Chapter 25 Ancient Magic
“Thalen wasn’t able to get into her head,” Jan said, practically vibrating with excitement. “I mean, it was obvious I couldn’t. I don’t have noble blood strong enough for deep truthfinding. But Thalen does, and he still couldn’t.”
Jan, Soehl, Shakari, Rowan, Tran, and I sat around a long oak table in the library, sunset pouring molten light across the stacks.
“It’s been two days, Jan. Get over it,” Shakari snapped, her patience, what little she ever had, already wearing thin.
Jan had spent the last forty-eight hours insisting my mental resistance had to be tied to some ancient, lost magical trace.
He hadn’t stopped talking about it since, which explained Shakari’s growing irritation.
And as ridiculous as it sounded… he wasn’t entirely wrong.
It was unheard of. I’d been turning it over in my mind for the past two days, circling the possibilities, but I couldn’t let myself go down that path, not with the Dragontail Trials looming so close.
My head didn’t have room for mysteries about me when survival was demanding all my focus.
“I had great tutors in the Glass Castle,” I added, trying to downplay my friend’s annoyance.
“He’s right,” Soehl murmured, eyes narrowed in thought. “I’ve been looking through records. This isn’t common. It’s… well, impossible.” There was intrigue and worry in her tone.
“Can we please just focus on studying?” I begged kindly, hating the feeling of being dissected. “The trials are weeks away. I need to prepare.”
Soehl looked like she wanted to argue, her mouth even parted but she swallowed it down and pivoted back to her mountain of books. No fewer than fifteen tomes surrounded her in uneven towers, making her look like she was studying inside a fortress of parchment.
“Yes, well, we Dragontail might die in just a few weeks trying to collect those stones,” Tran drawled, pushing his shock of red hair back with dramatic flair.
“They are not stones, idiot. They’re gems,” Shakari said. “I still don’t understand how you both are even related.” She aimed the comment at Rowan. Shakari was clearly not in a patient mood, which earned a snort from Rowan and made Tran sink back into his research.
While the rest of us searched through old trial logs to figure out what we might face in the Dragontail Trials, Soehl and Jan had been digging through every scrap of royal history they could get their hands on, determined to uncover the forgotten Dragontail Solenhart.
What began as Soehl’s research had turned into a full-fledged partnership.
Jan and Soehl were a duo now, inseparable, and if I wanted her help, I had to let Jan in on my truths, too.
So far, they’d tracked almost every Solenhart legion placement stored in the archive room, missing only four royals. Now they had moved on to Dragontail history itself, cross-referencing names, magical traces, and old photographs.
Still, the twins, Shakari, and I needed to study. The Dragontail Trials were almost here.
I reread the same three pages on the trials for what felt like the fiftieth time.
Even though I knew every word, I wanted each detail burned into my mind.
I hadn’t trained for these trials growing up, not the way the twins or Shakari had.
They’d memorized the rules as children. I was playing catch-up with an entire lineage.
The rules were simple. The reality was vicious.
The trials would be held every year on the day after the Solstice celebrations, when day and night had almost the same duration.
The Solstice was one of the most important celebrations for Moonveils and Sunhearts alike.
A day in which we would pay tribute to our Gods for sharing with us their love and magic.
The next day at sundown, each Dragontail first-year would be portaled somewhere deep in the King’s Forest. Each of us would receive only a map, a healing potion, and a clock.
No food, no water. The map would lead us to our three trials.
Many students failed before the trials even truly began; if you couldn’t orient yourself using the sun, moon, or stars, you would never reach your first test.
To pass, every Dragontail had to retrieve three gems.
The topaz—physical strength. The sapphire—mental ability.
The ruby—valor, earned at the end. The tests always came in that order.
The first trial seemed deceptively straightforward.
If you found the spot marked on your map, a second-year Dragontail would appear and challenge you.
No magic, only fists, endurance, and grit.
Survive long enough, and the island grants you the topaz.
