The morning sun cast long shadows across the trial grounds as candidates gathered for the second day. The atmosphere was different now—heavier, more intense. Yesterday had been about proving you belonged here. Today was about proving you deserved to stay.
Itsuki stood with his friends near the arena, watching as the Trial Masters made their final preparations. The Essence Monolith hummed with stored energy from yesterday's tests, and the fighting circle had been expanded to accommodate more complex combat demonstrations.
"Nervous?" Takumi asked, though his own hands were already flickering with small flames.
"Terrified," Itsuki admitted honestly. His ice-blue eyes tracked the movement of other candidates, noting the quiet confidence in some, the barely contained anxiety in others.
"At least you both have matches today," Shion said quietly. He'd been withdrawn all morning, ever since the match announcements had been posted at dawn. "I'm not fighting until this afternoon."
"The waiting is the worst part," Kairo agreed. His amber eyes were calm, but Itsuki noticed his friend's hand kept drifting to his cracked hourglass pendant—a nervous habit.
Master Amari stepped forward, his authoritative voice carrying across the grounds. "Today's combat trials will determine our final candidates for Zenkai Dojo. Fighters, remember—this is not about defeating your opponent. This is about demonstrating mastery, adaptability, and the warrior's spirit."
He consulted his notes. "First match: Itsuki Naoya versus Drayce Harkin!"
Itsuki's stomach dropped as he heard his name. Around the arena, murmurs began as people pointed toward his opponent.
Drayce Harkin was impossible to miss. The eighteen-year-old stood nearly a head taller than Itsuki, with broad shoulders and arms that looked like they could break stone. His dark hair was cropped short, and his brown eyes held the confident gleam of someone who had never lost a fight.
"Good luck," Takumi said, clapping Itsuki on the shoulder.
"You've got this," Kairo added with quiet certainty.
Shion just nodded, his teal eyes serious. "Remember what we practiced. Speed over strength."
Itsuki walked toward the arena, his heart hammering. As he took his position across from Drayce, he could hear the crowd's energy shifting. This wasn't going to be the technical display that Takumi and Inara had put on yesterday—this looked like it might be brutal.
"Fighters ready?" Sensei Laen called.
Both young men nodded.
"Begin!"
Drayce moved faster than Itsuki expected for someone his size. The larger boy charged forward, his fist already glowing with concentrated essence—the telltale sign of his Forcewell ability. When that punch landed, it would hit like a hammer blow even without making contact.
Itsuki barely dodged, feeling the pressure wave from Drayce's strike ruffle his white hair. He rolled left, came up running, trying to create distance and time to think.
But Drayce wasn't giving him space. Another essence-charged punch whistled through the air where Itsuki's head had been a split second before. The kinetic force cracked the stone beneath their feet.
"Come on, pretty boy!" Drayce taunted, his voice carrying across the arena. "Stand still and fight!"
Itsuki gritted his teeth, dodging another overwhelming strike. He needed to change the dynamic of this fight, but how? His ability was subtle, hard to use in direct combat. He couldn't match Drayce's raw power.
Then he remembered his father's words: Find your center.
As Drayce wound up for another devastating punch, Itsuki stopped running. Instead, he grabbed a handful of the loose sand scattered around the arena floor. The moment his fingers closed around the grains, he focused his will, his essence, on a single concept:
Heavy becomes light.
The sand in his hand seemed to shimmer for an instant. Then Itsuki threw it directly into Drayce's face.
What should have been a minor annoyance became something else entirely. The sand, now light as air, hung in the space between them like a glittering cloud, catching the morning sun and creating a brief, blinding screen.
Drayce stumbled, swinging blindly, and Itsuki finally had his opening.
He darted forward, low and fast, getting inside Drayce's reach for the first time. His fist connected with his opponent's solar plexus—not hard enough to cause real damage, but perfectly placed to knock the wind from Drayce's lungs.
As the larger boy doubled over, gasping, Itsuki spun behind him and grabbed the back of Drayce's training shirt. Again, his essence flowed, his will focused:
Heavy becomes light.
Suddenly, Drayce's own weight worked against him. Off-balance and now feeling strangely weightless, he toppled forward. Itsuki guided his fall, using the momentum to send his opponent face-first into the arena sand.
The crowd erupted.
"Match!" Master Amari called, and Itsuki could hear genuine surprise in the man's voice. "Victory to Itsuki Naoya!"
Itsuki helped Drayce to his feet, the larger boy shaking his head in confusion.
