When the afternoon class bell rang, the black basalt stones of the Obsidian Arena were illuminated not by the morning sun, but by a suffocating heat radiating from the center of the arena.
The vassals descending into the arena for "Basic Defense Class" began to sweat the closer they got to the center. Standing in the middle was Professor Vespera, a cunning vassal of the Third Pillar (Fire), clad in red leather armor. Her ash-colored hair was tied tightly at the nape of her neck, and a shrewd, intelligent gleam shone in her amber eyes.
When Vespera snapped her leather-gloved fingers, small whirlwinds of flame birthed and died in the air.
"Defense," Vespera said, her voice resonant like the cracking of an ember but possessing a silky softness. "Is not about foolishly holding up a shield. It is about reading your opponent's breath as well as their moves." Her amber eyes slid directly to the back of the crowd, locking onto Vane. A thin, venom-filled smile appeared on her lips. "You surprised us yesterday, Vane. A kinetic mirror, was it? I wonder... if you'd allow it, I would like to test this rare ability myself. Fire is not like a crude axe, sweetie. It loves to seep through the cracks."
The students quickly backed away from Vane, creating a massive empty circle. Vane didn't swallow hard; he simply analyzed the situation. Kael had always told him, "If the enemy is stronger than you, give them the target they should strike, so you retain control." He walked toward the center with calm, measured steps. There was neither fear nor arrogance in him.
He raised his rusted dagger to eye level. Adjusting his stance by a millimeter to protect his vital organs, he deliberately left his left shoulder slightly exposed.
Vespera smiled and swung her arm. The aether fire shooting from her hand turned into a long whip of flame that tore through the air with a whistle. The heat was close enough to singe Vane's eyelashes.
In that exact second, the ice-cold, velvety voice echoed in his mind.
"Open it, Vane," Lysandra said. "Feel the hunger inside you. Crack the void in that dagger's stomach by a thousandth of a millimeter. Don't fear, I have control."
Vane's mind paused for a fraction of a second. How am I supposed to do that? he thought amidst the terror.
"Focus! Let it take just a sip, and then lock the door on it! Or this fire will turn you to ash!" Lysandra roared.
The moment the flame whip struck the rusted metal, Vane forced the insatiable darkness inside him to crack open just a sliver, following Lysandra's command. A microscopic speck of that massive inferno quietly slipped into the rusted stomach of the dagger. As Vane felt the burning satiation of that foreign energy touching the void inside him, he slammed the door shut with sheer willpower.
The remaining massive whip of flame bypassed the dagger and cracked against his intentionally exposed left shoulder.
Vane's muffled groan echoed across the arena. The impact threw him back, sending him crashing onto the black basalt stones. As the smell of seared flesh spread through the air, Vane tried to push himself up on his knees, gritting his teeth so hard he thought they might shatter. He didn't scream; for a soul that had watched his mother die, this physical pain was merely a stimulus.
"Ah, what a pity..." Vespera said, her tone taking on a mocking pity. "So your mirror is just a dry piece of wood against fire. You may step aside."
Looking down at the ground, Vane felt that hot, foreign spark pulsing deep within his stomach. I suffered, but I stole the first spark directly from your hands, he thought. He silently stood back up on his own two feet.
Walking alone through the dim corridors of the Academy toward the infirmary after class, his left shoulder burned like hell. Yet, his posture remained as straight as ever. As he turned the corner, the shadows parted and the silver-haired girl appeared. Lyra.
"Our Prince..." Lyra said in that melodic voice. "Did you find the answers you were looking for on the Censored Floor?"
Vane studied the girl with tired but calculating eyes. "I found what I was looking for," he said in an honest, flat tone. "I am grateful for your help in the infirmary, but right now, you need to step aside."
Lyra stepped closer with a mysterious smile. "I only showed you the paths, Vane. But my goggles don't read lies; they read the flow of aether. I saw it myself today in the arena—how you stole that fire, sipping it like a thief."
Vane's mind eliminated thousands of scenarios in seconds. He didn't panic, nor did he get aggressive. He just needed to manage the situation.
Right at that moment, the voices of upperclassmen echoed from the end of the corridor. Using the hunter reflexes he learned from Kael, Vane grabbed Lyra's arm—gently but firmly—and pulled her into the deep shadow behind a large stone pillar.
He covered her mouth with his right hand, shielding her with his body as they sank into the darkness. As the distance between them dropped to zero, that familiar chamomile scent filled his nose, clouding his cold, calculated mind for a fraction of a second. The students walked right past them, laughing and chatting. Feeling Lyra's steady breath against his palm, Vane looked into her eyes; there was no fear in them, only a curious attention.
When the voices faded, he pulled his hand away.
"You are right in what you saw, Corvus," Vane said, his voice low but crushing like a mountain. "I took the fire. But you didn't tell Vespera. You waited for me here, alone."
Vane took a step back. "You don't want to turn me in. You enjoy watching an 'anomaly' within this system. But know this; the prices I pay to survive cannot be an entertaining curiosity for you."
A momentary flash of respect appeared in Lyra's eyes.
"Keep what you saw to yourself, and I will harbor no enmity toward you," Vane stated, and without waiting for the girl's reply, he continued walking toward the infirmary.
Deep within his mind, Lysandra chuckled. "An excellent lesson, Vane. You are now the owner of both a stolen fire and a confused potential ally."