Eirabella
“Today,”King Halford begins, his gaze sweeping over the gathered faces lining the four borders of the training field, “we stand on the edge of history, and you all are about to witness the final trial that will crown our next Aquilith.” His voice booms across the training grounds, carrying a commanding authority that silences the murmuring crowd. “This role requires a sacred bond between the Keeper and the land and its people, an embodiment of Celador’s strength and spirit.” His words are met with a hush, each person drawn in by the weight of his declaration.
Behind him, the towering walls of the impending trial maze loom, casting shadows over us, adding to the sense of anticipation that grows with every heartbeat.
Beside me, Selene cracks her knuckles as she adjusts her armour. I stand completely still, as though my feet have adhered to the ground.
King Halford continues, his voice steady yet reverent. “The path to becoming Aquilith is not an easy one. It demands not only skill but resilience and a heart unyielding in the face of darkness. Today’s trial is simple—enter the maze and be the first to emerge to be crowned a Keeper of our great kingdom of Celador.” His gaze shifts to the two of us, almost identical to his son’s unreadable expression. “May Morath guide you, body and heart.” With those words, he steps back from the edge of the balcony.
I swallow.
All or nothing, isn’t that what Rylan said? Leave it all on the battlefield; and make no mistake, with Selene as my competitor,this is war.
I breathe and wait.
The moment the horn sounds, signalling the start, my feet are moving. My breath catches as I race down the long pathway and under the arch that marks the entrance to the maze, walls of slick stone rising around me, casting dark shadows over the twisting path ahead. My fingers tingle with anticipation, my magic simmering beneath my skin. This is it—the final trial. No room for fear, for failure.
For Rylan. For Doran. For Celador. And for me.
My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing in the silence. I’m ready for this.
But the maze is nothing like I expected. The air is damp, thick with moisture, and each step feels heavier, as if the very stones beneath my feet resist movement. Selene’s footsteps echo behind me; her pace is steady, almost predatory. We’ve trained side by side these last months, but there is still no love lost between us—only the knowledge that we both hunger to emerge the victor, whatever our personal reasons for wanting it.
The path splits ahead, and I choose the left, instinct guiding me forward. Wary of traps, I hold out a hand, callingwater from the air around me, letting it pool at my fingertips. I force it into a stream, thin yet strong, and send it spiralling down the passage ahead. Like an extension of me, it slithers over the stone, mapping the path for any traps, any danger hidden beyond the corners. A spike of satisfaction ripples through me at the way I use my Strength strategically compared to when I first started, and I confidently follow my trail of water, moving carefully but quickly.
But Selene is close behind. I can feel her presence, her magic crackling with her trademark aggression. She is simply barrelling forward, using her magic to carve out her path, blasting obstacles out of her way. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her raising her hand, her own stream of water forming, but this one is thick and icy, carrying a frigid energy. She’s close enough behind me that I can hear her laboured breath. Flicking her wrist, she sends an icy stream toward my ankles in an attempt to trip me. I jump, narrowly avoiding her attack, my heart racing as I land and spin around to face her.
“Really, Selene?” I call back, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. “Still playing those games?”
She smirks, unbothered. “Just making sure you’ve hardened up, Eirabella. This isn’t a trial for the more ooey-gooey soft-hearted.”
I grit my teeth, pushing forward without retaliating. Let her play dirty—I’m not sinking to that level. I’m here to prove my worth, and I’ll do it by skill, not deception.
The maze twists and turns, and Selene and I split up, giving me some relief, but then I feel a surge of frustration as I encounter a dead end. My mind races, every nerve heightened. I close my eyes for a moment, placing my hand against the ice wall, and reach out with my magic. I send the faint pulse through the water within the maze walls. The faint vibrationguides me, drawing a map in my mind’s eye. Trusting my magic, I turn right up ahead, only to bang directly into Selene.
She raises her arms, and I see a wall of ice materialising in front of me, blocking my way. But with a focused thought, I melt the ice in front of me, stepping through the puddle left in its wake and giving Selene a quick glance before moving on.
As we push farther into the maze, the passages narrow even further, and the temperature drops, cold seeping through my clothes, biting into my skin. The walls feel like they’re closing in, pressing snugly with each step. My breathing grows shallow; the air itself seems scarce, and with every breath, I feel a little more lightheaded.
I hate small spaces. I fuckinghatethem. Images flash unbidden through my mind—dark, tight corners, stale air, the sound of Samfer’s mocking laughter as he kept me locked in that wardrobe. My hands tremble as I press them against the wall, feeling the rough, cold stone grounding me, fighting the memories that claw their way to the surface.
“Move or get out of the fucking way,” Selene hisses, shoving me against the wall as she pants, pushing herself ahead of me. The action knocks the air from my lungs, winding me further, and I brace both hands against the wall, struggling to steady my breathing, forcing the flashbacks away.
No.Not now, I tell myself, dragging my fingers along the ice wall, focusing on the feel of the maze rather than the echoes of the past. I’m not trapped; I’m in control. I can breathe; there’s plenty of air, and freedom is just around the corner—the fear is what’s not real.Gritting my teeth, I shake off the last shreds of panic, tightening my grip on the present. I take a step forward, pushing past the weight in my chest, until the trial, the maze, and Selene are all that matter.
Forcing one step in front of the other, I hear a crackling sound, and then feel a blast of frigid air as Selene sends abarrage of ice shards spiralling toward me. I duck, feeling the sharp edges slice past, and immediately form a shield that deflects the remaining shards.
“Aw, cute trick,” I shout at her.
She just laughs, the sound harsh and grating. “You could say I’m determined, Eirabella. Something you seem to lack.”
Ignoring her taunts, I press forward, my heart racing as I reach a wider section of the maze, taking a deep breath when I get there, relief flooding me. I stop, glancing around.
Then, just ahead, I see it—the first checkpoint.
But the floor is slick, treacherous, and I can feel the faint tug of a current running beneath it, suggesting some hidden danger. This isn’t a place to make a mistake. I need to think strategically, not just react to her sabotage.
I crouch, sending a ripple of water across the ground ahead. The moment it hits the centre of the passage, spikes of ice shoot up, deadly sharp, triggered by the weight and movement. I remember Master Tavyn having mentioned them in one of the Defence Warfare classes. I pull back quickly, calculating my options. A plan forms in my mind—a way to get across fast without turning into a skewered Eirabella. I call up a thin sheet of ice, layering it over the spikes just enough to form a makeshift bridge.. It holds as I carefully cross, and I make it to the other side, heart pounding. I let myself feel the victory. The thrill of being in the lead. I glance over as Selene catches up, her expression stormy. She made it too, of course, but the frustration in her eyes tells me all I need to know: I’m still ahead.
