The dawn broke softer than usual, its rays brushing against the marble spires of the Academy of Fangs, painting them in molten gold. The faint hum of mana-lamps dimming marked the start of the long-awaited festival day. Ash stirred in his bed as a beam of light found his face, forcing his eyes open. He blinked, groaning softly before sitting up. For the first time in weeks, there was no tension gnawing at his chest — only a strange, expectant calm. The Codex rested quietly beside his bedside table, faint glyphs shimmering along its cover like veins of light.
Not every battle is fought with blades, the Codex murmured faintly in his mind — not commanding, not warning, but observing. Ash ran a hand through his dark hair and smiled faintly. "Then let's see how this one plays out," he said, his voice low.
The corridors of the dormitory were alive with chatter. Students rushed past, laughter echoing against the high walls as the scent of roasted sweets drifted from the central courtyard. Banners of deep crimson and silver hung from archways, bearing the sigil of the academy — twin fangs crossed over a sunburst. Ash followed the familiar voices ahead, turning into the dining hall where Garrick Hollow waved both arms wildly.
"Ash! Over here, you mana-mad bastard!" Garrick grinned, half-standing on his chair, nearly knocking over a jug of juice. His sandy blond hair was as unruly as ever, and his grin too wide for someone so early awake.
Caius Serpentis sat beside him, posture refined as always, silver eyes glinting beneath the soft morning light. "Do you ever possess the capacity for composure, Hollow?" he asked dryly, but the faint curve of his lips betrayed amusement.
"Not when my best mate's been holed up training for weeks!" Garrick shot back, clapping Ash on the shoulder the moment he sat down.
Selene Vaeloria soon appeared — light-footed and radiant in a sky-blue dress embroidered with threads of starlight. Her golden hair caught the morning sun, and her bright azure eyes seemed to reflect the excitement of the day. "You three really do attract attention wherever you sit," she teased, setting her tray down.
"It's mostly Garrick," Ash said, smirking.
"Mostly?" Caius muttered, swirling his cup. "You did defeat me in front of half the academy. Attention seems to trail you naturally."
"Only half?" Garrick leaned forward, eyes mischievous. "Don't sell him short, mate. Pretty sure even the statues were staring."
The table burst into laughter. For a fleeting moment, everything felt ordinary — light, simple, human.
By mid-morning, the academy's central grounds had transformed entirely. Floating lanterns in the shapes of phoenixes and serpents drifted lazily in the air. Booths lined the walkways — games of spell accuracy, alchemical brews that sparkled, charms that hummed when touched. The air shimmered faintly with mana from the sheer concentration of spells woven for celebration.
Professor Elowen passed by, her long raven hair tied back in a braid, her lilac eyes gleaming with quiet approval. "Enjoy yourselves, but do remember that even joy demands restraint," she said softly to Ash and his group as she walked past.
Ash smiled, nodding. "Yes, Professor."
"Restraint," Garrick repeated, stuffing his mouth with candied mana-berries. "Never heard of it."
Selene nearly choked on her laugh. "You'll hear of it once you start failing your focus exercises again."
"I prefer creative mana distribution, thank you," Garrick retorted, dodging the berry she flicked at him.
Caius stood beside Ash, arms crossed, surveying the colorful chaos before them. "I almost forgot what days like this felt like," he murmured.
"You mean without tension?" Ash asked.
Caius nodded once. "Or expectations."
Ash looked at him, seeing the flicker of sincerity behind his calm facade. "Then maybe we should make this one count."
They roamed through the festival together. Selene challenged Caius to a charm-weaving contest — lost spectacularly — and blamed Garrick's heckling for her defeat. Garrick managed to blow up a minor alchemy stand, earning applause from nearby students and a scolding from an elderly vendor. Even Ash found himself laughing so hard his ribs ached.
