Hikaru stretched his arms overhead, the excitement bubbling within him. "This is going to be a blast, testing our combat skills against formidable opponents, right, Hiyori?" His voice echoed in the expansive arena, but there was an unsettling silence in response.
Looking around, he scanned the area, his heart sinking when he couldn't find her. "Hiyori?" he called out, panic creeping into his voice.
The realization dawned on him as a faint sound of commotion reached him from a distance, "She's in the other arena..."
Meanwhile, Hiyori stood in her designated arena, her voice ringing out as she called up to Headmaster Veyron, hoping to catch his attention. "Can I swap to the other arena? My brother's over there!"
Headmaster Veyon regarded her calmly, his expression inscrutable, before he averted his gaze.
Back in his own arena, Hikaru's jaw clenched in frustration. "Who am I when I'm not leaning on my sister?" he muttered, his mind racing. The sudden separation felt deliberate, a test of their abilities to handle challenges independently. Had the Headmaster orchestrated this to push them to their limits alone?
He had faced a similar moment during the first trial, standing alone and untested.
As his thoughts spiraled, Klaris approached him with a friendly demeanor, her bright eyes sparkling with encouragement. "Hey, don't be so bummed out! You may not have your sister by your side, but you have us."
Hikaru arched an eyebrow, skepticism etched on his face. "I don't even know who you are," he replied curtly, trying to mask his unease.
With a cheerful grin, she introduced herself, her voice light and approachable. "Better remember my name, it's Klaris Kaiser! We'll be classmates moving forward, right?"
Hikaru considered her words, a flicker of hope igniting amidst his doubts. Assuming they passed this final and daunting trial, he pondered the consequences. But if Hiyori were to fail... would he really abandon his quest just to be with her?
The weight of their bond was heavy on his conscience, and as the thrill of the upcoming challenges loomed before him, uncertainty nestled in his heart.
Klaris bumped his shoulder. "Don't leave me hanging."
"It's Hikaru," he replied, straightening.
"Then join me and the rest of the group," she said, gesturing to the students clustered around a makeshift plan. "We need a strategy for taking down Professor Seris, even if it's just a single touch."
Hikaru nodded and fell in step beside her. The group had already begun discussing roles and tactics, their voices a low hum of anticipation.
Professor Seris leaned against the wall, smiling, before calling out, "Here's a hint: I specialize in water magic. Fire works well against me, if you want to try."
Klaris began counting heads. "Forty-one students in our group. We need dedicated roles, offense, defense, and support. Let's assign tasks."
A student raised his hand. "I'm proficient in fire magic. I can focus on offense if Seris is weak against it."
Klaris nodded approvingly. "Perfect. That will be a key advantage."
Hikaru cleared his throat. "My specialty is canceling spells," he said, drawing a few surprised glances.
"Canceling spells? That's… advanced," one student murmured.
Hikaru shrugged. "It's still difficult for me. But since Professor Seris is limited to basic water spells, and her output is low, I should be able to neutralize her attacks if timed right."
Klaris smiled, eyes sharp. "Then you're our safeguard. Everyone else, let's coordinate around him, timing, position, and support. We move as one."
The group quickly fell into a rhythm, voices low but precise. Klaris pointed toward the center of the arena. "Offense, take the front lines. Draw her attention and keep her busy."
Three students stepped forward, forming into a line, sparks of fire and arcs of Aether dancing around their hands.
"Defense, flank them and cover weak points," Klaris continued. A pair of students positioned themselves to shield the attackers with runes and protective Aether barriers.
Hikaru hovered slightly behind the offense, eyes scanning. Timing is everything, he thought. One misstep and her counter could ruin us. He flexed his hands, feeling the familiar pull of Aether as he prepared to nullify incoming spells.
The support students spread out near the back, nodding to one another. Each had tools, potions, or minor Aether constructs ready to bolster their allies. Klaris moved along the line, checking each placement.
"You," she said to a wiry boy, "keep fire on standby for flanking attacks. Not too early, or she'll anticipate it." He nodded and melted back into position.
"I'll signal when to strike," Klaris added. "Hikaru, you focus on the strongest spells first. Everyone else, trust your instincts and follow the plan."
The students exchanged determined looks. Even as nerves prickled, there was a quiet confidence in the group. They were relying on each other, moving as a single organism rather than forty-one individuals.
Klaris raised a hand. "Remember—touch her once, and the trial is ours. We don't have to overpower her, just be precise. Timing, coordination, confidence."
Hikaru nodded to her. She's got the clarity I need, he thought. If we stick to the plan, it should work.
The group took a breath, settling into their positions as Seris shifted her stance, water rippling lightly around her feet. The arena seemed to hold its breath with them, a tense silence before the storm of movement.
