Morning arrived without mercy.
The training grounds of Fairy Academy stretched endlessly beneath the open sky, floating platforms layered at dizzying heights, each separated by nothing but a void of pure aether. This was no classroom for comfort—it was a proving ground, designed to crush the weak and refine the resolute.
The Twelve Celestial Warriors assembled in formation, their cloaks rippling in the wind. The memory of yesterday's revelations pressed heavily on their chests. The galaxy was not abstract anymore; it demanded guardians. And today, they were to learn control.
Headmistress Celestina stood at the center of the lowest platform, her robes flowing, white and luminous against the dawn. Beside her, Headmaster Aldric loomed, silent but imposing. The air itself seemed heavier in his presence.
"Yesterday," Celestina began, voice soft but unyielding, "you learned what the galaxy is."
Aldric's voice followed, deep and unshakable. "Today, you learn what you are."
A tremor passed through the group.
"All twelve of you," Aldric continued, eyes sweeping over them, "are currently at the First Fairy Transformation."
A murmur rippled through the warriors.
"Aetherial Form," Celestina confirmed. "You have reached it naturally. But reaching a transformation and controlling it… are not the same."
Lyra felt a tightness coil around her ribs. She remembered her first surges—the chaotic fire, the Phoenix Flame threatening to rip through her. Her chest burned as if the memory itself had weight.
"This form," Aldric said, voice steady and precise, "is the foundation of aerial combat. Without mastery here, everything beyond will destroy you."
He raised his hand.
"Transform."
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then aether surged.
Lyra felt it first—heat rushing through her veins, every nerve igniting, the Phoenix Flame reacting instinctively. Her fists clenched as golden-crimson wings erupted behind her, jagged yet impossibly light. The platform beneath her shimmered but held firm.
Control. Breathe. Guide it.
Orion transformed beside her. Solar wings blazed outward, molten light coiling around him, powerful yet steady, commanding. He glanced at her, a single unspoken signal: "You are not alone."
Serena followed, her wings pure sunlight, folding on themselves like silk. Mia's aquatic wings shimmered, flowing and reshaping with every heartbeat. Emma crystallized ice wings that refracted light into infinite prisms.
Kai's electricity sparked violently at first before condensing into jagged arcs, precise and deadly. Rafael lifted gracefully, wind compressed into invisible wings, currents twisting perfectly around him. Nero's wings, massive and earthen, exuded stability, heavy with authority.
Sofia's wings burst with life—veins glowing, leaves rustling softly in the aether breeze. Kael's moonlight wings curved like silver crescents, serene and deliberate. Zane's shadows flowed, dark liquid stretching unnaturally where light bent. Seraphina's darkness cut sharply, disciplined, precise, every edge controlled.
Twelve warriors hovered above the platform. Twelve elements. One formation.
Lyra's chest tightened. Fear surged. She felt the Phoenix Flame trying to overtake her mind. Memories of death clawed at her: cold steel, endless void, Nyx Tenebris waiting beyond the shadows.
"Don't overpower it," Celestina's voice echoed softly. "Guide it."
Lyra clenched her teeth, forcing fire inward. She remembered Orion's presence, steadying. She imagined his warmth anchoring the inferno within her. Slowly, the wings settled, flames bending to her will.
Hours passed. The training was brutal.
Balance exercises at extreme altitude. Precision hovering under violent wind shears. Elemental suppression drills designed to punish the slightest misstep.
Every surge of Lyra's Phoenix Flame brought exhaustion, the heat draining her body. Sweat slicked her back, trembling fingertips threatening to break the flames loose. Each time she faltered, Orion's wing brushed hers, a steadying reminder of control, of trust.
Mistakes had immediate consequences. Kai's lightning snapped wildly, nearly striking a lower platform. Mia's wings destabilized midair, her water spiraling uncontrollably. Emma froze herself with ice, clawing to release herself.
No one complained. No one mocked. Only the hum of energy, the fierce rhythm of breath and wingbeats, the electric tension of controlled chaos.
By sunset, exhaustion weighed on them like stone. Aldric finally raised his hand.
"That is enough."
They landed shakily, wings dissolving into raw aether. Bodies trembled. Lyra's chest heaved; her Phoenix Flame was quiet but restless beneath her skin.
"You survived your first true lesson," Celestina said, eyes bright with quiet pride. "That alone places you ahead of most."
Her gaze sharpened, cutting through them like sunlight on ice.
"But tomorrow… you will learn unity."
The words reverberated in Lyra's mind. Fear curled within her chest. The galaxy was not waiting. It was watching.
That night, Lyra dreamed of flight.
And of falling.