The training grounds had changed.
Gone were the open skirmishes and elemental blitzes. Tonight, under an overcast sky, the air felt heavy — still, as if the world itself was holding its breath. The earth bore the scars of weeks of battle drills: craters, blackened scorch marks, cracked stone barriers. All reminders of the flames Kael had lit in his students.
And now, he would force them to burn hotter.
Kael stood at the center of the ring, eyes shut, Essence flowing silently from his form. His mind drifted through layered channels of affinity — Fire, Lightning, Storm, Kinetic. Around him, a geometric formation pulsed into the ground, etched not with runes, but through sheer intent.
The five trainees stood in a line, watching, unsure of what was coming.
Thorne cracked his neck. "Why's he meditating like that? What's he—"
Kael's eyes opened. Lightning sparked in one, flame in the other.
"This phase… is different," he said. "You've trained under pressure. Learned to adapt. You've been struck by my clones, taught to refine instinct, suppress fear, and move through pain."
They nodded — even Velura, usually stone-faced, was visibly bracing herself.
Kael raised a hand.
"But this time, you will not face me. You will face yourselves."
A pulse of Ether flared from his core.
Essence bent.
From the ground rose five figures — each identical in form and energy signature to the trainees they mirrored. Seris took a step back, breath catching as her clone turned to her with the same poised calm she carried. Thorne's double grinned wildly, sparks crackling along his forearms. Velura's clone tilted its head, silent and unreadable. Reyne's mirror form exhaled a mist of ice, posture perfect. And Gorran's? It simply stood there, like a living mountain, waiting.
"These are not illusions," Kael said. "They are refined projections molded by my control. Copies of you… without your flaws. Your hesitation. Your doubt."
He stepped back. "You will not win unless you change. Begin."
And with that, the Mirror Trial began.
Round One: Thorne Velmark
Thorne exploded forward first, lightning surging through his limbs. "I'll fry this punk!" he yelled.
His clone matched his speed — not hesitating, not boasting — and slammed into him with a mirrored bolt.
They clashed, but to Thorne's shock, every move he made… the clone anticipated. It knew his rhythm. His overextensions. His tells.
Within seconds, Thorne was on the defensive, struggling to keep up with himself.
Kael called out from the sidelines, arms crossed.
"You burn bright, but you waste energy on theatrics. You fight loud to cover fear. Fix it."
Thorne growled, blood on his lip. "I'm not afraid."
But deep down, he knew it was a lie.
Round Two: Reyne Talmaris
Reyne moved with elegance, her twin with perfection.
Ice met wind in fluid steps — but where she hesitated, her clone didn't. Every pause in transition, every flicker of doubt, the mirror punished her.
She created distance — then mist. Her clone predicted it.
"Control without will is just fragility," Kael said aloud. "You survive. But survival is not victory."
Reyne clenched her fists, shattered her own mist with a scream, and began weaving wind with reckless abandon — trying to escape her own patterns.
It started to work.
Round Three: Velura Asterin
She didn't speak. Neither did her clone.
Shadow and blood surged in sync.
It was like watching a dance of silent assassins — each flicker, each strike perfectly mirrored. Until Velura's shadow misaligned — just once — and the clone impaled her thigh with a dagger.
She gasped, rolling back, clutching her leg. Kael didn't move to help.
"You're used to hiding," he said coldly. "But shadows turn on those who never choose to stand in the light."
Velura's crimson eyes widened — and for the first time, she looked shaken.
Then… focused.
Round Four: Gorran Drehl
Two titans collided.
Stone crashed into stone. Gravity twisted the ground as their clashing Essence warped the arena.
But Gorran was slower. He breathed heavier. His movements were half a heartbeat behind.
His clone slammed him into the dirt, cracking the ground beneath him.
"You lean on weight," Kael said. "But even mountains erode if they never shift."
Gorran roared and stood again — not through stubbornness, but through something deeper. His Essence throbbed differently now. He was learning.
Round Five: Seris Vel'Nira
Her duel was… unnerving.
It was not violent. It was not fast.
Her clone didn't strike — it waited. Every time she tried to build rhythm, it disrupted the tempo. Her illusions fell apart. Her light pulses went unanswered. She felt… unseen.
Kael's voice cut through her confusion.
"Your brilliance is rhythm. But you've never fought in silence. Until now."
She stopped casting. Stopped breathing.
Listened.
Then her heartbeat became her song — and she moved.
The clone faltered, just once.
It was enough.
Later – After Midnight
The clones were gone.
The five trainees lay across the field, bruised, bleeding, but wide-eyed. They had all lost. But they had learned.
Kael stood in silence. Then finally:
"You faced your worst opponent. Yourselves."
He walked past them, then turned.
"Tomorrow… we do it again."
Meanwhile – Beyond the Gate
Arkzen stood beside the Sovereign beneath the writhing Gate. The Sovereign's claws moved through the air, sketching unnatural patterns, ancient runes that twisted when looked upon too long.
Arkzen's arms were crossed. "It's almost complete."
"Yes," the Sovereign replied. "The construct will be ready when the final surge begins. It must be."
"And if Kael rises too fast?"
The Sovereign's smile darkened.
"Then we let the Gate feed early."
They turned as the void behind them pulsed — something… massive was forming beyond the veil. But what it was, none could say.
Not yet.