The Evaluation Grounds stretched before them, a vast arena carved from cold stone and an older silence. Towering pillars lined the path, their surfaces etched with sigils that pulsed faintly—like the very heartbeat of the stone itself. At the center rose a bronze brazier, its surface blackened by ages, yet within it burned a flame that seemed to breathe.
It burned without fuel, a steady, pure blue. There was no smoke, no crackle; only a quiet, living glow that felt less like fire and more like an eye—watching… judging.
Professor Aadhira's voice cut through the chamber, sharp and unyielding as flint.
"This," she said, "is the Astral Flame. It exists not to harm you, but to awaken what sleeps within you—your hidden potential, the bonds and powers that lie dormant in your soul. Or perhaps…" she paused, her gaze sweeping across them, "something else."
A ripple of whispers passed through the students.
"So it's true? We'll awaken powers here?" "What if I get something rare?" "Hah, I'll be stronger than all of you."
Excitement spread quickly—until Aadhira's eyes hardened, slicing through the chatter.
"Do not mistake this for a gift without cost," she said, her tone dropping to a chill. "The flame may awaken your potential—whether it manifests as magic, as a soul-bound weapon, or something yet unnamed. But it will not make you worthy of it. To master what it grants, to claim its succession—that burden lies on you, and you alone."
She let the words settle before continuing.
"One more thing. A rule none of you can afford to forget: control. Control yourself, control your power. One slip of will, one careless mistake, and the flame will consume you. And know this—death is not the worst fate it can offer."
The mood shifted instantly. Laughter faded. Smiles fell away. Where excitement had shimmered, unease now crept in.
Aadhira's lips softened into the faintest smile. "My apologies… if I've unsettled you. But fear, too, is a lesson worth learning."
Her voice rang with finality. "We begin the trials now. First row—step forward. One by one."
The line moved.
The first student—a tall boy with too much confidence—strode ahead with a grin. "Relax, everyone. We've got this."
He laid his hand on the flame. It flared suddenly, blue bleeding into crimson. A faint scarlet aura shimmered around his frame, clinging weakly to his skin.
Gasps rose.
Aadhira marked her ledger. "Scarlet aura—faint. Fire affinity, unstable."
The boy pulled back his hand, frowning. "That's it? I feel normal again!"
Aadhira's sharp tone cut across him. "Duffer. Step aside. Others are waiting."
Snickers followed him as the next students moved forward.
One by one, colors revealed themselves—
Green, soft and soothing, the sign of a healer.
Yellow, faintly sparking, lightning's promise.
Brown, steady and solid, the weight of stone.
Each manifestation sparked murmurs of wonder or envy. The Astral Flame never reacted the same way twice, always shifting, always changing.
Then came Kael. He strutted to the front, smirk firmly in place. Without hesitation, he thrust his hand into the glow.
The flame exploded.
Blue erupted into raging crimson, the brazier roaring like a furnace. Oppressive heat rolled through the chamber, forcing students back. A burning red outline flared around Kael, power pulsing outward in waves.
Gasps and whispers followed. "Strong fire affinity."
Kael basked in it, his smirk widening.
Professor Aadhira's quill scratched the ledger. Her voice was calm, but her eyes were sharp. "Impressive. Strong affinity… but dangerously volatile."
The students buzzed in hushed tones—until a hand touched Sumit's shoulder.
He turned. Arav stood there, calm, steady, with that quiet grin.
"If you don't mind," Arav said softly, "I'll go first."
Sumit blinked, then nodded. "…Alright."
Arav slipped past the line, the students' protests dying in the weight of his presence. He reached the brazier, unshaken.
He extended his hand.
The Astral Flame convulsed. The steady blue twisted into a spiraling vortex, sparks leaping wildly. A gale howled across the platform, so fierce students shielded their faces.
Within the storm, something took shape.
A bow. Long, elegant, radiant as though carved from sunlight itself.
It floated in the flame's heart, blazing with near-divine brilliance, before dissolving into his aura. His outline erupted in golden-white light, towering, unyielding.
And then—silence.
The gale died in an instant, the brazier returning to a calm blue.
Professor Aadhira's composure cracked for a fraction of a second—shock flashing in her eyes—before she masked it. Students whispered feverishly.
"Who is he?"
"Did you see that?!"
"What family is he from?"
"Enough," Aadhira said sharply, her voice tighter than before. "Move along, Arav. Others await."
He returned to his place without a word, his expression calm, detached. As though nothing had happened.
The line continued, but every awakening that followed seemed muted, pale against the memory of that golden bow.
And still, the flame burned on—its blue core unblinking. Waiting.
Then—Sumit's turn came.
He stepped forward. Heart hammering, palms damp, yet his feet carried him without falter. This is it. My chance to prove myself.
He stretched his hand toward the fire.
Nothing.
The flame remained steady, unchanged. To everyone watching, it was as if nothing had happened. A boy and a fire. Ordinary.
But Sumit saw differently.
The flame folded inward, spiraling into his palm. Threads of blue light poured into his skin, rushing up his arm. His breath caught—the fire wasn't reacting to him. It was entering him.
Heat coursed through him, alive and searching.
Then came the whispers.
A dozen voices, faint and fractured. Words in no tongue he knew. They tangled around his ears, pressed into his mind, incomprehensible but heavy.
He froze. His eyes widened, locked on the flame. He tried to move. Tried to breathe. Couldn't.
Professor Aadhira frowned. Her inner sight sharpened.
There. Around Sumit's body shimmered a faint circle of blue light—an aura invisible to normal eyes. It pulsed in rhythm with the flame. And the fire itself—unmistakably—was pouring into him.
Her voice cut sharply. "Enough. It's over. Step back."
But Sumit didn't move.
The whispers grew louder. His chest heaved. Sweat dripped down his temple.
Then—
His knees gave way.
The circle shattered in a ripple of light, and Sumit collapsed to the floor.
Gasps filled the hall.
"What happened?!"
"Did it fail?"
"No… no, that wasn't normal…"
"Silence!" Aadhira snapped. Her hand flicked toward two nearby students. "Take him to the infirmary. Now."
They hurried him away. The Astral Flame pulsed once more—calm, silent, like an eye closing.
Professor Aadhira faced the others, her tone clipped. "That's enough for today. Dismissed. Lectures begin tomorrow."
The students left in hushed clusters, voices tight with fear and speculation.
And through it all, the Astral Flame burned on—silent, watchful, waiting still.