Silvermist fidgeted as she scanned the long line of apprentices, her nerves twisting into knots. The competition grounds were divided into multiple stages, each one buzzing with elemental displays.
From where she stood, she could see apprentices from different sections showcasing their skills—water benders twisting liquid into intricate shapes mid-air, fire users sparring with flaming whips, and wind manipulators summoning gusts strong enough to knock their opponents off balance. Some even displayed personal techniques unique to their training, earning awed murmurs from the spectators.
Adeline and Mila had been assigned to different sections. Adeline was paired against an Azurite apprentice, while Mila faced off against a Beryl apprentice. Their designated stages were far from Silvermist's, meaning she was completely alone in her section—alone and about to face someone she had no hope of defeating.
Her stomach churned as she craned her neck, watching one of the matches unfold. An apprentice from the Red Sand section launched a wave of heat so intense that the air shimmered like glass. His opponent, a student from the Carnelian sect, countered with a burst of water, creating a thick steam cloud that engulfed the entire stage. The crowd erupted in cheers at the sheer force of their attacks.
"And they were saying this competition won't be physical. How am I supposed to compete with that?!" Silvermist thought bitterly.
"Calm down," a voice whispered from behind her.
Startled, she spun around to find herself face-to-face with a stranger. He was tall—almost Sebastian's height—with tousled, dull-golden hair and striking green eyes.
"Sphene apprentices aren't all that great," he mused, hands tucked casually into his pockets.
Silvermist scoffed. "Yeah? Try saying that again when you're up against Amethyst."
The man's friendly smile faltered. "Oh. How unfortunate for you," he muttered, scratching the back of his head. "But hey, don't stress too much about it. This is just a section competition. Even if you lose individual points, everything gets tallied in the end."
Silvermist narrowed her eyes. "You say that like you've already decided I'm losing."
"Not at all!" The man chuckled. "Just trying to keep your spirits up. Anyway, I'm Kenji Duskridge, Cay's apprentice—one of the three masterless apprentices, if you've heard. Red Sand's apprentice just filled me in earlier, barely." He extended a hand. "And you?"
Silvermist hesitated before shaking his hand. "Silvermist Evermore, one of the two remaining masterless apprentices—"
"Evermore!"
She flinched at the sharp voice cutting through the air. Turning swiftly, she found herself face to face with Professor Oliver O'Sullivan, the stern-faced instructor of Section Azurite.
"Yes, sir?"
"It's your turn."
Silvermist froze, her gaze flickering from Professor Oliver to the stage, where Amethyst was already waiting with a boy who looked… suspiciously like a conductor. Well, if conductors were fifteen-year-olds with a penchant for dramatic robes.
He wore a plain white robe, the hood pulled up just enough to reveal long, jet-black hair cascading down his shoulders. His face was unreadable—except for the slight twitch in his eye, which made him look like he had just witnessed a murder and was too polite to mention it.
Silvermist squinted at him. Was he supposed to be some sort of referee? Or an executioner? Because judging by his expression, he was definitely expecting to see someone die today.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded stiffly and walked past Professor Oliver, descending the three steps onto the stage.
"Pass," the conductor said, extending a hand.
Silvermist blinked. "Pass?"
The boy sighed through his nose and pointed at a crimson paper tucked in her sash.
Oh. That pass.
Scrambling, Silvermist yanked the paper out and slapped it into his palm with the urgency of someone handing over a cursed object.
The conductor gave her a blank stare. Then, without a word, he turned to Amethyst, who—of course—had already been holding her pass like she'd personally handcrafted it out of dragon silk.
Silvermist exhaled. Great. I'm already losing in paperwork.
Once the conductor collected their passes, he barely spared them a glance before gesturing toward the center of the stage. The spotlight flared to life, casting long, eerie shadows as he stepped between them.
"We only have one rule here," the boy announced, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and warning.
His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned in slightly.
"Don't get killed."
"What?"
Silvermist stiffened. Her stomach twisted, and a cold dread slithered down her spine like ice water.
"B-But I thought this was just an ability showcase?" she blurted, cursing under her breath as her mind raced. "You must have seen my records—I can barely lift a dew! This matchup is already messed up, and now… now I have to deal with that rule?"
Amethyst chuckled, a sound like delicate glass cracking, sharp and beautiful. She tilted her head, her violet eyes gleaming under the arena lights.
"Aww, don't worry, Sil. I'll go easy on you." Her smile was as sweet as poisoned honey. "Something like… you won't die, but you'll still be able to crawl back to your bed."
Silvermist gawked at her, then turned toward the conductor, waving her arms in frantic exasperation.
"See? See?! This is exactly what I'm talking about! Can't I just surrender? My co-section didn't even have any expectations for me anyway!"
Silence fell over the arena. A murmur rippled through the gathered apprentices, their eyes flitting between Silvermist and Amethyst. Some whispered, while others openly snickered. The tension was thick enough to suffocate.
"Surrender?" the boy repeated, his tone neither amused nor sympathetic. He regarded Silvermist with the same detachment as someone observing an insect pinned beneath glass. "I'm afraid that's not possible."
Silvermist's stomach dropped.
"Didn't you hear what the Spring Guardian said earlier?" the boy continued. "You either win or lose. Surrendering is not an option. Otherwise… you will be punished."
