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The air was thick with tension after Lyrium's trial, his chaotic lightning still crackling faintly in the courtyard.
I stood silently among the crowd, my posture poised, my hands loosely clasped in front of .
The whispers swirled around like gnats—distracting, but ultimately inconsequential.
"Unstable... but powerful," soone murmured behind .
"Can soone like that even control his affinity?"
I didn't turn. I didn't need to.
The doubt in their voices was so... predictable.
They always spoke like this when sothing didn't fit neatly into their carefully curated expectations.
But I had seen it. Lyrium's performance was raw, chaotic, yes—but there was undeniable power in it.
Untad, perhaps, but potent.
And he knew it. As he crossed his arms and stared back at the obelisk, there wasn't a shred of hesitation in his expression.
No anxiety.
No need to justify himself.
That, more than his affinity, caught my attention.
A man like him didn't care what others thought, and in a place like this, that made him... interesting.
But my interest was fleeting. I had no ti to dwell on what was essentially an incomplete performance.
He was unrefined—a lightning storm with no clear path.
Then, the parchnt shimred again, and I heard Headmistress Emily's voice, clear and deliberate.
"Margaret Windsor."
The whispers shifted imdiately.
Of course they did.
"Margaret Windsor? The royal family from Switzerland!"
"She's the Windsor heir. A prodigy, they say—mastery of multiple elents already!"
"And have you seen her? She's—"
Perfect.
I didn't have to hear the rest to know what they were saying.
I had heard it all before.
The awe.
The admiration.
The envy.
It followed everywhere.
As I stepped forward, the crowd parted instinctively, as they always did.
I could feel their gazes—so reverent, others resentful—but none daring to look too closely.
I moved with purpose, my head high, each step deliberate and precise.
This was my stage, after all.
The obelisk lood ahead of , humming faintly as I approached.
Its energy seed to pulse in anticipation.
Even it, it seed, understood who was standing before it.
I raised my hand and placed it against the smooth, cold surface.
There was no hesitation.
The reaction was imdiate.
The obelisk erupted in a dazzling silver light, arcs of frost spiraling upward like a dance of stars.
I felt the temperature drop as the ground beneath grew slick with frost.
The air crystallized, sharp and biting, as my trial began to manifest.
A glacier.
Tall, jagged, and imposing, it towered above , radiating cold so intense it burned.
Then it moved, shards of ice hurtling toward with deadly precision.
But I was ready.
I raised my hand, summoning a barrier of frost that rippled outward in shimring waves.
The shards shattered harmlessly against it, falling to the ground in glinting fragnts.
I advanced, my movents asured and deliberate, each step bringing closer to the glacier.
Every attack it sent my way was t with precision—ice shields that curved flawlessly, counters that required no wasted effort. Control.
That was the difference between my trial and Lyrium's.
Where his power had been reckless and untad, mine was disciplined, calculated, absolute.
Then ca the final challenge.
The glacier shifted, its jagged peaks collapsing into a roaring avalanche.
The sound was deafening, the sheer force of it enough to send even the most talented mage into retreat.
But I stood my ground, summoning a column of frost that erupted from the earth and split the avalanche cleanly in two.
The shards dissolved into glittering snowflakes, drifting harmlessly around as the trial ended.
Silence.
I lowered my hand, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face.
The courtyard was frozen in more ways than one—silent, still, captivated. I didn't need to look at them to know what they were feeling.
Awe.
Admiration.
Fear.
Headmistress Emily inclined her head slightly, a gesture of approval so rare it might as well have been applause.
"Well done, Margaret Windsor. Step back."
I turned without hesitation, my expression calm, composed.
My steps carried back to the crowd, their gazes following like shadows.
I was aware of their awe, but I didn't care for it.
Their opinions were inconsequential—nothing I hadn't heard a thousand tis before.
They could whisper, speculate, idolize all they wanted. It made no difference to .
But as I passed Lyrium, I allowed my gaze to flick toward him.
Our eyes t for the briefest of monts.
Unlike the others, he didn't avert his gaze. He didn't look nervous or intimidated.
He didn't look impressed, either. He just... stared back, as though he were studying the sa way I had studied him.
Interesting.
I turned away without another thought, disappearing into the crowd.
The whispers continued, but I ignored them.
Lyrium's trial had been raw, unrefined. He had potential, certainly, but he lacked control.
Still... there was sothing there. Sothing untad.
Dangerous.
Perhaps the sa could be said about .
But as I reached the edge of the crowd, I couldn't shake the thought.
Why had he t my gaze like that? Why wasn't he awed—or fearful?
The obelisk humd again, and Emily's voice rang out once more.
"Ren Sullivan."
I let the thought drift away as the crowd stirred again.
The next trial had begun, and the academy's drama continued.
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