But amid all the laughter, subtle shifts began to ripple through the air. Whispers followed Ash again — not sharp like before, but edged with curiosity, envy, awe. The commoner who defeated a noble. The prodigy who forged a perfect circle. The mage who might upset the balance of the noble houses.
Then came Darius Redthorne.
He approached from the crowd, crimson hair gleaming under the lantern light, his tailored black cloak draped effortlessly across one shoulder. His family sigil — a red rose encircled by thorns — shimmered faintly on his chest. His expression was pleasant, smile courteous, yet his ruby eyes held the glint of something sharp and unkind.
"Well, well," he drawled. "The hero of the Serpent's Fall himself. Enjoying the festival, Vale?"
Ash's brow twitched slightly. "I'm trying to."
Darius's smirk deepened. "Ah, of course. Common air suits you, I imagine — far less suffocating than sitting among true bloodlines."
Caius's jaw tightened. "Careful, Redthorne."
"Relax, Serpentis. I'm merely appreciating how quickly the academy's winds shift. One victory, and suddenly everyone forgets their place."
Garrick stepped forward, grin lopsided but voice steady. "And some people can't seem to find theirs no matter how many times it's written in gold."
Darius's eyes flicked toward him, sharp. "Ah, the jester speaks."
Before tension could spiral, Selene interjected, her tone disarming. "You said your family donated something for the festival, didn't you, Lord Redthorne? What was it again?"
His smirk returned. "A little… demonstration piece. A mirror maze — illusion-based. Quite the marvel, really. Would the famed Vale care to try it? I hear it reveals the strength of one's heart."
Ash caught the faintest flicker in his gaze — the satisfaction of bait laid bare. Yet his curiosity sparked all the same. "Sure," he said evenly. "Why not?"
Caius shot him a look. "You realize that's a trap, don't you?"
"Maybe," Ash replied quietly. "But even traps can teach something."
They followed Darius through the festival grounds to a large dome of translucent crystal pulsing faintly with mana. Runes spiraled across its surface, reflecting lanterns like a pool of liquid glass. Students entered in groups, laughter echoing from inside.
"This way," Darius said, gesturing them in with a courteous bow that felt like mockery.
The moment they stepped through the archway, sound muffled — as if the world outside had vanished behind a veil. The interior shimmered with mirrored walls that stretched endlessly, each reflection slightly distorted. At first, it was dazzling — light bending, footsteps echoing softly.
Then, slowly, the reflections began to change.
Ash paused. His reflection lingered half a heartbeat too long before mimicking him. Selene's laugh faded into silence. Garrick's voice trailed off mid-joke. Caius's silver eyes narrowed, pupils contracting like a serpent sensing a storm.
"This mana…" Caius whispered. "It's tainted."
Crimson ripples flickered along the mirrored floor. The air thickened — heavy, humming with unseen intent. Ash raised his hand instinctively, mana gathering in a pale blue glow around his fingertips. "It's not just illusion," he said. "It's reacting."
A whisper echoed — faint, then many, rising and overlapping until they were nearly words.Weak. Pretender. You don't belong.
Selene's eyes darted around, her usual cheer cracking into alarm. "These mirrors—they're amplifying our fears!"
"Or feeding off them," Caius said grimly, summoning faint scales of spectral black along his arms, his bloodline resonating in defense.
Ash looked into his reflection again — but this time, it wasn't his face staring back. It was the same eyes… but golden, ancient, fierce. His own voice spoke back to him, layered with something older.
You can't run from what you are, Archstrategos.
His breath caught. "Codex…?"
Defend yourself, came the whisper, sharp as a blade through glass. The serpent coils again.
Crimson light erupted from the mirrors, swallowing their reflections whole.
Outside, Darius watched the dome pulse once, twice, before stabilizing. A satisfied smirk curled his lips. "Let's see how the hero fares when the stage isn't his to control."
Around him, students clapped and laughed, believing the show inside was part of the attraction — none realizing that within, the true trial had just begun