Then, with a subtle nod from Klaris, they began. Offense surged forward, defensive shields followed, and Hikaru's focus sharpened, ready to cancel any spell that came their way. Support flitted behind, weaving protective spells and Aether constructs into the rhythm of the battle.
Even from the high rail, Aurelia could see the cohesion forming, the plan unfolding with more precision than she expected from a group of students thrown together. They're not just relying on talent, she thought, they're relying on trust, and that might be stronger than raw power.
Seris weaved through the incoming spells with effortless grace, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Veyron hasn't even started the timer yet," she called over her shoulder, "but why wait for the fun?"
Her hands had been tucked behind her back, but as she sidestepped a fireball, one hand shot forward. A magic circle bloomed beneath her palm, lines of water curling and twisting like liquid runes.
Before it could finish, a sudden spark from a deflected attack shattered the circle, sending droplets flying. Distracted for a heartbeat, she barely twisted out of the path of another fireball.
She grinned, eyes flicking to Hikaru. "Complex spell cancellation, huh? Not many can manage that so smoothly." Her smile widened, sharp and calculating. "Now I know exactly who to target."
Without another word, she surged forward, water rippling in her wake, a predator closing in on the student who had made her pause mid-attack.
Klaris's eyes widened as she saw Seris pivot toward Hikaru, her movements fluid and swift. "Hikaru!" she shouted, lunging forward with her Aether, threads of light stretching to create a brief shield between him and the oncoming wave of water.
Hikaru barely staggered back, canceling the residual magic with a flick of his hand, but the effort drew a low grunt from him. "Thanks… but I've got this," he called, eyes narrowing, scanning the arena.
The rest of the group moved instinctively. One student leapt to flank Seris, launching a series of fire sparks to force her to dodge, while another readied a support spell, creating a ripple of shielding energy around Hikaru.
Klaris adjusted on the fly, her Aether shaping into a whip of light to redirect a stray water bolt harmlessly into the arena floor.
This is it, Klaris thought, this is why we planned. We can't let her isolate him. She felt the surge of coordination, the rhythm of their combined attacks and defenses flowing like a single organism. I need to trust myself, trust him, trust all of us.
Hikaru's lips twitched in a brief, almost imperceptible smile, recognizing the pattern forming around him. He twisted, canceling a small surge of water before it reached his flank, and stepped into a counterstrike that sent a jet of Aether slicing past Seris's defense.
Seris tilted her head, an amused glint in her eyes. "Impressive," she said, dodging nimbly, "but you're all too predictable when you work as one."
Klaris clenched her jaw. Then we'll just have to be unpredictable. She signaled quickly, and the group adjusted, some creating diversions while others pressed forward to support Hikaru, every move measured yet spontaneous.
Hikaru gritted his teeth, letting the chaos flow around him. We can do this. We will. Even without Hiyori...
From above, Aurelia watched, lips pressed together in concentration. Their coordination… their instincts… they adapt faster than most adults I've seen. And yet, every one of them is still learning. This will be a trial that separates those who think, and those who act.
The battle wasn't just about strength, it was about synergy, timing, and reading each other's intentions.
Klaris felt her confidence spike. We've got this. One touch. That's all we need.
The distant noise from Seris's arena carried faintly through the air, laughter, splashing water, the crack of spellfire, but Marlec only tilted his head, listening. "Sounds lively," he remarked. "And the trial hasn't even started."
He shrugged, folding his arms. "You're welcome to attack me whenever you like. Or take the time to think. I'll be here."
Hiyori exhaled slowly, forcing her attention back to the students around her. Forty-one of us. All Aether users. No obvious hierarchy, no shared style, just nerves, ambition, and the same goal pressing on all of them.
Hikaru would already be breaking this apart into roles, she thought, the absence of her brother tugging at her focus. I can't afford that distraction.
Cesare stepped forward, voice steady despite the tension coiled in his shoulders. "Alright. We don't know each other, but that doesn't matter right now. We only need one thing, touching Professor Marlec once. That means coordination, not chaos."
A few students nodded. Others straightened, listening more closely.
"We're all Aether users," Cesare continued, "but that doesn't mean we all fight the same way. So we split into what we're best at." He raised three fingers. "Offense. Defense. Support."
There was a brief hesitation, then movement.
Students began sorting themselves, some confidently, others after a moment of consideration.
A cluster drifted to the offensive side: fire specialists, force manipulators, those who favored raw output and pressure.
Another group formed more cautiously, defensive casters shaping barriers, dampening fields, counter-flows.
The smallest group gathered last: support-leaning students who worked with amplification, redirection, timing, and sensory enhancement.