Her breath hitched. "What kind of punishment?" she asked, barely above a whisper, clinging to a sliver of desperate hope.
The boy smiled—cold, unreadable. "Only the Lunar King knows."
A chill ran through her.
Silvermist pressed her lips together, fingers clenching at her sides. She had already done too much, already risked enough. If she was punished again, it wouldn't just be her—Frost might suffer for it too. The weight of that realization settled on her chest like an anvil.
Across from her, Amethyst was watching. Waiting.
Violet eyes gleamed with something unreadable—was it excitement? Pity? No. It was expectation. Amethyst had already decided how this would end.
Silvermist's lips trembled. She swallowed hard and lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet Amethyst's gaze.
"A-Alright then," she whispered, voice barely steady.
"Very well…" the boy said, his voice echoing through the arena before he took a slow step backward.
Then another.
And another.
Until he melted into the darkness beyond the spotlight, leaving Silvermist standing alone.
Alone with her.
Amethyst.
A predator with a grin, her violet eyes glinting with amusement as she took a languid step forward.
"Silvermist Evermore," she purred, rolling the name over her tongue like it was honey.
Silvermist's muscles tensed. Her name in Amethyst's mouth felt wrong—too sweet, too knowing, like a cat toying with a mouse before the inevitable strike.
"I heard you couldn't do anything." Amethyst tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "Yet…"
Silvermist's brows twitched.
That tone. That look.
She knew.
Someone must have told her. Or… did she figure it out on her own?
Amethyst moved, her steps slow, deliberate. Each click of her boots against the floor sent a chill crawling up Silvermist's spine. When she stopped, only a meter remained between them.
And then—she leaned in.
Towering over her.
Looming.
A silent, mocking promise of dominance.
"You're Frost's apprentice, aren't you?" Amethyst grinned.
Silvermist's breath hitched.
"N-No, I still do not have any m-master," she blurted out, but her voice wavered—thin, unconvincing.
Amethyst's smirk widened.
"Oh, dear," she said, her tone dripping with amusement. "I've already found the Red Sand Guardian's apprentice."
Silvermist swallowed.
"Now…" Amethyst continued, tapping her chin in faux thought, "that leaves only two apprentices unaccounted for—Lightning and Winter's."
She leaned back, just a fraction, but her eyes gleamed with quiet triumph.
"The other apprentice? She can wield electricity, something that only the Lightning Guardian apprentice can do… which leaves you."
Silvermist's pulse pounded in her ears. She's trapped, she couldn't speak leaving a wider grin on Amethyst's lips.
Amethyst's laughter rang through the arena—high-pitched and brittle, like it could shatter glass.
"So it's you! Hahaha! It's really you!" She threw her head back, her amusement almost theatrical before she dramatically slapped her forehead. "I can't believe someone as mighty as the Winter Guardian ended up with an apprentice as weak as you."
Silvermist clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She had no words to defend herself. Because—because Amethyst was right.
She had nothing.
No real strength, no proper training—nothing that should have made her worthy of Frost's apprenticeship.
Amethyst's laughter died as suddenly as it had begun. Her grin vanished, replaced by a sharp, unreadable gaze.
"You know," she began, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, "I've known about the Guardians since I was a child. I grew up knowing I was destined to be an apprentice one day."
She tilted her head slightly, her violet eyes burning with something unreadable.
"My great-grandfather was one. He was the apprentice of the Archmage in his time."
Silvermist remained silent.
Amethyst continued. "He always told me that I would be Winter's apprentice. That it was my fate." Her fingers twitched as she spoke, her voice becoming sharper, edged with something bitter.
"But then, when the time finally came… when I stood before the Guardians, expecting to take my rightful place… I came face to face with Zephyr."
Her lips curled—not in amusement, but disbelief.
"Zephyr. The Wind Guardian."
She let out a hollow chuckle. "I wasn't even chosen as one of the Four Seasons apprentices."
The weight of those words lingered in the air, thick and suffocating.
Then—her voice cracked with rage. "I trained for years! I poured everything into becoming strong enough for that moment! To be worthy of Frost's apprenticeship! But then…"
She lifted her hand and pointed directly at Silvermist.
"You got the position?! With nothing?"
The air around them shifted.
A sudden gust of wind howled through the arena, slamming into Silvermist's body with an invisible force. Her feet wobbled against the stage, her balance faltering as the currents grew stronger—twisting, circling, howling.
Her hair whipped against her face, her clothes billowed violently, and a sharp sting lashed at her skin as if the wind itself carried razors.
The air was growing heavier, pressing against her lungs, making it hard to breathe.
Amethyst's fury was no longer just in her words—it was in the air itself.
The wind screeched as it coiled around Silvermist's legs, dragging her upward.
"A-Amethyst—" Silvermist gasped, but the moment she opened her mouth, the air knocked the breath from her lungs.
Then—she was lifted off the ground.
Her heart lurched as she was yanked into the air, helpless against the force pulling her higher. The world below became a blur—apprentices watching, the stage shrinking beneath her.
Then a violent whirl of wind slammed into her.
And Amethyst threw her.
Silvermist's body whipped through the air, weightless and vulnerable as she was hurled toward the center of the octagonal stage.
Her mind barely had time to register the fall—
Before she crashed onto the hard stone, pain exploding through her entire body.