There's a strange feeling when the elements speaks to you—earth, wind, fire, or water. Or whatever it is that decides to claim you.
Standing at the gates of the Circle, I didn't feel any of that. No whispers of the elements, no sign of what magic might call me. If anything would at all.
The air smelled of damp stone and cedar smoke curling off the torches, sharp in my lungs when I breathed too fast. I tugged at the sleeves of my robe, rubbing the soft fabric with clammy fingers, a nervous habit I couldn't shake. My palms were already damp.
"Do you think we'll both be chosen?" I asked quietly, glancing at her.
Her smile widened slightly, though her eyes stayed on the path ahead. "Of course we will," she said. The words fell easily, almost like gentle reassurance. As if she was saying it for herself as much as for me.
I nodded, but the knot in my chest didn't loosen. Rosalind always seemed so sure, so certain of her place in the world. She had always led, and I had followed. But today felt different. But this wasn't another game or trial. This was the beginning of everything we had dreamed of, the beginning of our magic. But what if I wasn't chosen… if nothing claimed me…?
"We've waited so long for this," I murmured. "But what if nothing claims us?"
Rosalind turned to me then, her smile softer but unwavering. "Don't think like that. Of course something will claim us." Her voice was warm, almost casual, as though it were that simple.
Her words should've soothed me, but the unease only worsened. Because I knew her too well. The tone, the look, the smile. Beneath it all was a fear she'd never let reach the surface. She wasn't just speaking to me; she was speaking to herself. Because if she ever let that fear through, even for a heartbeat, everything might fall apart.
Her smile reminded me of a time long ago. We were much younger, sitting in the corner of her family's home. Her mother's hand left a red mark across her cheek. Not for any real reason, nothing that truly mattered. Something small had set her off, just some small mistake.
Rosalind's small shoulders trembling with each sob. Her sobs had shaken the room, raw and helpless. And her mother just stood there, tense, as though the sound itself was unbearable. It wasn't anger anymore. It was something closer to discomfort, as if the crying scraped at a place inside her she refused to touch. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it asked for a softness she didn't have.
"Stop crying," her mother had said, the words heavy with frustration. "Smile."
And Rosalind had. Not because she wanted to, but because that's what her mother needed. That day, a smile became her shield the way other children clutched a blanket. Something to hide behind, something to survive with. Now, years later, she still wore it. No one else knew what it cost her. But I did.
The elder's voice rolled through the Circle, name after name. One by one, Nobles, merchants, common-born. It didn't matter. Every apprentice stepped forward in turn, each of us waiting to see if the elements would answer. When they did, the lines beneath their feet lit with earth, wind, fire, or water. Claimed by the elements as if by old gods.
But not everyone was chosen.
A girl stepped forward, hope shining in her eyes. She waited.
A breath passed. Then another.
The silence thickened until even the sound of breathing seemed too loud, long enough that it became unbearable. The air grew restless. Someone shifted, another cleared their throat, whispers began, low and needling, snaking through the crowd in every direction.
Still, the lines beneath her feet remained dark. She lowered her head at last, shoulders curling inward as if the Circle itself had rejected her. The whispers swelled, a tangle of pity from some, disdain from others, amusement from those who knew they would never be measured against her. It was hierarchy at work, cruel and absolute, reminding us all exactly where we stood. It followed her as she walked back into the crowd.
Another apprentice stepped forward, stiff with dread. Again, nothing. The hush broke into ripples of sound this time, the audience unable to help themselves, their murmurs curling at the edges of the Circle like smoke.
The failures spread through us like a sickness, heavy and contagious.
My chest tightened, my breaths shallow and uneven. What if I wasn't chosen? What if I stood there like them, swallowed by silence while everyone watched? My pulse thundered, frantic, almost painful. What if the elements didn't answer me at all? What if I was left behind, while everyone else moved forward, while Rosalind moved forward without me?
"Flora Velan," the elder called.
I jolted. My stomach dropped.Tthe sound of my name cutting through the whirlwind of what ifs. For a heartbeat, I couldn't move. I glanced at Rosalind, searching for her comfort. She gave me that soft, encouraging smile. The kind that said everything would work out. I wanted to believe it. Even if it was a lie, I wanted to borrow her certainty, just for a moment.
My knees weak and trembling, my feet moved, carrying me into the Circle whether I was ready or not.
The space felt enormous, as I moved into its center, the weight of eyes pressing against my back. My chest was tight, each breath came shallow and quick. The glowing lines beneath me waiting for the magic to find me. I closed my eyes, trying to ground myself.
The silence stretched around me, long and suffocating. I could hear the sound of someone's breathing.
Until—
Something tingled at my fingertips.
A gentle pull, deep and warm, rising from the ground beneath my feet. Warmth spread upward through my legs, firm but gentle, like roots pushing into soil. The earth found me. The lines glowed green, twisting like vines, wrapping me in an embrace. It wasn't wild or overwhelming. It was grounding, patient, as if whispering: You belong.