Fail, and you were immediately dismissed from Dragontail.
The second trial was unpredictable and lethal.
Each location was unique, shaped by the island itself and often disturbingly personal.
It tested the magical traces within you, your inherent faction magic, shadow, or fire, whatever the Siren deemed necessary.
Not even the professors knew what test you would face.
I’d read of storm wielders forced to summon winds strong enough to twist the forest canopy, of water wielders commanded to swell the river until it overflowed, of fire wielders ordered to unleash heat that turned entire meadows into shimmering infernos.
And the danger wasn’t just your own test. The Dragontail Trials were feared because, while walking your path, you could be caught inside someone else’s trial. A storm might crash through the treetops without warning. A flood could sweep the underbrush. A wall of fire could erupt along your route.
Deaths happened. They weren’t counted as betrayals, just tragic accidents of uncontrolled magic.
That had become the fourth, unspoken trial: surviving magic never meant for you.
The third and final trial was the same for everyone. A single destination. A single familiar terror: the dragon illusion. Only by defeating it could you claim the ruby it guarded.
To complete the three tests and retrieve each stone, you had exactly twenty-four hours. If you failed a test, you failed the Dragontail trials. If you ran out of time, you failed the Dragontail trials. If you failed the Dragontail trials, you had to leave Elarion Academy.
I was starting to read more about the second trial and the various versions of the test asked of those who wielded fire. Since I didn’t have any magical traces yet, I was sure I would be tested with the flames, but Tran broke the silent peace of the library.
This kept me wishing I’d stayed hidden in the King’s Forest with all these books.
“Can we make bets on who will give and get roses in the Solstice celebration?” Tran said.
“Shouldn’t you be more worried about what comes after the Solstice, not the Solstice celebration?” I teased while Shakari and Rowan snorted.
Tran was such a romantic. The Solstice, over time, became as much about sharing love within your faction as it was showing gratitude and love to the Gods.
Typically, males, regardless of the faction, would share roses with the person they were romantically interested in.
Many couples would get engaged on the Solstice.
“I bet you will attempt to give plenty of roses,” Shakari added.
“You will be surprised,” Tran added with a smile that reached his eyes, but no one returned it to him. We were all focused on our reading.
“Ok, fine, a Dragontail trial question, then. Can we make bets on who we will get to fight in the trials?” Tran asked.
“You and your bets, brother,” Rowan said, keeping his eyes on his book.
“I am curious, does Professor Hog assign them, or can the second years ask to fight any first-year?” Tran asked.
“Who cares? Just go and kick ass,” Shakari said.
“If second-years get to choose first-year, I am fucked,” I said, blushing at the bad word. I never cursed, never was allowed to. “Pardon my words, but I am truly fucked. I know I would get Lorik Draventh.”
“You look so cute when you curse,” Tran chuckled, which made me force a grin.
“You’ll be fine, Thea,” Shakari said firmly. “You’re so much stronger now. You’ve trained like hell. And you don’t need to win the fight, just stand long enough to show the island you’re strong and fearless. Which you are, and the gem will show itself to you.”
“You give me too much credit,” I said, though her words warmed something in my chest. “If I can pass the first trial, the second trial is a roll of the dice. So many options, so many things the Siren can ask us to do. And I don’t even have magical traces. So frustrating.”
“You’re too hard on yourself,” Soehl said. “You demand more than anyone I’ve ever met,
and you’re better than most Dragontails in history.
You’re smart, educated. You’ll navigate the woods better than anyone, reach your markers faster.
You’re not just brute force like half the legion.
No offense, guys.” She gazed at the twins for a moment.
“But you need to listen to me. What if she has a magical trace she doesn’t know about yet? ”
The table fell silent. Soehl was always gentle, always soft, but right now, determination crackled in her expression.
Then Soehl placed a loose page in the center of the table. Her voice was quiet but strong. I looked down at the page she had placed before me.
