An ear-splitting screech sounded, and I saw the fire Phoenix, blazing, iridescent, fly through the doorway, up into the sky. It circled just below the domed roof of the colosseum, and we all watched it with a sense of wonder.
Chapter 10: Triumphs and Failures
No matter how often I had seen Pyrrhus before, the Fire Phoenix was still a majestic sight to behold. His human guise was just as beautiful, if slightly less otherworldly and terrifying. Blonde and bronze-skinned, he shone with a golden aura that radiated warmth, passion, the love of the forge, something he and Amber shared. He took her hands in both of his and kissed them one after the other. Then he stepped back and took his place behind her, the epitome of patience and quiet strength.
For all her nervousness before, Amber's demonstration went off without a hitch. She created fire in her hand, bent down, and lit the ground in a half-moon around her. The fire moved outward from her like a ripple and set the targets ablaze. She made it look so easy that I wanted to run down and hug her. I was so proud.
After she was dismissed, I expected her to leave the stadium, as Vivian had, to enjoy the rest she had been granted. Instead, she led Pyrrhus to the stands and took a seat on the opposite side of the arena. I was weirdly touched by the fact that she had stayed to watch the rest of our performances.
One by one, the students went down to the arena. Some of them gave mediocre performances that were shaky and uncertain. Oliver was one of these. He had no trouble calling his Lamia Princess. She regarded him patiently as he tried and tried to perform the firewave spell. By the time he finally produced a flame, it was small and quickly fizzled out without ever reaching the target. Naja uncoiled her long, slinky green tail and slithered toward Oliver. She folded him in an embrace and whispered words of comfort which seemed to do the trick. He left soonafter and was looking less dejected, happy to be in his mate's company.
Only two students failed to complete their demonstrations altogether. Instead of filling me with mean satisfaction, like maybe if I screw up it will be less noticeable because they already screwed up, their failure filled me with fear. I didn't want to fail this first test, and seeing it happen in front of my eyes, to students whose control outweighed my own, made the possibility of my own failure more real.
Only one student's performance outshone everyone else's by miles. Cleopatra Invicto, the Empress's daughter, walked down to the arena with grace and determination etched in every aspect of her body language. These past few weeks I had heard many students call her arrogant, as if being sure of one's capabilities was something to be ashamed of rather than a quality to be admired. I did admire Cleopatra. She wasn't arrogant. She merely carried herself as someone whose worth had never been questioned. As if being worthy of great things were a birthright.
She knew exactly who and what she was, and she lived it unapologetically. There was something very alluring about a person like that. I knew that those who criticized it were only plagued by uncertainty about themselves.
It took her only moments to call forth her mate. It was that Diamond-Level control she had arrived at the Academy with, control far superior to any other student's. The rest of us would be playing catch-up to her for the next three years. Some of us would never be able to reach her level of skill.
When the fissure in reality opened for Cleopatra, the being that emerged was at first just a silhouette of vast white wings, radiant, frightful, spreading out behind a figure that seemed tobe made of light itself. Then details emerged: a winged man with armor of silver and gold, a sword that burned with holy fire.
He gazed upon Cleopatra with an age-old satisfaction. He had promised her his sword, his light, and his eternal devotion. In his eyes, she was a worthy mate for one such as he. They were bonded, and he would follow her to the ends of the world if he had to. That much was clear.
As Asau fell in behind her, Cleopatra turned her attention to the targets, some of whom had been replaced with fresh ones between demonstrations. She snorted and then glanced at the line of instructors standing to the side of the arena.
"Straw men for targets? You should have given me something harder."
Without hesitation, she reached up into the sky, brought her hand down into a fist, and slammed it into the ground before her. It was as if she were pulling a ray of pure light down from the sun. It enveloped, not just one target, but all of them. It flashed, and we all shielded our eyes. Some students shouted in alarm because there was a clap like thunder.
When we could open our eyes, the light was gone. Cleopatra came to her feet. She flashed a triumphant smile, brilliant and wild as the dust settled around the straw targets that lay in crumpled, unrecognizable heaps.
There was no clapping or cheering from the students who had remained to watch the last two demonstrations, as per the rules that the Principal had laid out, but all the students started talking to each other, whispering behind their hands. I had no idea what they were saying. My mind was blank. The only thought that popped up was, how in the world was I supposed to follow a performance like that?
Even the instructors looked shellshocked. Principal Lucius found his voice, but he didn't sound as steady as he normally did. "Congratulations, Miss Invicto. Your demonstration was, uhm, successful. You may either retire or stay to watch the last demonstration."
Before leaving the arena and finding a seat on the opposite side of the stadium, Cleopatra turned to look up at the stands where I alone was sitting, waiting for my turn. The look she gave me was one of challenge. My stomach, that had already been fluttering, did a slow, sickening roll.
She was challenging me to do better. But how could I? She had just finished performing a holy light fusion spell, magic that was far beyond my current capabilities. No matter how gracefully I performed my firewave spell, with how much precision, it could never measure up. Anything I accomplished would pale in comparison to her show of skill.
Sitting there, seeing all eyes turn to me as those still left in the colosseum waited for me to step down into the arena, I felt like shrinking back in my seat, and wished vehemently for the earth just to swallow me whole. When that didn't happen, I accepted that I would have to face my fears and at least attempt to perform the firewave spell.
The loose sand and stones scrunched under the soles of my shoes as I walked up to where the other students had given their demonstrations. My stomach fluttered, my heart thumped nervously in my chest and in my ears, almost loud enough to drown out every other sound.
Caleb walked over to give me his expected words of encouragement, but he might as well have saved his breath. I nodded dully in all the right places, but didn't hear a single word.The roaring noise of terror within me was much too loud and distracting for me to listen to anything else.
I knew I had to summon Vaerath. It wasn't difficult; I had done it in lessons many times before, and it had gotten easier. I closed my eyes and imagined him, the feel of his lips on mine, the strength of his arms, the feel of his hair, and his skin. The way he looked and smelled and felt. It all came crashing into my mind, and the power was there within me, beckoning, urging me to use it.
The fissure into the Hestawyn Realm opened, and a massive dragon with midnight-black scales and orange, burning eyes flew through the doorway. He gave a roar deep enough to make the earth under my feet shake. I smiled and opened my eyes just as he landed and shimmered and melted in front of me.
He was poetry in motion as he sauntered toward me with a self-assurance that was catching. Nothing about him was weak or uncertain. The way he looked at me was with a devotion that was ancient and steady, full of quiet faith. If he believed in me this much, why shouldn't I believe in myself as well?
He hugged me tightly, picked me up, and spun me around. When he placed me back on my feet, I was laughing. Then I realized that all the instructors and students who had stayed were waiting for me to demonstrate my firewave spell.
I raised my hands and held them in front of me, palms down. We had studied the theory of creating fire with magic. I felt what was discussed in those lessons, how it was possible to draw from the natural elements and bring something into existence that hadn't been there before. I had done it in class many times with varying degrees of success. Now, it was time to do it when it counted. I gathered my power within me, and it rose from mystomach, my heart, and my mind; it built up like pressure. Every time I thought I had enough to create the wall of fire I wanted, I remembered Oliver's spark of fire that had petered out without hitting his intended target.
The fear I felt at failing fed into my power, making me gather more and more of it until I felt it hum in every strand of my hair, in my fingertips, and thrumming within my very blood.
Vaerath must have sensed the danger, because he tried to warn me, "Easy, my Lady. Just gather what you have control over..."