The signal is given, and we begin.
Selene is the first to act, her approach as aggressive as always. A block of ice quickly forms on the mount ahead of her, then she summons a torrent of water, carving broad strokes into the ice with powerful, sweeping motions. The general shape of the drakor quickly emerges from the block, the force of her magic undeniable. But as I glance over at her work, I can seethat already the finer details are lacking. The scales on the dragon’s body are rough, the feathers of the phoenix more like jagged spikes. Selene is creating something fast, but it lacks the delicate intricacies that make the original so mesmerising.
Doran, on the other hand, is methodical and precise. He starts by creating a block of ice and then sketching the outline of the statue using thin streams of water, marking out the key features before he begins carving. His movements are careful, almost surgical, as he carves each section with a combination of sharp ice blades and controlled bursts of water. His sculpture is clean and well-proportioned, but I notice it lacks the creative spark that brings the original statue to life.
I turn my attention back to the statue, feeling Rylan’s eyes bore into me. He’d drilled into me the importance of visualising the shape in my mind’s eye, of manifesting the essence of what I wanted to create rather than treating the ice like a block to chisel. I had learned to see the shapes in my mind first, to feel it, and then let my magic bring it to life in the medium, be it water, ice, or snow.
As Rylan trained me, I close my eyes and visualise the sculpture in my mind—the way the drakor’s body coils around the gallenfyre, the graceful curve of the wings, the life that seems to pulse through every inch of the statue. It becomes alive for me, and I can feel the essence of the creatures, their spirits entwined in this frozen dance, and I let that feeling guide me.
Slowly, I extend my hands, but barely move them. Instead, I focus my energy on the water vapour in the air, gently guiding it to form the shapes I need, rather than chiselling the shapes out of a ready-made block of ice. The water responds to my will, moulding and shifting without the need for physical manipulation. Once I feel it fit into place, I freeze it. The process is almost meditative, each movement of myfingers causing the ice to form delicate scales on the drakor’s body, sharp yet smooth, and feathers on the gallenfyre’s wings, each one perfectly defined.
I’m breathing hard, sweat trickling down my temples, but I can’t help the sense of pride that wells up inside me. The statue that’s taking form before me is a testament to everything I’ve learned, every lesson Rylan drilled into me. It’s not just a sculpture; it’s a manifestation of the essence I’ve come to understand.
As the signal is given to stop, I jolt, lost in my work, and I steal a glance at the other sculptures. Selene’s is imposing, but it lacks the delicate intricacies that give the original its life. Doran’s is clean and impressive but lacks the details that make it a work of art. My heart pounds as I look at mine, seeing it for what it is—a near-exact replica of the original statue, the two legendary creatures locked in their eternal dance, their eyes filled with the life I’d imagined in my mind.
The king steps forward, his gaze sweeping over the three sculptures. He pauses before Selene’s, noting the sheer power it exudes. He studies Doran’s with a critical eye, clearly impressed by the precision of his work. Finally, he stands before mine, his expression unreadable, but I see his eyes linger on the details, on the movement I’ve captured. There’s an almost imperceptible nod as he looks over at me for a moment, eyes filled with clear approval. Satisfaction floods through me. Hopefully, the crowd will agree with their leader.
“The time has come for the spectators to vote,” the king announces. “Consider each sculpture carefully, and choose the one that you believe best embodies the spirit and artistry of the original.”
The crowd is abuzz as they discuss among themselves, and I hold my breath, trying not to let the tension get to me. This is out of my hands now. One by one, the votes are cast. I try tokeep my composure, but my heart is pounding in my chest, each second stretching out longer than the last.
Finally, the votes are tallied, and the king raises his hand for silence. “The winner of this second challenge,” he declares, “is Eirabella.”
A wave of relief and pride washes over me as the crowd erupts in applause. I did it. The realisation is almost overwhelming, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.
As I step back to rejoin the others, I catch Rylan’s eye. The pride in his gaze is absolute, and it makes my heart feel like it splits into a grin. If the trials ended right here, I’d feel like I had won the whole thing.
But even as I stand there, soaking in the victory, I can’t ignore the way Selene glares at me, her eyes narrowed with jealousy. I’ve bested her in this challenge, but I know she won’t take it lightly. The final test is still ahead, and it’s clear that Selene will stop at nothing to ensure that she wins. And by nothing, I mean not a fucking thing.