Soehl slid a fragile parchment toward me. Even before I touched it, I could tell it was old, centuries old. The edges curled and browned, the ink warped where water had spilled and blurred half the lettering.
A legion ledger.
On the right side, a fading portrait clung to the page. The colors had washed into pale
ghosts of their original hues, but I could still make out the female’s features: autumn brown hair that fell past her shoulders; bronze skin; almond-shaped eyes framed by impossibly long lashes.
Her irises were once gold, maybe amber or copper, but now they were just a softened glow under the fading pigment.
A Sunheart. That much was clear.
At the bottom, the ledger entries bled into smudges, the ink warped beyond easy recognition. I leaned closer, trying to decipher them.
Name: Adrieme Sclenfart.
“That doesn’t… that doesn’t make sense,” I whispered. Faction: sunheatt.
“Sunheart,” I muttered.
The date of birth was one of the only clear lines. March 2, 1088.
Three hundred years ago.
The ink was completely faded at the legion section of the ledger.
Then, below it there were three magical traces. Only one had survived the damage.
Magical Trace: Immunity.
My chest tightened.
“Immunity? To what? Who is this person?” The question escaped before I could hide the fear in it.
Soehl tapped the parchment softly. “Mental immunity to start with. I’ve been tracking this placement for weeks.
It was filed under non-graduated trainees.
But the birth date was clear, so I cross-referenced every Solenhart heir born that year.
” She pulled out another book and opened it to a royal family portrait in the Glass Castle.
The Velvet King at your age. His parents were Katarina and Gabriel. And between them, a sister.
Adrienne Solenhart.
The resemblance struck like a blow.
“You have this magical trace in your lineage, Thea.” Soehl said, her golden eyes fixed on mine. The world blurred around me as my friends kept talking.
“The Velvet King’s sister?” Shakari breathed. “She was the first heir, the one they say died during her studies. Then her younger brother rose to the throne and became the most notorious king in Rionis.”
“And the most savage one,” Tran added. “No offense, Princess.”
“Tran, please. No jokes.” I swallowed. “They look the same. The names rhyme. The dates… they’re the same person.”
I considered the possibility for a moment.
Soehl and Jan were right. Thalen was meant to get into my mind, to force the truth from me or catch a lie.
He hadn’t. Professor Chen hadn’t been able to coerce me either, though she should have.
They should both have. Their blood magic was powerful, stronger than any walls I should have been able to build.
“She had mental immunity,” I whispered. “And you think I have this?”
“I don’t think,” Soehl said. “I know. There’s almost no record of mental immunity; we cannot begin to comprehend what the immunity could encompass.
But this proves someone in your line had it.
This proves why no one could reach your mind.
Professor Chen couldn’t get into your mind.
Thalen couldn’t either. But they should have. ”
The table fell silent.
Then Tran, seriously for once, leaned forward.
“In all seriousness, this time… wasn’t King Velvet the one who imposed the rule that only Emberkeep could rule? Isn’t that strange?” He pointed at the ledger. “When his own sister, who should’ve ruled, had this mysterious magic and was wiped from history?”
He wasn’t wrong. Beneath all his teasing, this wasn’t a joke. It was a very good question. “Emberkeep has always ruled,” Rowan added. “King Velvet just made it official.”
They kept debating politics, arguing about royal succession, theorizing, spiraling but their voices blurred into nothing. I didn’t care. I was standing at the edge of a truth buried for centuries, a truth about my family… and about me. And suddenly, all the scattered pieces fell into place.
I’d thought it strange that Thalen couldn’t force the truth out of me, but even that felt almost irrelevant now, because the idea of a magical trace like this was unheard of.
Impossible.
I stepped back, dizzy. Shakari noticed immediately. “Where are you going?”
“I need to prove Soehl’s theory.” I reached forward and hugged Soehl tight. “Thank you. I owe you one.”
I took my family heirloom off my wrist, placed it in my pocket, and, without giving any of them time to stop me, I ran.