Jade
Fog clings to the mountainside as the first-year class gathers at the base of the Scorched Circles. I can barely see the Crown at the peak, wreathed in mist and warning.
Today, my stomach’s churning with more than just the usual pre-Kieran anxiety. Because two days of replaying Margot’s words—Logan and Callie, spending so much time together—has left me raw and distracted.
“Line up.” Kieran’s voice cuts through the morning chatter.
We scramble into formation, and I end up between Evie and Sam, who’s already sweating despite the cool air.
Kieran stands before us, arms crossed, his dark eyes sweeping over us like he’s calculating who’s going to fail first.
“It’s been one month since you arrived at Blaze Academy,” he begins. “One month of basic training. Of learning to throw a punch without breaking your own thumb, and of using fire to your advantage at every chance possible.”
Garrett shifts in the front row, and Nina glares at him.
“Recent events have reminded us that danger doesn’t wait for you to be ready.
” Kieran’s voice drops, and the reference to Miles hangs heavy in the air.
“Danger doesn’t care if you’ve had enough practice.
It doesn’t give a damn about your family name, your bloodline’s reputation, or your grade on your latest theoretical essay. ”
He glances at Evie, who holds his gaze without backing down.
“So, we’re accelerating your education.” He pulls a black notebook from inside his jacket. “Starting next week, you’ll compete in duels against each other. Real fights. Real consequences. Real rankings.”
Murmurs ripple through the group. Nina stands perfectly still, although her fingers twitch. Vera’s smirking, probably seeing this as her chance to prove superiority once and for all. Garrett’s puffing out his chest, as if he’s already won whatever challenge Kieran has planned for us.
“The rules are simple,” Kieran continues.
“Each week, you’ll face a different opponent in one of the Scorched Circles.
First to yield or stay down for five seconds loses.
If the safety wards trigger, you’d be dead in real life, which means you’ll automatically lose here, too.
Win three matches to pass. Fail to reach three wins by semester’s end, and you’ll spend next semester on kitchen and grounds duty. ”
The punishment lands like a slap. Kitchen duty means scrubbing pots until your hands crack. Grounds duty means raking volcanic ash and polishing stones until you can see your own reflection.
All of it means less time to sleep, and less time to study. It’s basically like playing Blaze Academy on hard mode, which for me would translate to impossible mode.
“But—” Kieran’s smile turns sharp. “The student with the most wins gets an automatic A for the semester. No final paper. No practical exam.”
Now everyone’s paying attention. Although, what does it matter to me? There’s basically a zero percent chance I’ll get the most wins. The best I can hope for is not ending up with kitchen and grounds duty next semester. And even that would be a high, high hope.
“Refusal to fight means expulsion,” Kieran continues, his gaze sweeping over us again. “Throwing a match counts as refusal. And don’t for a second think you can fool me, because I know what real effort looks like versus playing dead.”
Vera smirks, as if she’d never dream of such a thing. Which, to be fair, she wouldn’t.
Kieran gives her a small nod of acknowledgment, then returns his attention to the rest of us. “You can train here until ten each night. Get caught after that, and you’ll answer to the proctor.” He pauses. “The real one, once he returns next week.”
My chest tightens at the mention of Logan.
Then Evie takes a small step forward, her head held high, and Kieran looks at her to speak. “What if instead of kitchen and grounds duty, the more academically inclined students could submit research papers on combat theory?” she asks.
“No alternatives.” Kieran’s voice is flat. “Three wins, or kitchen and grounds duty.”
The dismissal should end it, but I can see Evie’s mind racing, calculating angles like this is an advanced math problem to solve.
“Could we earn partial credit by analyzing other students’ fighting techniques?” Her words tumble out faster now. “Like a written assessment of combat strategies, or—”
“No.”
“But historical precedent shows that magical institutions often allowed theoretical examinations for students who—”
“This isn’t a history class, Thorne.” Kieran walks toward her, each step slow and deliberate.
The rest of us shift back, creating space.
When Kieran stops directly in front of Evie, her breath quickens. “You’re terrified of losing,” he says simply.
Pink floods Evie’s cheeks, but she doesn’t back down. “I’m simply suggesting that different students have different strengths.”
“Your fear is making you weak before you’ve even started.” His voice drops, becoming almost intimate. “Fear of failure. Fear of not being perfect. Fear of getting your hands dirty.”
“That’s not—“
“Let’s see if we can fix that.” He turns on his heel. “Fury Loop. Now.”
My stomach drops. The Fury Loop amplifies emotions. Whatever you’re feeling becomes a weapon or a weakness, magnified until you can’t hide from it. Not even the strongest magic users can resist its effects completely.