"What did you do to me?" Drayce asked, not angry but genuinely curious. "I felt like I was floating for a second there."
"I'm not entirely sure," Itsuki replied honestly. "My ability is... hard to explain."
Drayce grinned and extended his hand. "Whatever it was, it was clever. Good fight."
As they shook hands, the crowd's applause washed over them. Itsuki returned to his friends on unsteady legs, adrenaline making his hands shake.
"That was incredible!" Takumi shouted, grabbing Itsuki in a fierce hug. "I've never seen anything like that sand trick!"
"The way you used his own weight against him," Kairo added, impressed. "That was brilliant tactical thinking."
"I can't believe it worked," Itsuki admitted, still breathing hard.
Shion was staring at him with something that might have been envy. "Your ability is amazing, Itsuki. The way you can just... change things. I wish I could do something like that."
Before Itsuki could respond, Master Amari's voice cut through the celebration.
"Next match: Kairo Huisji versus Reima Syl!"
Now it was Kairo's turn. Itsuki watched his friend walk toward the arena with that same quiet confidence he always carried. Reima Syl was already waiting—a lean boy with wind-tousled hair and sharp green eyes that missed nothing.
Itsuki had seen Reima's ability yesterday during the demonstrations. The boy could manipulate wind currents into cutting blades sharp enough to slice through wood. Deadly at range, but limited by line of sight and his own essence reserves.
"This should be interesting," Takumi murmured. "Kairo's void-stepping against wind blades."
The match began differently than Itsuki's had. Both fighters circled each other cautiously, neither wanting to make the first mistake. Reima raised his hands, and immediately the air around him began to move, forming invisible currents that made the sand at his feet swirl in complex patterns.
Kairo simply watched, his amber eyes tracking every movement.
Reima struck first, slashing his hand through the air. A blade of compressed wind screamed toward Kairo—but where it passed, only empty space remained. Kairo had void-stepped, disappearing for a crucial second before reappearing three feet to the left.
"Clever," Reima acknowledged, already preparing another attack. "But you can't keep that up forever."
He was right. Itsuki knew Kairo could only manage short void-steps, and each one drained his essence. But his friend had always been the most strategic fighter among them.
Kairo didn't try to close distance. Instead, he began moving in a pattern—side to side, forward and back, occasionally disappearing and reappearing but never quite where Reima expected. Each void-step was calculated, designed not just to avoid attacks but to force Reima to adjust his aim, to waste energy on missed strikes.
"He's wearing him down," Shion observed quietly. "Making him work harder for each attack."
It was working. After five minutes of this deadly dance, Reima's wind blades were getting weaker, less precise. His breathing was labored from the constant essence expenditure. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he tried to track Kairo's increasingly erratic movement pattern.
Finally, Kairo made his move.
He void-stepped directly toward Reima—not to the side or back, but straight forward. Reima, expecting another evasion, had prepared a wide-area attack to cover multiple possible positions. When Kairo appeared right in front of him instead, the wind-user was caught completely off-guard.
Kairo's palm strike to Reima's chest was gentle by combat standards, but perfectly placed. The impact knocked Reima backward into the sand, and before he could recover, Kairo was already positioning for a follow-up.
"Yield!" Reima called out, raising his hand. "I yield!"
"Match!" Sensei Laen announced. "Victory to Kairo Huisji!"
The crowd's applause this time was different—appreciative rather than explosive. They had just watched a masterclass in tactical thinking and resource management.
Kairo helped Reima to his feet with the same calm professionalism he brought to everything.
"You forced me to overextend," Reima said, shaking his head ruefully. "I should have conserved my essence better."
"You're a skilled fighter," Kairo replied. "In a longer match, or on different terrain, it might have gone the other way."
As Kairo returned to the group, Itsuki felt a surge of pride for his friend. Two matches down, two victories. They were really doing this.
"Beautiful work," Takumi said, grinning. "That was like watching a chess master play."
"Patience and planning," Kairo agreed. "Though I nearly miscalculated at the end. If Reima had held back more of his essence, that final approach could have been a disaster."
More matches followed throughout the morning. They watched other candidates display impressive abilities and creative tactics. A girl who could manipulate sound waves used acoustic illusions to confuse her opponent before striking from an unexpected angle. A boy with plant-manipulation abilities similar to Inara's created a living maze that forced his enemy to fight on his terms.
But as the afternoon approached, Itsuki noticed Shion becoming more and more withdrawn. His friend sat slightly apart from the group, sketching in his notebook with sharp, agitated strokes.
