Avenya stood at the edge of the gathering field, her black cloak fluttering in the wind. The sky above the Academy shifted unnaturally, clouds bruised with stormlight and magic. The air tingled with tension.
"Is it always like this?" a soft voice beside her asked.
Avenya turned. Calla. Poised and radiant in her silver-accented uniform, golden hair pinned into elegant knots.
"Like what?" Avenya replied, watching the sky.
"This… pressure. Like the world is holding its breath."
Avenya's lips curved. "Maybe the world is waiting."
Calla tilted her head. "Waiting for what?"
"For us," Avenya said simply.
Nearby, Kaelara muttered under her breath as she tied her boots. "Too many peacocks today. All fluff and polished metal."
"Are you talking about the nobles or the instructors?" Serenya grinned, approaching with a tray of apples stolen from the kitchen.
Kaelara bit into one. "Both. Though the instructors smell better."
Serenya laughed, tossing an apple toward Zerina, who caught it without looking, her eyes still closed in prayer.
"You always do that creepy 'eyes closed' thing," Serenya said.
Zerina opened one eye, amused. "I listen better when I don't look."
Kaelara shrugged. "You'll need more than prayers today, temple girl."
"I've got fire," Zerina said softly. "Plenty of it."
Avenya walked into the arena with calm steps. Her heartbeat slow. Her senses sharp.
"She's too composed," murmured a girl in the stands.
"Who is she really?" another whispered.
The Headmistress Elvareth raised her staff, amplifying her voice.
"You will face your trials one by one. Not only in combat, but in choice. In spirit. Those who lie will be exposed. Those who hide... will be revealed."
The coliseum shimmered, transforming into a wasteland of flame and bone.
Xarek stepped forward—tall, cruelly handsome, the kind of man who expected fear to bow before him.
"You sure you want to fight me, pretty thing?" he smirked, voice dripping with scorn.
Avenya said nothing.
"Silent type. Cute. I'll try not to break you too hard."
Still silence.
Then, she whispered, "You talk too much."
The crowd gasped as she raised her hand and unleashed the storm—fire, water, earth, and light colliding in a sphere of raw elemental fury.
Xarek panicked, conjuring wind blades, but she shattered them without blinking.
"Enough," she said.
And time stopped.
When it resumed, Xarek was on his knees—gasping, eyes wide with primal fear.
She hadn't touched him.
But everyone watching knew: something old had returned.
"By the gods… did you see that?"
"He's never been bested like that."
"Who is she?"
"The Black Queen... she's awake."
The nobles whispered, exchanging glances thick with shock and newfound respect.
The arena morphed again — a roaring inferno surrounded the ring.
Zerina stepped forward, eyes closed in calm concentration.
Thalen spat, "I will burn you to ash, temple witch."
"Then try," Zerina said softly.
Flames erupted from her palms, twisting and swirling, not chaotic but purposeful — a controlled blaze that consumed without destroying.
The prince unleashed a torrent of fireballs.
Zerina moved through them like a shadow, weaving flames with flames, sending back ribbons of burning light that wrapped around Thalen, forcing him to his knees.
The crowd hissed.
"Her fire is sacred," a noblewoman whispered.
"Not just fire," a lord added. "It's wrath made flesh."
"She channels the temple's power," someone said.
"A fire that purifies, not destroys."
"Watch how she holds back. Restraint is power."
Zerina's eyes opened, blazing like molten gold.
The field turned into a dense, dark forest. Vines slithered along the ground like living serpents.
Kaelara crouched, her wolf companion's low growl echoing.
Dren charged, sword raised.
Kaelara darted forward, faster than the eye could track. Vines exploded up, binding Dren's arms.
He struggled, slashing, but the forest was alive — thorns ripping his armor, roots tangling his legs.
She leaned close, voice a growl. "This is my domain."
The crowd murmured.
"He's caught like prey."
"Wild, untamed. She's a force of nature."
Kaelara released him, stepping back with a satisfied grin.
The arena shifted to a hall of mirrors, illusions twisting reality.
Calla stood serene, her eyes like polished silver.
Serelith sneered, "You hide behind tricks, Calla. Show me your true power."
Calla's lips twitched. "You misunderstand."
She waved her hand, and the mirrors shimmered — illusions became reality, reality warped.
Serelith lunged, but found herself battling phantoms of herself, her doubts made flesh.
The crowd gasped at the beauty and cruelty of the illusion.
"Mind games," a courtier whispered. "But deadly."
Calla's voice cut through the silence. "Truth is the sharpest blade."
Serelith fell, dizzy and defeated.
The arena glowed with a serene light.
Serenya stood, chanting softly, her voice carrying sacred power.
Harvin sneered, "Your prayers won't save you."
"Maybe not," Serenya replied, "but they will judge you."
Shields of radiant light bloomed, pushing back Harvin's attacks.
He swung wildly, but his weapons shattered on the divine barrier.
The crowd whispered in awe.
"Her power cleanses."
"Her faith is armor."
The Queens met beneath glowing crystal trees, exhaustion and triumph mingling in the cool night air.
Calla broke the silence. "That wasn't just skill. That was… prophecy."
Kaelara leaned forward, arms crossed. "She held back. She could've killed them all."
"She was merciful," Zerina said calmly. "That's its own kind of power."
Serenya glanced at the others. "Anyone else want to admit we're all thinking the same thing?"
Kaelara snorted. "That Avenya is more than she seems?"
"That she might be the one we were waiting for," Calla whispered.
They turned to see Avenya standing alone beneath the crystal trees, eyes closed, breathing steady.