The circle of flame closed around Aric like a cage. Heat pressed against his skin, searing yet refusing to kill him. It felt alive—testing, probing, waiting for him to falter.
The molten runes underfoot shifted, forming strange shapes that crawled like living serpents. From them rose figures—scaled beasts of fire and shadow, their forms indistinct yet brimming with malice.
"Constructs," Serenya whispered under her breath, fists trembling. "They're not real dragons, but they fight as if they are."
Aric's hand flew to his sword, the steel gleaming dully in the firelight. "Great," he muttered. "First day in dragon court and I'm already the entertainment."
The first construct lunged. It moved like liquid flame, its jaws opening wide enough to swallow him whole. Aric rolled to the side, heat licking his cheek, and slashed upward. His blade cut through the fiery body, which exploded in a spray of embers.
Another came, and another—three at once. They circled like predators, their eyes pits of fire.
Aric's muscles burned, sweat pouring, but he moved with the precision of a soldier. His sword darted and spun, steel meeting flame, each strike echoing with a hiss. Yet every time he cut one down, it reformed from the molten runes beneath his boots.
A voice boomed from the throne. Valeryn."Steel alone cannot defeat fire. Prove you are more than a blade."
Aric gritted his teeth, frustration gnawing at him. His body screamed from the heat, his lungs clawed for air. "More than a blade, huh?"
Then he remembered Serenya's words: The Trial itself chooses. Fire does not bend to will alone—it responds to bond.
He risked a glance at her. She was pressed against the barrier, golden eyes locked on his, fierce and unwavering. And in that gaze, he felt it—the bond forged when they faced death together.
Closing his eyes, Aric lowered his sword. The constructs surged forward to tear him apart—
—and the fire bent.
It swirled, twisting like a cyclone around him. The constructs shrieked as their forms unraveled, sucked into a vortex of heat that coiled around Aric like a living cloak. When he opened his eyes, the fire no longer burned him. It obeyed him.
Gasps rippled through the hall. Even the Dragon Lords leaned forward, their interest sharp.
Valeryn's golden eyes narrowed. His booming voice rang through the hall:"The fire accepts you."
The circle dissolved, flames sinking back into the black glass floor. Aric staggered, smoke rising from his skin, but he stood tall.
Serenya rushed to him, gripping his arm, her relief poorly hidden behind a sharp whisper. "Idiot. You could have died."
Aric smirked, though his voice was hoarse. "Yeah, but I didn't. Guess your old man owes me an audience now."
For the first time, Serenya's lips twitched in the shadow of a smile.
The Trial of Worth was over. But the game of the Courts had only begun.