Cesare scanned the groups, counting under his breath. More offense than anything else, he noted. Not surprising. Most people came to an academy like this wanting to hit harder, burn brighter. He frowned slightly, then relaxed.
"That's fine," he said aloud. "Offense will draw attention. Defense keeps lanes open. Support coordinates and adjusts. And if things shift, we adapt, offense can fall back, defense can push forward. Don't lock yourselves into one role."
Hiyori found herself in the offensive group without hesitation. Her magic thrummed eagerly under her skin, sharp, fast, meant to pierce and disrupt rather than endure.
She glanced toward the defensive cluster, instinctively measuring angles, imagining where pressure would crack first.
If Hikaru were here, he'd sit right there, she thought. Canceling, stabilizing, and covering mistakes.
Marlec watched them with open amusement, tapping one finger against his arm. "Organized already? I'm impressed."
Cesare ignored him, turning back to the group. "We'll refine positions once the trial actually begins. For now, understand your strengths. Know what you can switch to if needed. We win by thinking, not rushing."
The students settled, tension easing into something sharper, focus.
Hiyori clenched her fist once, feeling the edge of her magic respond. We don't need to overpower him. Just outthink him.
Marlec did something deeply unsettling.
He looked up.
Not toward the arena walls, not toward the shifting wards overhead, but directly at Aurelia, still standing on the lifted platform above the colosseum. His gaze locked onto hers with surgical precision.
"Why not let the main character have her moment?" he called mildly.
Aurelia blinked. Main—what? Her brow arched despite herself. "Excuse me?"
Marlec's lips twitched. "Wouldn't it be more instructive for them," he said, gesturing to the forty-one students below, "to experience their senior up close?"
Aurelia's stomach dropped. "Absolutely not." She shook her head at once. "I'm not strong enough to handle forty-one students at the same time, are you mad?"
She turned sharply toward Veyron, already shaking her head, silently pleading for reason.
He didn't give it.
Veyron studied the arena, then nodded once. "I agree," he said calmly. "It will be a valuable learning experience. For them—and for you."
Traitor.
Aurelia barely had time to inhale before space folded.
The world lurched, no sensation of movement, no wind, no warning, just a clean, impossible switch.
One heartbeat, she was above.
The next, sand crunched beneath her boots.
Marlec now stood on the platform in her place, hands clasped behind his back as if nothing unusual had occurred.
Aurelia froze.
The students did not.
A ripple of surprise tore through the group, followed by a burst of bright, disbelieving excitement.
"That's—"
"No way—"
"It's her!"
"The Moon Maiden!"
Aurelia flushed instantly. "Please don't call me that," she blurted, mortified, one hand half-raised as if she could bat the name out of the air.
Some students laughed, others stared in awe, and a few straightened instinctively as if facing a legend rather than a second-year student who very much did not sign up for this.
Aurelia swallowed, steadying her breath.
Forty-one students, she thought, eyes sweeping across them. Aether users. Coordinated. Ambitious.
She glanced up once more at the platform.
Marlec met her gaze and smiled, "Feel free to use your full power, but if you're touched once, you lose."
The trial had just become much more interesting.
For half a second, no one moved.
Then Cesare Varare felt it land.
We're not fighting Marlec. It's worse.
His eyes locked onto Aurelia standing across the sand, hair catching the light, posture straight but unmistakably tense. Up close, the pressure was different: less theatrical than a professor's, more concentrated, like heat trapped under glass.
Aurelia shifted her weight, rolling her shoulders once, fingers flexing at her side. Forty-one of them, she counted automatically. All Aether users. No fixed formation yet. They're thinking offense first, good instinct, bad timing.
She exhaled slowly and let her perception widen, not reaching with her Aspect, not thoroughly, just enough to feel the currents. Aether stirred unevenly across the arena, flaring where nerves spiked, thinning where doubt crept in.
They're splitting roles already, she realized. Offense-heavy. They'll rush.
Her jaw tightened, not in fear, but in resolve.
All right. If I'm the wall, I'll teach them how walls break.
She's different, Hiyori thought, not like the professors.
Aurelia wasn't radiating the restrained power that Marlec did. She wasn't smiling like Seris.
She was alert.
She's treating us like a real threat.
That realization sent a strange thrill through Hiyori's chest, half fear, half excitement. Her Aether shifted instinctively, condensing, sharpening, leaning toward projection and impact rather than control.
Offense, she decided. If I hesitate, she won't.
Cesare lifted a hand, forcing his voice steady. "Okay," he said, louder now, grounding himself in the sound of it. "Change of plans."
Several students looked to him automatically.