The earth's power settled beneath my feet, constant as a heartbeat. For a moment, everything else fell away. The whispers, the fear, even Rosalind. All that existed was the wonder of the earth claiming me. Like a secret only I could hear.
A smile broke across my face. The earth had chosen me. And it felt right.
When I stepped back, the warmth still clung to my skin, like I was carrying a piece of it with me. My eyes found Rosalind. She hadn't moved, every inch of her composed, her smile the same one she'd worn a thousand times before. But her eyes... her eyes were different. Was it fear? Doubt? I couldn't tell. Only it hadn't been there before.
The question slipped out before I could stop it. "Are you okay?"
Rosalind turned to me with that same familiar smile, brighter now, edged with a touch of excitement. Almost convincing. Almost. "I'm just relieved you were chosen," she said, but the enthusiasm was too much. An overplayed note, covering something she didn't want me to hear.
I knew it because I'd seen it in her eyes a moment ago, the hint of something she'd never admit, not to me, not to anyone. I opened my mouth to press, but the elder's voice cut through the air.
"Rosalind Simula."
Rosalind stepped forward, her head high, her movements deliberate. She entered the Circle like she had been preparing for it her entire life. But as she stood there, the lines beneath her feet remained still.
The tension thickened around us. Then came the whispers.
"Guess she's like the rest of the commoners," someone muttered.
"No talent after all," another snickered, the sound sharp as a blade in the silence.
My breath caught. She can't fail. Not Rosalind.
But nothing happened.
Her jaw tightened for the briefest second, but she held firm, her expression neutral. The silence stretched longer than it should have, every second feeding the unease spreading through the apprentices. The elder was considering stepping in. Then—
A weak glow.
It was faint at first. A spark of red and orange below her, fire struggled to rise, fighting against the stillness. Rosalind's hands curled into fists at her sides, but she didn't move. She stood frozen, waiting.
Then, all at once, the flames erupted.
Fire tore upward, wild and merciless, spiraling around her in a storm of heat and light. It wasn't just fire. It was something fiercer, more dangerous. The flames weren't claiming her. They were challenging her.
Gasps broke from the Circle, sharp and disbelieving. The same voices that had mocked her fell into silence.
The fire wrapped around Rosalind, crackling with a life of its own, as though it had been waiting for her all along.
The elders leaned forward, their eyes bright with interest.
The heat licked at my skin, but it wasn't simple warmth. It was chaotic, wild, alive. I could almost feel the fire's hunger, as though it wanted more than Rosalind, it wanted everything.
Rosalind held her ground, her figure haloed in fire. But I saw it, the slightest tremor in her fingers, the tension coiled beneath her calm. She wasn't simply standing there. She was holding herself together.
When the flames finally retreated, leaving only the smell of smoke behind, Rosalind's breath hitched, barely noticeable, just enough to betray the strain. And then, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. She composed herself, as though nothing had changed. As though it had only ever been a relief.
For a moment, no one moved. The silence was thick, stunned.
Then a single pair of hands began to clap. Another joined. And another. Until the Circle echoed with applause. Loud, cheering, scattered with whistles, restless in the way people became when they realized a rare talent had stepped among them. Some clapped in awe, others in fear, all of them desperate to drown out what they had whispered before.
Rosalind stood at the center, haloed in smoke, her gaze sweeping the crowd as though she weren't certain any of it was real. For a heartbeat she looked almost dazed, as if she had stumbled into her own dream. Then, with graceful composure, she bowed, the firelight still lingering on her skin. When she straightened, her smile returned, radiant, confident, proud. As though the Circle had never dared doubted her at all.
I rushed toward her, the relief pouring out of me. "We were both chosen!" I said, unable to keep the excitement from my voice.
She met my eyes, the brilliance fading into something softer. She nodded, but the weight in her gaze told me more than her lips ever could. When I embraced her, I felt it. The tautness in her body, like she was holding something inside, something she couldn't let slip.
An elder's voice rose above the last of the clapping. "Chosen apprentices, the dormitories await. You'll find your room numbers posted at the entrance. Follow the stewards. Your training begins tomorrow."
The moment slipped away like smoke through fingers. Rosalind and I fell into step with the others, the crowd funneling toward the tall stone halls beyond the Circle.
As we followed the others toward the dormitories, the weight of everything pressed down on us. The future, the power, the uncertainty. It all hung between us, unspoken. The fire that had claimed Rosalind still lingered in the air, like a warning. I didn't know what came next for us. What the elements expected from us. All I knew was that we had crossed a line, and there was no going back.
Being chosen meant everything would change. Training, responsibility, expectations. The Circle had marked us, and now, the world would watch to see what we would do next.
Rosalind walked beside me, her steps careful, her hands twitching at her sides. She was trying to contain something. I didn't know what, but I could feel the shift in her. Something had changed, and I didn't know what it meant.
The elements had chosen us, but I knew it wasn't finished with us. The world would demand more than we could give, and it would not be merciful.