"You okay?" Itsuki asked quietly, moving to sit beside Shion.
"Just thinking about my match," Shion replied without looking up from his drawings. "Nayen Krayth."
Itsuki winced. They'd all heard about Nayen during the morning announcements. Eighteen years old, known for her ruthless fighting style and fire-based abilities that could bind and restrict opponents. She'd apparently won several regional competitions before coming to the trials.
"She's tough," Itsuki admitted. "But you're tougher than you think. Your echoes might not be flashy, but they're incredibly versatile. You can show her attacks before she makes them, create false patterns to confuse her—"
"Can I?" Shion interrupted, his teal eyes finally meeting Itsuki's. "My echoes are weak, Itsuki. Small. Yesterday proved that. My essence reading was barely above the minimum threshold."
"Power isn't everything—"
"Yes, it is!" Shion's voice was sharper than Itsuki had ever heard it. "Look around! Everyone here has something impressive. You can alter reality itself. Kairo can step through the void. Takumi commands fire. What do I do? I make tiny pictures of things I've already seen."
Before Itsuki could respond, Master Amari's voice rang out across the arena.
"Next match: Shion Enther versus Nayen Krayth!"
The crowd's reaction was immediate—excited murmurs and pointing fingers. Apparently, Nayen had developed quite a reputation.
Shion closed his notebook with a sharp snap and stood up. "Here we go."
"Shion, wait—" Itsuki began.
But his friend was already walking toward the arena, his shoulders set with grim determination.
Nayen Krayth was waiting for him at the center of the fighting circle. She was tall and lean, with black hair tied in a high braid and piercing violet eyes that seemed to measure Shion like a predator sizing up prey. Her stance was relaxed but ready, the posture of someone completely confident in their abilities.
"The quiet one," she said as Shion took his position across from her. Her voice carried clearly across the arena. "I've been watching your friends' matches. Very impressive. I hope you can provide similar entertainment."
Shion said nothing, but Itsuki could see his friend's jaw clench. The crowd was settling into expectant silence, sensing that this match might be something special.
"Fighters ready?" Sensei Laen called.
Both nodded.
"Begin!"
Nayen moved first, her hands igniting with crimson flames that immediately began stretching outward like living chains. Her Anchorflame ability was as dangerous as advertised—those fire-tethers could bind, burn, and control the battlefield.
But Shion was ready.
His hands moved in complex patterns, and suddenly the air around him shimmered. Echoes began to appear—translucent images of Nayen's opening move, but shown from different angles, at different speeds. It was disorienting, like watching the same scene through a dozen different lenses at once.
Nayen faltered for just a moment, confused by the overlapping visual information.
In that moment of hesitation, Shion moved.
He wasn't the fastest or strongest of their group, but he'd always been the most observant. While everyone else had been watching Nayen's flames, he'd been studying her footwork, her balance, the way she distributed her weight before striking.
He darted left, then immediately right, using his echoes to create false images of his movement. The spectral afterimages made it look like he was attacking from three directions at once.
Nayen lashed out with her flame-chains, but they passed through empty air and illusions. Shion was already behind her, his palm striking toward the back of her knee—
A wall of fire erupted between them, forcing Shion to leap backward to avoid being scorched.
"Clever," Nayen acknowledged, spinning to face him. "But parlor tricks won't work twice."
She was right. Now that she understood his strategy, she began using her flames differently. Instead of trying to bind him with the chains, she created a web of fire around the arena, limiting his movement options. The heat was intense, and Shion was forced to stay in an increasingly smaller area.
"Come on, Shion," Takumi muttered from the sidelines. "You've got this."
But from where Itsuki sat, it looked bad. Shion's echoes were impressive, but Nayen's raw power was overwhelming. She could fill the entire arena with fire if she wanted to.
As if reading his thoughts, that's exactly what she did.
Flames erupted across the fighting circle, not targeting Shion directly but claiming territory. Within seconds, he was trapped in a small clear space at the center, surrounded by walls of crackling fire that grew higher and hotter by the moment.
"Yield," Nayen called out, her violet eyes gleaming with confidence. "There's nowhere left to run."
The crowd was on its feet, sensing the climax of the match. In the judges' area, Master Amari had his hand raised, ready to call the match if Shion didn't respond soon.
But instead of yielding, Shion did something unexpected.
He smiled.
"You're right," he called back to Nayen. "There's nowhere to run. Good thing I wasn't planning to."
His hands moved again, but this time the echoes that appeared weren't of the current fight. Instead, ghostly images began manifesting throughout the arena—echoes of every flame technique Nayen had used, but reversed, played backward.
