Morning light splintered through the high windows of the Grand Atrium as Arin and Lireya ascended the marble steps, the restored Lament of the Second Wind tucked safely into Arin's satchel. The Atrium was already filling with students in ceremonial robes, their hushed conversations swirling like currents around the central dais where Headmaster Drayven stood waiting.
Arin's pulse thrummed in time with the fragment's soft heartbeat against his chest. Today was the Trial of Dual Currents—the culmination of the Academy's elementalist examination, and the moment when every Dual-Core hopeful either proved their harmony of earth and wind or faltered under its strain.
Lireya fell into step beside him, her confidence a steadying anchor. "Remember," she whispered, "breathe into the currents. Let them guide you; don't force them."
He nodded, drawing a steadying breath. The winds of doubt had threatened him all night, but the memory of Althé's grateful smile—and the fragment's lighter weight—bolstered his resolve.
At the foot of the dais, Professor Merial held the Lament aloft for all to see, its cover now a soft argent glow. Behind her, two grand braziers—one of earth-wrought stone, the other carved of swirling glass—stood ready. Drayven's voice, calm and resonant, carried over the crowd:
"Today, each candidate will call upon the twin elements within them. First, they must shape the earthen gauntlet to protect; then, they must summon the Zephyr Blade to sever through illusion. Balance is the key. Any excess of one without the other spells failure."
A hush fell as the first student stepped forward—her earth magic solid but her wind currents sputtering—and faltered under the strain. Murmurs rippled through the audience. Arin's heart clenched; every failure reminded him of the stakes.
When his turn came, Arin approached the stone brazier. He knelt, placing his palm upon its cold rim. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the Academy's ambient mana, feeling the earth-core respond with a steady thrum through his fingers. Slowly, he drew a pillar of stone upward, shaping it around his forearm like a sturdy gauntlet. The onlookers leaned forward as the rough-hewn earth polished itself at his will, interlocking plates forming a seamless protective cuff.
A single crackling ember leapt from the brazier as the gauntlet solidified. Lireya let out a quiet breath of relief. Arin flexed his wrist; the earth responded perfectly—unyielding yet supple.
He rose and advanced to the wind brazier, its glass surface rippling like captured air. Drawing the wind-core to the fore, he raised his arms wide. A faint breeze spiraled at his ankles, gathering speed, curling upward into a blade of translucent wind. He guided it slowly toward an array of spectral targets—illusions conjured by Professor Merial to test precision.
The breeze-blade sang as it cut through the first illusion, dispersing it in a swirl of motes. The second and third shattered in quick succession. On the fourth, a half-twisted figure of stone and mist, the blade wavered—but Arin steeled himself, remembering Lireya's counsel: "Let them guide you." With a subtle shift of intent, he let the wind and earth coalesce, and the blade found its mark cleanly.
Silence bloomed across the Atrium. Then, from Drayven's place on the dais, a single nod. Flames danced in the brazier of wind as the trials shifted to the next phase: the Dual Weave.
For this final test, Arin was joined by Lireya herself, chosen as his partner in recognition of their shared quest for the fragment. Together they stepped into the circle inscribed on the marble floor. The earth gauntlet glowed faintly, and the wind blade hovered at his side; Lireya's aura—pure wind magic—sparkled around her.
At Drayven's signal, they began the weave: Arin's earth currents knitting into Lireya's spiraling winds, forming a lattice of kinetic stone and air. At each touch, the marble beneath them resonated, glyphs igniting in the floor. For a breathless moment, the two currents wove seamlessly—stone pillars drifted on gusts of wind, and gusts were tempered by rocky sinew.
But then, as they reached the centre of the circle, a tremor rattled the Atrium. A ripple of unstable magic pulsed from the audience's edge—someone was trying to disrupt the trial. Arin's earth gauntlet quivered; Lireya's winds veered off-course.
Instinctively, Arin reached inward for the fragment's steadiness. He pressed his hand to his chest, feeling its calm pulse. Then he guided that quiet heartbeat into the weave, anchoring their magic. Lireya recognized the surge; she adjusted her gusts to match the rhythm of his core.
The lattice reformed stronger than before, sealing around them in a dome of crystalline earth and swirling wind. At their final breath, they released the weave upward—an eruption of sand-lanced air and azure dust that arced above the dais before bursting in a cascade of lights.
Silence. Then—thunderous applause. The students rose, and even the faculty members exchanged astonished glances. Drayven's expression held a faint, proud smile as he descended the dais.
He approached Arin and Lireya, pausing before them. He placed a hand first on Arin's shoulder, then on Lireya's. "You have proven not only your mastery of the Dual-Core but also your bond of trust," he said, his voice carrying across the Atrium. "You are the first to complete the Dual Weave under trial conditions in over a century."
Arin felt his heart soar. He glanced at Lireya, whose eyes shone with unspoken elation. Together, they bowed to the Headmaster.
As the crowd began to disperse, Drayven drew Arin aside. Lowering his voice, he said, "Well done, Arin. Tomorrow, we speak of what comes next—and of the fragment's true purpose."
Arin nodded, determination blazing in his chest. The trial was won. The path ahead—into the secrets of Althé, the wyrm's legacy, and the fragment's destiny—lay open at last. And for the first time, he felt ready to walk it.