THIRTY-FOUR
Eirabella
When the threeof us are brought back to the field after we’re sequestered in the combat room for a quick lunch and some rest, the training grounds have been completely transformed into a frozen obstacle course. This time, as the three of us stand waiting for the king to announce the challenges, all three of us are fidgeting, shifting from foot to foot. If Doran wins, it will be a three-way tie, and we’ll all move on to the tie-breaking challenges. But if either Selene or I win, only the two of us will continue. The stakes have never been higher, and we all know it.
The king steps forward, his voice cutting through the murmurs. “Disciples, the final challenge is a test of speed, agility, and bravery. You will race down the Frozen Rapids, a treacherous course filled with obstacles that will test your reflexes, your control, and your will to win. The first to cross thefinish line will be declared the victor of this third and final trial.”
The Frozen Rapids—the mere mention of it sends a chill down my spine. I’ve heard tales of this course—a winding river of ice and water, filled with sharp turns, hidden traps, and sudden drops. It’s a place where the environment itself is your enemy, and only those with the quickest reflexes and sharpest minds can hope to conquer it.
As we approach the starting line, I glance at my competitors. Selene’s eyes are narrowed with determination, and Doran’s expression is more controlled than ever, but there’s a fire in his eyes that tells me he’s not going down without a fight.
As for me, I have only been training for three months, while the other two have been using their Strength for years, and training with the castle masters for months. I have no right to be here. But I was chosen to be here by the crown prince, who wholly believes in me. And no one can take that away from me.
The signal is given, and we’re off.
The first stretch is a steep incline, the ice slick beneath our feet. The ground drops sharply away, almost a vertical drop, leading into a narrow, twisting path lined by jagged ice formations jutting out, their sharp edges glinting in the light. Below, the path widens into a series of icy ledges and frozen waterfalls, each one more treacherous than the last.
Selene takes the lead almost immediately, using her power to propel herself forward with massive bursts of water. She’s like a force of nature, ploughing through the course with sheer power. I can see the determination in her every move—she’s not just competing; she’s out to win at any cost.
Doran and I are close behind, both of us taking a more cautious approach. I create small ice footholds to help navigate the sharp turns, an ice staff in my hand to help me pushmyself away from the jagged wall. My magic flows effortlessly as I use it in short bursts, focusing on maintaining my speed without losing control. Doran uses his combat reflexes to dodge the traps and obstacles, his movements precise and calculated. He’s keeping pace with Selene, but I can see the strain starting to show.
As we reach the first sharp turn, I mentally prepare myself. The ice is so slick, almost impossibly so, the edges of the path dangerously close to a fatal precipice. One wrong move, and I could plummet into the icy depths below. I use a burst of water to propel myself around the curve, my breath catching as my feet momentarily lose grip, slipping under me. I force myself to stay calm as I regain my footing, to focus on the rhythm of my magic guiding me forward.
The course grows more treacherous as we descend, the ice slicker, the turns sharper. For once in my life, I can feel the cold seeping into my bones, but I push it aside, focusing on the path ahead. Selene is still in the lead, but I’m gaining on her, using the agility and precision I’ve honed over countless hours of training with Chasina and Rylan. Every time I hit a smooth stretch of ice, I use my momentum to glide forward, gaining precious ground on Selene.
But just as I start to close the gap, the first major obstacle appears—a series of whirlpools dotted around the ice track that threaten to pull us off course. The icy water churns violently, and I know that if I fall into one of those, it would spell the end of my race. And my life. Selene surges forward, her strength allowing her to slide right through the path that edges along the whirling water. But as she does, she glances back with a smirk, and I realise too late that she’s planning something. With a vicious swipe of her hand, she sends a wave of water crashing back towards Doran and me.
The force of the wave is immense, and panic seizes me as it knocks me off balance. I slip, my feet skidding out from under me as I slide toward the rim of the whirlpool. The icy waters below roar with deadly intent, and for a moment, I feel my heartbeat racing—I conjure an icicle a few yards ahead and grab onto it, pulling myself to my feet, away from the drop.
