CHAPTER 50
The stadium had fallen into a reverent silence.
A dome of translucent psychic sigils shimmered at the far end of the arena, glowing like a slumbering star, pulsing gently with anticipation.
This was no ordinary magical test-it was the Inner Sanctum Trial.
An arcane relic from the Founding Era, it had only recently been reconstructed under Headmaster Daevyn's supervision, and only the most gifted students would ever witness it, let alone face it.
Vice Master Caelion stepped forward, eyes scanning the rows of seated spectators. His voice, low and steady, was amplified by enchantment.
The students looked at one another uneasily. Some gripped the edge of their seats. Others scoffed, unsure if this was just another elaborate scare tactic.
Professor Vyran stood beside the Headmaster, his arms crossed tightly.
The dome shimmered and the first name was called.
The sigils rippled and a projection appeared, hovering like mist caught in a beam of moonlight.
It showed a cold, vast hall made of obsidian stone and velvet-lined furniture.
At the center sat a small boy-Zarethian, years younger-cross-legged on a marble floor.
Scattered around him were books, miniature metal soldiers, and an enchanted dragon toy that wheezed sparks.
The child stared silently at a grand doorway.
The child's voice was so small it nearly vanished under the echo of emptiness.
Present Zarethian stood inside the chamber, his breathing shallow. His fists trembled, eyes locked onto the memory. The illusion blurred briefly-his young self waiting on the day his mother died.
Flames curled up his arms.
His tears broke as he saw his younger self waiting patiently for his own mother. While he's being burried by his memory, a light appeared with a hand-offering.
He stepped forward and knelt before the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder.
The projection flickered again. A dim, narrow house materialized-wooden walls, peeling paint. A woman stood above a trembling child, hand raised.
A sharp crack echoed.
Silas's breath hitched. Inside the trial, he watched his younger self flinch and shrink away.
The present Silas watched as the scene continuesly go on from those moments that her mother laid her fingers to him-beating and punishing him for something he doesn't deserve to be blamed for.
Then.. a sudden light came, a hand from someone, offering it to his younger self.
Silas were stunned by this sight and was awakened at the same time.
He lifted his hand. A barrier-a soft, silver-blue dome-formed around the child version of him, catching the next blow.
The illusion began to waver as healing light poured outward from Silas's chest. The child stood, protected. The world inside the dome melted.
"He has the heart of a true shield." someone whispered from afar as if it's watching Silas.
..........
Waves crashed. A palace carved from sea crystals stood crumbling in the background. Celene knelt by a grave, her hands trembling.
Voices echoed all around.
Her brother's image lingered, faint and smiling in the sea mist.
The present Celene broke down as she watched her brother's grave being forgotten by the house and she wasn't even allowed to visit it again because of the heavy duties.
'Sorayael?' her thoughts.
Inside the chamber, Celene stood up for herself with her tearied eyes-then, suddenly, water rose around her in a gentle spiral. The sea answered.
The waters stilled. She walked out with silent grace, dripping seawater and sorrow.
............
But no one came for him, not even his uncles or aunts nor his grandfather.
Present Karsen exhaled slowly, his jaw tight.
It's not a practice that a younger one self should received. And the face of his brother that is openly mocking his abilities makes the present Karsen's blood boiled.
A light stirred from deep within his chest-an unfamiliar, yellow radiance, not of elemental magic, but of something older.
The entire chamber began to glow. Even the projection couldn't contain the surge. The illusion splintered like glass struck by a sunbeam.
He emerged slowly, blinking.
............
He was brought to his memory where he witnessed his brothers tormenting him.
The body of a bird-small, bright-feathered-lay broken on the ground. His older brother, sneering, dropped a rock beside it.
His younger self kneeled as he picked his bird-trembling and crying.
Kieran stood frozen, watching it all.
Then, he conjured a bow of radiant light.
His younger self turned, teary-eyed.
Kieran looked up and brushed off his tears.
'Right.. I guess you have my thanks, Sorayael.'
He fired a spectral arrow-not at anyone, but into the sky.
From it burst a constellation of birds, singing.
The chamber melted into stars.
He emerged, his head held high.
..........
The manor was silent. Her father sat with a girl across his lap-Annalin. They laughed together, chatting. He ruffled her hair like a father doting on his beloved daughter.
Ravelia stood at the door.
The younger Ravelia clenched her fists.
Inside the trial, present Ravelia approached her child-self and simply knelt.
'I was foolish to think that even if I excelled at everything, my father will come to love me' Ravelia said while tearing up and cried.
"Don't pour your love at the wrong people, Ravelia. Pour it to yourself instead."
'Or not?'
She looked at her younger self and smiled, tapping her back.
She placed a hand over the girl's heart. Light spread. The scene dissolved.
When Ravelia emerged, her spine was straight and chin lifted.
Zarethian looked her way for a moment longer than usual.
..........
There was fire, screams from people, and smoke.
His sister stood before him, arcane drawn, as soldiers from the Aethelgard Imperium surged forward.
Inside the trial, he collapsed to his knees.
A whisper on the wind: Live.
Golden light surrounded him. His magic ignited.
He stood, eyes hard. The illusion flared and vanished.
He emerged to stunned silence.
.........
Everyone returned. They walked to each other and gather.
Each of them returned but Sorayael did not return.
The sanctum pulsed.. and pulsed... and remained sealed.
Minutes passed.
Murmurs rippled.
One student rose. "This is a waste. Let's go-"
A thunderous crack split the sky.
A pillar of golden light surged upward from the dome, blinding and magnificent. Sigils ruptured. The arena trembled.
From the rift of light stepped Sorayael.
Silver hair glowing. Eyes lit with divine clarity. Her presence felt ancient.
Light curled around her like wings.
Even Vice Master Caelion staggered a step back.
Silas, breath caught: "She's... radiant."
Ravelia whispered, "What is she...?"
And Zarethian, watching her with narrowed eyes, felt something stir.
Something he hadn't felt since his mother's final day.
..............