Kael hadn't slept. The room they gave him was silent, carved from black stone, with no bed, no window, no clock. Just a glowing circle etched into the floor, pulsing faintly with the same symbol that burned beneath his skin — the glyph. A spiral inside a triangle. It throbbed every few seconds, syncing with the pendant on his chest.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes fixed on the symbol. The Academy didn't feel like a place. It felt like a test. The air was heavy. The silence was sharp. He didn't know how long he'd been in the room. Minutes? Hours? There was no way to tell.
Then the voice came.
"Riftborn Kael Veyron. Trial One begins now."
The floor lit up. The circle expanded, swallowing the room. Kael didn't fall — he was pulled. His body tensed as the light wrapped around him, dragging him downward. He braced himself, but there was no impact. Just a sudden stillness.
He stood in a chamber of mirrors.
There were no walls. Just reflections. Hundreds of them. Thousands. Each one showed Kael — but not the Kael he knew. Some were older. Some younger. Some wore armor. Some wore blood. One had violet eyes. Another stood over a burning city. A third held the pendant, cracked and leaking light.
Kael stepped forward. The mirrors didn't reflect his movement. They moved on their own, shifting like they were alive. The air was cold. The silence was complete.
A voice echoed through the chamber. It wasn't Nyra's. It wasn't the girl's. It was older.
"You are not one. You are many."
Kael's jaw tightened. "What is this?"
"This is who you could become."
One mirror rippled. Kael stepped closer. It showed him — older, stronger, eyes glowing with power. But his face was cold. His hands were stained. Behind him, the world was silent.
He reached out.
The mirror cracked.
A figure stepped through.
Kael stumbled back.
It was him.
But not him.
The figure stood tall, relaxed, confident. His eyes scanned Kael like he was measuring something. "You think you're the answer," he said, voice low and steady. "But you're just the echo they left behind."
Kael didn't respond. He shifted his stance, grounding himself. The pendant on his chest pulsed once, hard. The glyph beneath his skin burned faintly.
The figure stepped forward. "You're holding back. Still pretending you're something small. Something safe."
Kael clenched his fists. "I'm not you."
The figure smiled. "You already are."
Then he lunged.
Kael reacted instantly, twisting to the side as the strike sliced through the space where he'd stood. He stumbled, caught his balance, and turned to face the figure again. They circled each other. The figure moved like Kael — but faster, sharper, stripped of hesitation. Every motion was calculated, every step meant to dominate.
Kael blocked the next attack, but the impact sent a shockwave through the chamber. The floor rippled beneath him. He gritted his teeth and pushed back, forcing distance between them. His heart pounded. His breath came fast. The figure didn't seem winded. It was relentless.
Kael charged, striking low, aiming for the ribs. The figure blocked it easily, countered with a knee to Kael's side, and sent him sprawling. Kael hit the ground hard, gasping. The pendant flared against his chest. The glyph surged. He rolled to his feet, blood pounding in his ears.
He didn't close his eyes.
He didn't retreat.
He remembered.
Not visions. Not dreams. Just flashes — his mother's voice calling his name through smoke, the cloaked figure placing the pendant on his chest, the violet-eyed girl watching him with something like sorrow. He remembered the cave. The silence. The moment he was handed to the Rift.
He wasn't chosen because he was strong.
He was chosen because he survived.
Kael steadied his breath. The figure came again, fast and brutal. Kael met the strike head-on, their arms locked, their eyes inches apart. The figure snarled. Kael didn't flinch.
"I'm not the echo," Kael said, voice steady.
The glyph beneath his skin flared brighter than before. The chamber pulsed once, then again. The figure's grip faltered. Kael pushed forward, broke the lock, and stepped back.
The mirrors reformed around them, slowly. But this time, they showed only one Kael. No distortions. No shadows. Just him.
The figure stared at the mirrors, then at Kael. Its form began to unravel — not violently, but quietly. It dissolved into light and vanished.
Kael dropped to his knees. The pendant cooled. The glyph faded. The chamber folded inward, and he was back in the obsidian room.
Nyra stood at the door.
"You passed," she said.
Kael looked up, exhausted. "What was that?"
Nyra stepped inside, her voice calm. "The Rift doesn't test your strength. You're already strong in the divine realm. That part of you was never in question."
She walked closer, her eyes steady. "It tests your restraint — and your memory. The power is already inside you. The question is whether you'll use it to protect… or to dominate."
Kael sat in silence. "I saw him. A version of me."
"Not a version," Nyra said. "A possibility."
Kael frowned. "He was cruel."
"He didn't hesitate," Nyra said. "That's what makes him dangerous."
Kael waited for more.
Nyra leaned forward. "Hesitation means you're still human. You still weigh your choices. He doesn't. He sees a threat, he eliminates it. He sees a weakness, he cuts it out. No questions. No mercy. That version of you would burn the world just to stay in control."
Kael looked down at his hands. "Then I'll never become him."
Nyra's voice softened. "That's what this trial was for."
Before leaving, she gave him one final warning.
"The Rift doesn't care who you were," she said. "Only who you're becoming."
Kael stood. "I'm not ready."
Nyra smiled. "No one is."
She turned to leave.
Kael stood alone in the room, the silence pressing in again. But this time, it didn't feel empty. It felt like something was waiting.
He didn't sit.
He didn't rest.
He thought about the girl — the one with violet eyes. The one who said she knew him before the Collapse. Nyra called her a memory, but Kael wasn't sure that was true. She felt real. Too real.
He didn't remember her.
But something inside him did.
The pendant on his chest pulsed once — faint, like a whisper.
Kael looked toward the door.
He was ready for the next trial.