanum. Fail, and you will be escorted out—if you survive.”

Several students flinched. One tried to speak, but was silenced with a flick of Elithra’s fingers.

“There are no second chances. The Trials test your affinity, your instinct, and your will. They are designed to draw out the truth of your soul.”

The floor of the arena shimmered. Sections dropped away, revealing floating platforms arranged in spirals. Runes ignited in blazing colors—fire-red, sky-blue, shadow-violet, and more. Kael felt heat rise from below.

“Each of you will face the Trial of Flame,” Elithra continued. “Step forward when your name is called. Survive the fire. Control it. Or be consumed by it.”

One by one, students were summoned. The first—a confident boy named Tharen—descended onto a platform surrounded by walls of flame. He conjured a shield of water and walked calmly through, earning a nod from the instructors.

Others were not so lucky.

A girl screamed as the fire leapt toward her, her panicked shield faltering. Mages rushed to douse her robes. Another boy froze completely and was dragged away before the flames could reach him.

Then the name rang out like a thunderclap: “Kael of Elden Hollow.”

He stepped forward.

The world narrowed as he descended to the central platform. Flames circled him like hungry wolves. There were no instructions. No rules. Just fire—and silence.

Kael breathed deeply.

His mother’s pendant burned against his chest.

He let go of fear.

He reached within himself, and the fire reached back.

It didn’t burn him—it danced for him.

The flames rose, then bent away as Kael stepped forward. He didn’t shield himself. He didn’t run. He embraced it. The fire twisted upward like a spiral, forming a blazing column that illuminated the entire arena. Runes ignited in the air above him.

He raised his hand—and the fire obeyed.

Gasps filled the chamber. Even Magistra Elithra leaned forward.

Then Kael dropped to one knee, exhausted—but smiling.

Silence held for a long moment. Then Elithra spoke.

“Affinity: Flame and Wind. Control: Intuitive. Spirit: Unbroken.”

She turned to Rynas.

“He’s not trained. How did he do that?”

Rynas only smiled.

“Because fire doesn’t need training. It needs purpose.”

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***