Dawn crept slowly into the Starforge Hall, pale and cold, filtering through the high slits carved into the stone ceiling. The moon had only just begun to fade, leaving behind a faint silver residue in the air, like breath lingering after a long night.
Alisha stood at the center of the hall, barefoot on the silver sand. It shifted slightly beneath her feet, responding to the pulse of magic in the chamber. She had trained here before, but today felt different. Heavier. Final.
Across from her, Rowan traced a wide circle into the sand with his staff. Runes ignited one by one, forming sharp lines of light that hummed softly, vibrating in a way that made Alisha's bones ache.
"This is as far as Glimmer can take you," Rowan said. His voice echoed softly against the stone walls. "Radiance is not about release. It's about endurance."
Alisha flexed her fingers. The faint glow beneath her skin flickered in response. "And if I can't endure it?"
Rowan didn't answer right away. He finished the last rune and straightened, his expression grave.
"Then the Moonblood will overwhelm you," he said honestly. "Radiance doesn't forgive hesitation."
Her throat tightened. She glanced down at the runes circling her feet. They looked beautiful—and dangerous.
"Why does it feel like the magic keeps asking something from me?" she asked quietly. "Like it wants more than I can give."
Rowan's gaze softened. "Because Moonblood was never meant to be used lightly. It demands clarity. Purpose."
She swallowed. "And if I don't have that yet?"
"Then you find it," Rowan said. "Or it finds you."
He stepped back. "Enter the circle."
Alisha hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward.
The moment her foot crossed the boundary, the runes flared violently.
Light surged upward, slamming into her chest like a second heartbeat. Pain bloomed—not sharp, but crushing, emotional, suffocating. Memories she didn't recognize flooded her mind. Fear. Loss. Resolve. Grief that felt ancient and borrowed.
She cried out, knees buckling, but the light held her upright.
"Don't fight it!" Rowan called. "Anchor yourself!"
Alisha clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms. She forced herself to breathe. In. Out. In.
I am here, she told herself. I choose this.
The pressure shifted.
Instead of tearing outward, the power folded inward, wrapping around her spine, her heart, her pulse. It settled—dense, blazing, alive.
The runes dimmed slowly.
Alisha collapsed to her knees, gasping.
Rowan hurried forward, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. His eyes shone with awe.
"Radiance," he said quietly. "You held it."
Alisha laughed weakly through trembling breaths. "I thought it was going to tear me apart."
Rowan smiled faintly. "It almost did."
She looked down at her hands. They no longer flickered uncontrollably. The light was still there—but calm. Waiting.
She had crossed the threshold.