Devein's gaze softened. "Remember what you created yesterday, Xerxez," he said quietly. "I know you can do it."
Xerxez exhaled — a slow, measured breath. His angered fist unfurled, fingers trembling slightly as he raised his hand into the air.
From the depths of his mind, light began to stir — a flickering wisp, dancing like a living ember behind his eyelids. Then came the hum, the surge, the sensation of energy crawling across his skin like a storm's current.
And then— fire.
A violet flame bloomed in his palm, its glow otherworldly, pulsing with life.
Gasps rippled through the hall. The Fire-Faction instructor stepped forward, his eyes was wide with awe.
"A… violet flame," he breathed. "By the spirits… this is rare. Master Caldier was right — you carry a special gift."
He turned toward Evenneor. "Show proper respect to the young prince of Thallerion. He has earned his place here — perhaps more than you."