The spectral flames moved in impossible ways, seeming to flow backward into nothing. It was a visual representation of fire being extinguished, of heat being drawn away, of energy dispersing into emptiness.
It shouldn't have affected real fire. Echoes were just illusions, everyone knew that.
But something strange was happening. The real flames around the arena began to flicker, as if influenced by the backward-flowing echoes. The temperature started to drop.
"What—" Nayen began, but her voice was cut off by gasps from the crowd.
The ring of fire she'd created was actually diminishing, the flames shrinking back as if being absorbed by Shion's reverse-echoes. It wasn't happening quickly, but it was undeniably real.
For the first time in the match, Nayen looked uncertain.
Shion stepped forward, his teal eyes blazing with intensity Itsuki had never seen before. "My echoes aren't just pictures," he said, his voice carrying across the suddenly quiet arena. "They're memories. And memories can be more powerful than reality."
The last of Nayen's flames sputtered out, leaving both fighters standing in the center of a circle of blackened sand. The crowd was silent, stunned by what they had just witnessed.
But Shion's moment of triumph was short-lived. The effort of creating those reality-affecting echoes had drained him completely. He swayed on his feet, blood trickling from his nose, and collapsed to one knee.
Nayen, recovering from her shock, immediately pressed her advantage. New flames sprang to life around her hands as she moved toward the weakened Shion.
"Match!" Master Amari called suddenly, his voice sharp with authority. "Victory to Nayen Krayth due to competitor incapacitation!"
The arena erupted in confused murmurs and scattered applause. Shion had lost, but what he'd done in those final moments had been unlike anything anyone had seen before.
Nayen helped Shion to his feet, her earlier arrogance replaced by genuine respect.
"I've never seen anything like that," she said quietly. "Your echoes actually affected my real flames. How is that possible?"
"I don't know," Shion replied honestly, wiping the blood from his nose. "I just... wanted them to stop so badly that I imagined what it would look like if they went away."
As the two fighters left the arena, the crowd was still buzzing with discussion. What they had witnessed challenged their understanding of how essence abilities worked.
Itsuki and the others rushed to meet Shion as he returned to their section.
"That was incredible!" Takumi exclaimed. "You made her flames disappear! Real flames!"
"But I still lost," Shion said quietly. "It doesn't matter how impressive it looked—I couldn't finish the fight."
"Shion," Kairo said seriously, "what you just did shouldn't be possible. Echoes are supposed to be harmless illusions. You affected reality itself."
"And nearly killed yourself doing it," Itsuki added with concern. "Are you okay?"
Shion nodded, though he still looked pale. "Just exhausted. Using that much essence at once..." He shook his head. "I can't do it again anytime soon."
Despite his loss, there was something different about Shion now. The defeat had stung, but the knowledge that he could do something truly extraordinary had changed the way he carried himself.
As the afternoon wore on and more matches concluded, the final results were announced. Twelve candidates had been selected for Zenkai Dojo, and Itsuki felt a mixture of joy and heartbreak as the names were called.
"Itsuki Naoya!"
"Kairo Huisji!"
"Takumi Leo!"
His three friends had made it. But when the list was complete, Shion Enther's name had not been called.
They gathered at the edge of the trial grounds as the crowds dispersed, the four friends finally alone together.
"I'm sorry," Itsuki said to Shion. "You deserved to make it. That echo technique you used—"
"Wasn't enough," Shion finished quietly. "It's okay, Itsuki. Really. I knew it was a long shot."
"This doesn't change anything between us," Takumi said fiercely. "We're still friends. We'll still train together when we're back from Zenkai."
"Of course," Kairo agreed. "Distance doesn't break bonds like ours."
Shion smiled, but there was something hollow in his teal eyes. "You guys need to go. The transport to Zenkai Dojo leaves at sunrise tomorrow. You should spend tonight with your families."
They hugged—all four of them together in a group embrace that felt like it might be the last one for a long time.
As they separated, Itsuki caught Shion's eye. "We'll see each other again soon. I promise."
"Yeah," Shion replied. "Soon."
But as they walked away in different directions, Itsuki couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had changed. The trials were over, but somehow it felt like they were just beginning.
Behind them, the Essence Monolith continued to pulse with its soft, steady light, keeping watch over the empty arena where dreams had been made and broken in equal measure.
And in the gathering shadows at the edge of the trial grounds, a figure in a grey cloak watched Shion Enther walk home alone, a thin smile playing across lips that no one could see.