The sun had barely shifted in the sky by the time the last group of cadets stumbled across the finish line. Just like that, phase one was over. The trial that had knocked so many of us flat was now behind us, but it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like a warning.
Two hundred and fifty-something hopefuls had started this morning.
Only one hundred and ninety-six remained.
Some had limped away, barely upright. Others had been carted off, unconscious. A few never even made it past halfway. I didn't know their names. Doubt anyone would remember them tomorrow.
From the stands, I could hear the low buzz of whispers—nobles with crests on their robes, retired war veterans with medals clinking quietly, imperial recruiters scribbling notes onto enchanted parchment. All of them watching. Measuring.
We weren't students yet.
We were prospects.
The instructor stepped forward again, climbing onto the arena's center platform. His voice echoed with crystal-enhanced clarity, thanks to the small Acarna amplifier clipped to his collar.
"Congratulations," he said. "You've survived the first phase."
His pause stretched a moment too long.
"The easy phase."
I heard a couple of groans from somewhere behind me. Someone muttered under their breath. If that run through the pressure corridor was considered easy, what in the Core's name came next?
He didn't leave us wondering long.
"Now listen well," he continued. "The second phase is where most of you will fall. This is where we separate potential… from resolve."
I straightened slightly, feeling the familiar ache in my shoulders. The weights under my tunic hadn't been removed. They dragged on my muscles like old friends whispering, Still with you. Still here.
"You'll each be tasked with lifting a special kind of stone," the instructor said. "Commonly called a Gravity Stone. You will then carry it halfway across the same five-hundred-meter course."
A wave of discomfort rippled through the cadets. Some shifted. Others muttered. I stayed still, focused.
Then a voice cut through the group.
"Does the weight increase the farther we go, or does it stay the same?"
We all turned.
The guy stepped forward like he owned the air around him—silver-blonde hair falling perfectly into place, sharp jawline set like stone. He moved like he was used to being watched.
"Step forward," the instructor said.
He did. Calm. Controlled.
"Flynn Wilder."
Gasps broke out immediately. Whispers chased each other across the group like sparks on dry grass.
"Wilder? As in… those Wilders?"
"Wait, General Kaidan's son? Seriously?"
"Warborn nobility. Combat bloodline."
I narrowed my eyes at him. So that's who he was. Flynn had been in my heat during the first test. Fastest runner in the group—clean, efficient. Barely even looked winded at the end. I remembered thinking he wasn't smug about it.
Worse. He was comfortable with it.
Flynn repeated his question. "Does the stone get heavier as we proceed?"
The instructor's mouth twitched—almost a smile.
"No," he said. "Not heavier. Lighter."
Confused murmurs followed.
"They're not actually gravity-infused minerals," he explained. "Each stone contains a hollow Acarna core. The more energy you pour into it, the lighter it becomes. If you're strong enough to activate that effect—great. If not?"
He gave a shrug that might as well have been a death sentence.
"You won't even get to try."
I caught a few cadets staring at their hands. Like maybe the answers were hidden in their fingers.
But I wasn't worried about the stone.
My eyes scanned the crowd, and that's when I saw him.
Ryn.
Stretching his shoulders like a sleepy bear, yawning like this was all just a mild inconvenience. I chuckled to myself. I could still picture him from earlier—dragging his legs through the last few meters of phase one like a dying beetle.
He had barely made it.
And now he looked like he already regretted breathing.
The instructor clapped once, sharp and final.
"Phase two begins now. Groups will proceed in order. Line up when your name is called."
One by one, cadets shuffled into formation again. The path still glowed faintly from phase one, its crystal walls humming low like a living thing. But now, a new set of obstacles stood between us and the other side.
The Gravity Stones.
Each one was roughly the size of a small barrel—dark gray with streaks of deep blue, jagged, quiet, and massive. I felt it the moment I approached mine.
That pull.
A pressure that wasn't physical—at least, not yet. The stone felt alive in a way nothing that heavy and still should. Not glowing. Not moving. But I could feel it.
It wanted my energy.
"In your group," the instructor said, "you'll have sixty seconds to lift the stone. If you can't, you're disqualified. Once you lift it, carry it as far as you can. Minimum distance to pass is two hundred and fifty meters."
I flexed my fingers, letting the tension settle into my spine.
Two-fifty, huh?
A week ago, I would've panicked.
Now?
Now it just felt like another run before breakfast.
The instructor raised his hand.
"On my mark… set—"
Snap.
A flash of light erupted from the ring on his finger.
Time started.
I stepped forward.
The moment my palms touched the Gravity Stone, something sharp yanked at my core. It wasn't a drain—it was a rip. A violent surge that tore through my center and stole the breath from my lungs.
My knees almost gave way.
Not because of the weight. But because of the emptiness.
The stone didn't just take my Acarna.
It drank it.
So that's what he meant…
I forced my legs steady. My breathing evened out. This wasn't new. The crystal chamber in the basement had prepared me for this kind of drain. I locked my stance, narrowed my focus, and suppressed the instinct to panic.
Then I lifted.
And almost laughed.
The stone was light. Ridiculously light.
To me, it felt like a sack of leaves. I could've flung it over one shoulder and jogged the course in my sleep.
But I didn't.
My mother's voice echoed clearly in my head:
> "Don't show off. The ones who shine too brightly too early… are the first to be caged."
So I strained my face just enough.
Let my arms twitch. Let my breath hitch.
Just enough.
Around me, the others were struggling. Groans filled the air as cadets bent over their stones, some sweating through their uniforms before the timer had even hit thirty seconds.
Flynn, of course, was already moving.
He held his stone with both hands like it weighed nothing, posture upright, pace steady, hair catching the light as he charged into the path like a knight in some ancient tale.
