Blackthorn Academy pulsed with anticipation.
The first trial had arrived.
Selene stood at the edge of the ritual circle in the southern courtyard, dawn light bleeding through the thick mist like spilled silver. Around her, the Academy's top candidates formed a crescent—some solemn, others jittery, all hungry.
The Trial of Thorns was a rite woven into Blackthorn's history. Part tradition. Part test. And entirely brutal.
She adjusted the clasp of her cloak as Headmaster Caldus raised a hand, his voice echoing over the courtyard like a blade.
"You were chosen for your strength, your intellect, your potential. But potential without control is chaos. Today, you will step into the Labyrinth. What you face inside will be shaped by your fears and your blood. You may be partnered. You may not return the same."
A murmur rippled through the gathered students.
Selene's gaze swept the crowd—and met Matthew's across the courtyard.
She hadn't spoken to him since that night in her dorm. Since the touch of his hand quieted the storm inside her. But his eyes found hers easily now, steady and grounding.
She gave a barely perceptible nod.
And then, Aurelian Vex stepped forward.
His dark coat fluttered behind him like wings, his eyes unreadable as he moved closer to her side.
"Raventhorn," he said smoothly, voice low. "Let's hope we're paired. I'd hate for someone else to break you before I do."
"Bold of you to assume you could," she replied, not bothering to look at him.
Aurelian smirked and said nothing more.
Professor Lysandra appeared beside Caldus, unrolling a parchment. "When your name is called, you'll enter the Labyrinth. If you make it to the heart, you pass. If not…"
She didn't need to finish the sentence.
One by one, names were called, pairs vanishing through the veil of brambles and mist.
When Selene Raventhorn and Matthew Duskbane were called, a hush fell.
Selene moved to stand beside Matthew, and for a moment, the world shrank to the quiet between them.
"You ready?" he asked, eyes flicking to hers.
"No," she admitted. "But I will be."
They stepped into the Labyrinth.
The thorns closed behind them.
The air changed immediately—cooler, laced with enchantment. The path ahead twisted unnaturally, pulsing with magic that bent light and sound. Brambles loomed on either side, thick and shifting, and shadows darted within them like waiting beasts.
Matthew drew a dagger from his belt, his magic coiling just beneath his skin.
Selene reached for the Raventhorn blood magic within her and felt it stir, whispering secrets of hidden paths and ancient dangers.
"We stay close," Matthew said. "Watch for illusions."
They moved quickly but cautiously, navigating the winding maze. The deeper they went, the more the Labyrinth seemed to see them—to know them.
A fork in the path split before them. One path shimmered faintly, lined with soft white roses. The other pulsed with a red glow and was littered with bone-like shards.
"Left or right?" Selene asked.
Matthew stared at the roses. "Illusion."
Selene nodded and turned toward the red path.
They moved together like a mirrored pair—watchful, quiet. Selene's senses sharpened with each step. Whispers clung to the edges of her hearing, fragments of memory and doubt.
Her mother's voice. A scream. Fire.
Then—movement.
A creature burst from the thorns. Part shadow, part nightmare. It lunged with claws dripping black venom.
Selene reacted instantly, blood magic lacing her fingertips. "Aspercor!" she shouted, hurling a crimson bolt that seared into its chest.
Matthew flanked it, driving his dagger deep into its side. The beast shrieked and dissolved into mist.
They didn't stop moving.
The path twisted again, then widened into a clearing. In the center stood a pedestal—and Aurelian Vex.
Selene froze.
He was bleeding from a cut across his brow, his coat torn, but he stood tall and calm.
"What are you doing here?" Matthew demanded.
Aurelian gestured to the pedestal. "It appears we all share the same heart of the maze. Three candidates. One relic."
Selene's eyes narrowed. A golden ring sat on the pedestal, etched with old runes. It pulsed faintly.
"The trial isn't over," she said. "What's the catch?"
Aurelian smiled thinly. "Only one of us leaves this place with the relic. Only one passes."
Matthew swore under his breath.
Selene stepped closer, gaze fixed on Aurelian. "You knew this was coming."
"I suspected. The Academy rarely tests strength without forcing a choice."
A cruel wind swept through the clearing.
The ring pulsed brighter—and three shadowy forms rose from the thorns. Copies. Twisted reflections of Selene, Matthew, and Aurelian.
Their darker selves.
The first shadow lunged at Selene.
She countered with a shield of crimson light, the force throwing the creature back. Matthew clashed with his own mirror, blades meeting in rapid bursts. Aurelian fought like a viper—fast, efficient, brutal.
Selene faced her shadow—eyes black, smile cruel.
"You're not real," Selene growled.
"But I am you," the shadow hissed. "The version that doesn't hesitate. The one who wins."
Selene's anger flared. She struck with precision, fueled by every scar, every doubt. When the shadow dissolved in smoke, she was left panting—shaken but standing.
Matthew and Aurelian finished theirs at nearly the same moment.
Silence fell.
Three stood. One relic.
Selene turned to the ring.
"You should take it," Matthew said quietly. "It's meant for you."
Aurelian didn't speak—but his eyes were sharp, calculating.
Selene stepped forward and lifted the ring.
A surge of power rippled through her, ancient and wild. Visions flared—of blood, of fire, of a forgotten throne.
And a voice in her head: Awaken us.
The world steadied.
She turned to the others. "Let's go."
Aurelian raised a brow. "Just like that?"
"You said only one could carry it. You didn't say we couldn't all leave."
His expression twisted—half admiration, half warning.
As they moved toward the exit, Matthew brushed her arm.
"You chose mercy over ambition," he murmured. "That's not weakness."
Selene didn't answer. But her grip on the ring tightened.
The Labyrinth released them into light.
Caldus watched them return with unreadable eyes. Lysandra gave a rare, small smile. The crowd stirred—some in awe, others in envy.
Selene stood straighter, the ring pulsing in her hand.
The trial had ended.
But something far older had just begun.