"That's Aurelia Caelistra," he continued. "She won't be holding back. More reactive. If we try to overwhelm her all at once, she'll dismantle us."
A pause.
"So we bait her," he said. "Defense draws attention. Support disrupts flow. Offense hits in layers, not all at once."
Across the arena, Aurelia heard the shift, not the words, but the intent. The Aether pattern changed, tightening, aligning.
She smiled faintly despite herself.
Good, she thought. Learn fast. That's the point.
She raised her hand slightly, palm open.
"Whenever you're ready," Aurelia said, voice carrying easily through the colosseum.
Above them, Marlec clicked his tongue in quiet approval.
The third trial had truly begun.
They surged as one, forty-one bodies folding into motion, a tide aimed straight at her.
Aurelia stepped forward and drew the black blade at her hip. The metal drank the light from the arena and felt, even in her hand, like a promise kept. She met the first rush with a sidestep, the blade a whisper that caught a wrist, redirected an arc of Aether. She spoke as she moved, voice low and steady.
"Good timing. Clean strikes. You trained for this." She let a corner of praise ride out on a parry. They learn fast when the stakes are real, she thought. Good. It makes my work honest.
Estelle broke from a flank and forced a bright knot of energy between her palms, the Aries flare, the kind that hurls a first action forward like a spear. Her eyes went silver with constellations as she pushed the pattern outward, the little wheel in her palm ignited.
Aurelia watched the motion fold into shape the way someone reads a familiar sentence. Her Remembrance slipped forward, soft, precise, and touched the thread of Estelle's training, the single rehearsal the girl had run three nights earlier. She felt the intention before it landed: Aries. Start now. Explode now.
"You'll call the Constellation Aries," Aurelia said, voice calm. "It makes the first action sharp, spells quicker, motions immediate. It's useful for an opener. But I won't let you have it."
With that, she angled the black blade and pushed. Not a cut at flesh, at a line, at the bright, humming river of Aether binding Estelle's motion.
Darkness flared from the blade, not cruelly, but clinically: a cold, sealing pressure that hit the light and smudged it.
Estelle staggered, hands flying to her face as the constellations winked and blurred. The wheel collapsed as a candle snuffed.
Aurelia didn't relish the success. She kept the blade low and tasted something bitter at the back of her mouth. "Finality," she said, quietly, to no one but the air. "It severs the current, cuts your link to Aether, and with it your Aspect."
Her thumb brushed the black edge as if checking its temper. It works, she admitted inwardly. And it feels wrong like tearing a page out of a book you still love.
Around them, a dozen students faltered, the rest hesitated, uncertainty flickering through their formation.
Aurelia held the dark space where Estelle's light had been and let the heaviness settle a beat longer than necessary.
"I won't make you anything you're not," she said, more softly now. "But I will not let a sudden, brutal start take someone else's life here."
She stepped back, blade sheathed with a soft click, and watched as Estelle blinked the stars away and tried to breathe steady beneath the absence.
Suddenly, without Aurelia lifting her hand or shaping a circle, a fireball screamed into being.
It tore across the arena toward a cluster of students still regrouping, heat rippling the air. Shouts broke out. Instinct took over before thought—
Cesare slammed his palms together. Dough burst into existence midair, swelling, rising, layers folding over themselves in a heartbeat.
A giant loaf formed just in time, dense and absurd and solid as a wall. The fireball struck it and exploded in a bloom of flame and steam, scorching the crust black but stopping dead.
The loaf sagged. Held.
Aurelia exhaled once. "Good reaction," she said, already moving.
The students stared at her, confusion flickering into alarm. "You—!" someone started. "You cast that?"
She shook her head. "No."
She turned slightly, the black blade still sheathed, and tapped two fingers against her temple. "I brought it back."
At their blank looks, she continued, calm as a lecture hall. "Remembrance doesn't only read people. It reads acts. Strong ones leave impressions." Her gaze swept the arena. "A fireball was cast here three days ago. Same vector. Same shaping. Same impatience."
Her eyes sharpened, unfocused in that way that meant she was seeing something else layered over the present. I remember it, she thought. The stumble in the stance. The rush at the end.
"I didn't recreate it," Aurelia said. "I replayed it. Fed the echo just enough Aether to finish what it started."
A murmur ran through the students, uneasy, awed.
Cesare stared at his bread shield, chest heaving. She weaponized memory, he realized. Not imagination. Not spellcraft. History
Aurelia looked back at them, expression steady but not unkind. "This arena remembers everything you do in it," she said. "Every shortcut. Every careless cast."
Her voice softened, just a little. "So be mindful of what you leave behind."
Then she raised her chin, eyes bright with challenge.
"Now," she said, "show me something worth remembering."