Two others followed behind him.
When the third cadet started down the path, I moved.
Every step I took was careful. Calculated. I didn't stagger, but I made it look like I could. I kept just behind the third cadet, close enough to pass.
I didn't rush. I stayed just behind the second cadet, making sure I crossed the line third.
Let them have their moment.
The crowd erupted as Flynn passed first, his family's crest already being waved proudly in the stands. The second boy stumbled across next, half-dragging his stone.
Then me.
I stepped past the finish with a slow, deliberate exhale and gently set my stone down, careful not to drop it with too much ease. I turned around just in time to see what I expected.
Silence.
Then came the sounds of breaking. Grunts. A sharp cry. The heavy thuds of cadets collapsing.
One by one, they fell. Some dropped the stones halfway, their arms too numb to keep going. Others simply buckled sideways, energy spent. The medics moved quickly, gliding across the field with glowing stretchers, scooping up the unconscious and the broken.
When the dust settled, only five of us out of twenty had made it.
I watched in silence, letting my face stay still, unreadable. But I kept note of everything—the instructors whispering to one another, their pens scribbling furiously. I could feel the eyes on me, curious and searching, but none of them truly knew what had just happened.
And that was good.
I stepped aside to wait for the next group. My breath was calm, even. I glanced toward the crowd, scanning the rows for a familiar face.
Still no sign of her.
But I felt her. Even if I couldn't see her, I knew she was out there. Watching.
And somewhere deep inside... smiling.
The noise in the arena dulled to a low hum. Excitement faded, replaced by tension. That sharp, heavy quiet you get before a storm.
The last cadets in my group were carried off, their bodies limp, soaked in sweat. Some were trembling. A few were out cold. It was clear now—the Gravity Stones weren't just a test of strength. They were a test of control.
The instructor stepped forward again, his voice crisp and clear.
> "This phase was designed to test more than raw ability. Many of you believed reaching the finish line was the challenge."
He paused for effect, scanning the crowd.
> "You were wrong."
A wave of murmurs swept through the cadets still standing.
> "The real test was whether you could control your Acarna. The Gravity Stones absorb energy. Too little, and you can't lift them. Too much—and they drain you dry."
> "Fifteen of you didn't fall from the stone's weight—but from your own inability to control your output."
I stood among the ones who had passed, arms crossed loosely, eyes calm. But inside, I was replaying every word.
So that was it. Not a test of force.
A test of restraint.
The hints were there. He'd even said it, right before we started. Most had missed it. Hell, even the ones who made it probably didn't realize what really happened.
Including the return run.
> "Those who reached the 250-meter mark were told to return to the start—stone in hand," the instructor continued. "Many of you were surprised it felt easier the second time. That's because the stone, having absorbed the ideal amount of energy, no longer interfered with the field's intensity. It shielded you."
I nodded to myself slightly.
That explained the strange ease I'd felt going back. The path didn't just seem easier—it was. The energy from the field didn't bite into me like before. The stone was already full. Balanced. Satisfied.
I hadn't realized it then, but I'd hit that perfect middle ground.
Then I saw him.
Ryn.
<-Ryn's POV>
They called my group up.
I didn't rush. Didn't tense. Just walked over, arms loose, letting them hang like they were made of rope. No point pretending I was excited—everyone here could see it. I wasn't. Just wanted to get this over with and move on.
Same drill as the others. Find your assigned stone. Lift. Walk.
When I saw the number etched into the one they handed me, I frowned. That was odd.
Didn't this belong kael.
I remembered the instructors whispering about him. I remembered the way the crowd went still when he finished. That stone was his?
Fine. Whatever. I could lift it like any other.
I grabbed it.
And blinked.
It came up like a sack of air. Light. Too light.
I didn't react—at least, not outwardly. But inside? Yeah, I was already putting it together.
This one's already full...
That was the trick, then. These stones weren't just heavy—they fed off energy. Kael must've dumped a ridiculous amount of his own into this thing. Now, it was... satisfied. Dormant.
I glanced around. The instructors didn't say anything. The crowd was cheering for someone else. I looked up—caught Kael's eyes for a second. He was watching. He knew.
So I walked.
Didn't run. Didn't grunt. Just walked the path while the others behind me huffed and cursed and staggered. I moved slow, but not because I was trying to make a point.
I just didn't need to try.
Made it to the 250-meter mark second in my group.
Turned around.
That's when it hit—the return trip. Stone didn't feel feather-light anymore. The path was sapping energy now. Subtle, but there. And the stone… it wasn't draining me, not at first. But the longer I walked, the heavier it got. Like it wanted more.
I gritted my teeth and pushed through it.
Ten meters left. Five.
I dropped the stone in its slot and collapsed to one knee. Let my lungs catch up with the rest of me.
I didn't need a score sheet to know I passed.
Barely.
But hey—passing's passing.
And just like that, the test moved on.
No one questioned how I pulled it off. No one asked why my stone felt like a feather at first and a boulder by the end.
They didn't need to know.
Let them think I got lucky.
Hell… maybe I did.
Eight more groups followed.
<-Kael>
It became easier for those lucky enough to pick up stones used by the top cadets—like Flynn, or me. Most didn't even realize it. They just looked relieved. Grateful. Maybe a little confused. But they never questioned why their test was a little softer than expected.
By the end of the day, the math was brutal.
Over 250 applicants had walked into this arena when the sun rose.
Only 65 remained.
I stood among them. Shoulders sore, body tired—but steady. My breathing was calm. My heart clear.
I glanced sideways.
Ryn leaned against the wall near me, chest rising and falling slowly. His face was pale, but there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
We both knew the same thing.
The test wasn't over.
But the line had been drawn.
We weren't just hopefuls anymore.
We were candidates.