Evie’s shoulders straighten—apparently ignoring her far from favorable odds—and she follows Kieran up toward the fifth circle.
The rest of us trail behind like we’re watching a car crash in slow motion.
The Fury Loop is about sixty feet across, its burnt red rock making it look like a desert without sand.
Cracks in the rocks show where students throughout the years have lost control.
And the moment Kieran and Evie step inside, the air changes as the atmosphere becomes denser, charged with potential.
“First to yield or stay down loses.” Kieran shrugs off his jacket, revealing a fitted black shirt that shows off every inch of his perfectly lean muscle.
“What about—”
Evie doesn’t get a chance to finish, because Kieran flows like water and strikes like lightning.
Evie barely dodges his first attack, stumbling back with a yelp.
“Sloppy.” He circles her, his eyes glinting in a ray of sunlight that peeks through the fog. “Stop thinking. You need to react.”
His next attack brings him close enough that they’re almost chest to chest. But she spins away, which makes him blink, and then he’s caught off guard.
“Interesting,” he murmurs, and there’s something different in his voice now. Rougher.
Evie’s eyes flash. “Don’t mock me.”
“I’m not mocking.” He catches her wrist as she tries to strike, pulling her off balance. “I’m observing.”
“Let go,” she breathes.
“Make me.”
The challenge hangs heavy between them. Then Evie steps closer, using his grip as leverage to hook her leg behind his knee.
They both go down, but Kieran twists at the last second, taking the impact on his shoulder and rolling with her so she lands on top. For a moment, they’re frozen like that, staring at each other like they’ve just discovered something shocking.
“Yield,” Evie whispers, but it sounds more like a question than a demand.
Kieran’s hands come up to rest on her hips, steadying her. “No.”
In one fluid motion, he reverses their positions, flipping her onto her back with controlled force and holding her down.
“One,” he counts, his voice steady. “Two. Three.”
Evie bucks beneath him, trying to throw him off, but he’s got leverage and experience on his side.
“Four.”
Her hands come up to grab his wrist, but his free hand catches both of hers, pinning them above her head against the ground.
“Five.” His smile is sharper than ever. “You’ve lost.”
The moment he releases her, Evie gasps like she’s been underwater. Kieran stands in one smooth motion, not even breathing hard, while Evie stays on the ground for a moment longer, catching her breath.
His eyes are hard as he stares down at her. “The Fury Loop doesn’t care what you’re feeling,” he says. “Anger, fear, desire… all emotions are weaknesses if you can’t control them.”
He extends a hand to help her up, and after a moment’s hesitation, she takes it. Once she’s standing, he turns back to face the rest of the class.
“Lauren Mitchell,” he says. “You’re up. Smoke Spire.”
Lauren steps forward with more confidence than I’d have in her position, and as we head down to the second circle, I hurry to Evie’s side.
“The Fury Loop messes with everyone.” I touch her arm gently, remembering the heated way she and Kieran kept looking at each other. “Although… you are blushing pretty hard right now.”
“I hate the Fury Loop.” She finally looks at me, her expression equal parts mortified and defiant. “But for a second in there, I felt... powerful. Like I could actually fight back. And I liked how it felt to be dangerous, even though I obviously never was. At least, not against him.”
She shoots Kieran an evil look, even though he’s leading us down the slick steps, so his back is toward us.
“You know…” I bump her shoulder, giving her a knowing smile. “When you hooked his leg and took him down, you looked like a total badass.”
That startles a laugh out of her, and some of the tension in her shoulders eases. “Thanks, Jade.”
“For what?”
“For making jokes instead of judgments.”
“You’re my closest friend here,” I tell her, surprised by the raw honesty in my words. “I’m always on your side.”
“Right back at you,” she says, and we share another smile before Felix comes and joins us for the rest of the hike down.
As class continues, most of us last even less time than Evie did, although Nina manages almost a full minute through sheer technical skill. Each fight is a lesson in how emotion becomes liability—anger making strikes wild, fear making movements predictable, and pride making defenses sloppy.
Kieran puts me in the Siphon Sphere, which I’m grateful for, since it drains my magic. The longer you stay, the weaker you become, making it less likely for me to reveal my electricity in front of the class.
I always end up in circles that don’t reveal my electricity. The Void Pit, the Siphon Sphere, the Smoke Spire… it’s almost as if Kieran’s in on helping me hide what I truly am. I haven’t had to step foot in the Ember Ring or the Fury Loop once.
When class is over, he announces our rankings. I’m third to last. But hey, it could be worse, right?
“I suggest you spend the next week preparing,” he reminds us when he’s done. “Because on Thursday, the real matches begin.”