Jorel, Jain, and Ryen stumbled out of the final chamber of the maze, their bodies bruised and battered but their spirits high. The adrenaline from the battle still coursed through their veins as they emerged into the open air, the oppressive atmosphere of the maze finally lifting. They were not alone; the other Raven and Falcon groups who had joined forces with them in the last fight also staggered out, all of them bearing the marks of their trials but wearing expressions of grim satisfaction.
Waiting for them was Serina, the leader of Raven House, who stood alongside several judges from the faculty. The judges were stern and unreadable, their expressions giving nothing away as they watched the students approach. But Serina allowed herself a brief smile as she saw her housemates emerge victorious.
"You've done well," she said, her voice calm but tinged with approval. "You've shown strength, strategy, and unity—qualities that will serve you well in the challenges to come."
One of the judges, a tall man with silver hair and piercing blue eyes, stepped forward. His voice was sharp and authoritative. "Congratulations to all of you for completing the Maze of Suffering. This was no small feat, and your performance has not gone unnoticed."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the assembled students. "For their strategy and quick thinking in outsmarting the other houses, Raven House is awarded 10 points." A murmur of approval spread through the upper level Raven students perched above, and the weight of their victory began to sink in for the trio.
The judge continued, "And for their willingness to set aside house rivalries and work alongside Raven House, Falcon House is awarded 5 points." The Falcon students exchanged looks of surprise and gratitude, clearly not expecting the recognition but appreciating it nonetheless.
Serina nodded at the judge's words, her pride evident. "You've all earned your rest. Go back to your dorms and recover. Tomorrow, your more training begins."
The group of students, exhausted but satisfied, made their way back to Raven House. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the campus, but the cool air felt refreshing after the stifling confines of the maze.
As they reached the dormitory, Jorel, Jain, and Ryen shared a look of mutual respect. They had faced their first major trial together and come out stronger for it. They entered the common room, the flickering fire casting a warm glow over the stone walls.
"That was… intense," Ryen said, dropping heavily into one of the chairs. "I don't think I've ever been pushed that hard before."
Jain nodded, sinking into a seat beside him. "We made it through, though. And we worked together when it counted."
Jorel remained standing, his mind still buzzing from the day's events. "We did well, but this is just the beginning. If the maze was just the first trial, who knows what's coming next?"
The trio sat in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. The journey ahead was uncertain, but they had proven to themselves that they could handle whatever came their way—so long as they stuck together.
After a while, they each retired to their rooms, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with them. As Jorel lay down, the events of the maze replayed in his mind. The fights, the strategy, the moments of fear and triumph—it all felt surreal. But there was also a sense of satisfaction, of having accomplished something truly difficult.
Sleep came quickly, the weariness of his body overwhelming his restless thoughts. For the first time since arriving at E&R, Jorel slept soundly, his mind and body finally at ease.
---
The next morning, Jorel, Jain, and Ryen woke early, their bodies still sore from the previous day's trials. As they made their way to the dining hall, they noticed a subdued atmosphere among the students. There were fewer faces than there had been the day before, and a sense of unease hung in the air.
"It looks like not everyone made it through the maze," Jain said quietly, her eyes scanning the room.
Ryen nodded, his expression somber. "It's not surprising, considering how brutal it was. But still… it's strange to see so many empty seats."
Jorel didn't say anything, but he felt the weight of their words. The reality of E&R was sinking in—the school was designed to test them to their limits, and not everyone would survive the journey. As they ate their breakfast, the trio prepared themselves for whatever the day would bring.
After breakfast, they made their way to their first official class on general pain magic- the specific pain user lessons would only come once they had bested enough trials.
The classroom was large and dimly lit, with rows of wooden desks arranged in a semicircle around a central platform. The remaining students filed in, their faces a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.
The instructor, a stern-looking man with a perpetual scowl, stood at the front of the room. Jorel immediately recognized him—Gragan Deteni, one of the professors who had been particularly harsh during the entrance exam. There was something about Deteni that unsettled Jorel, a coldness in his eyes that hinted at cruelty.
Deteni's gaze swept over the students, his expression one of barely concealed disdain. "Welcome to your first real lesson in pain magic," he began, his voice sharp and unyielding. "Many of you think you've already proven yourselves by surviving the maze. But let me make one thing clear—what you faced yesterday was nothing compared to what lies ahead. Those of you who were using your measly forms of pain magic were pathetic excuses for the craft."
The room fell silent, the tension palpable as Deteni continued. "Pain magic is not just about enduring pain. It's about control. It's about taking the raw, chaotic energy of suffering and shaping it into something useful- not just barbaric. Today, we begin with something simple—an introductory spell that even the weakest among you should be able to perform- regardless what type of user you are."
He held up a small, worn book, its pages yellowed with age. "This is a collection of well-known poems, each designed to evoke a specific emotion. You will use these words to create a basic spell, channeling the emotional pain they generate into a tangible form."
Deteni began handing out copies of the poem to each student. As Jorel took his, he felt a sense of foreboding.
As he passed them out he continued, "This should allow you to tap into your emotions and produce some form of water- those of you suited for emotional pain might be able to cause a small puddle to form, while those are are not should simply be able to stir up some chill wind or a single droplet."
Jorel looked down- the poem was simple, a few lines of verse meant to stir a feeling of melancholy:
Beneath the weight of the setting sun,
My heart weeps for what is lost,
A world of shadows and memories gone,
In the dusk, I am left alone.
The task seemed straightforward enough—channel the sadness from the poem into a small spell, something as simple as forming a drop of water or creating a soft breeze. But as Jorel stared at the words, he felt nothing. The poem, meant to evoke sorrow, stirred no emotion in him.
Around him, the other students began to focus, their expressions tightening as they channeled their emotions into the spell. Small drops of water began to form on the desks of those who were successful, while others managed to create gentle breezes that rustled the pages of their books and some yet where able to create tiny snowflakes.
But Jorel remained still, his mind blank. The emotional numbness that had protected him in the past was now a barrier he couldn't overcome. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't summon the sadness needed to perform the spell.
He looked to Ryen to share in his frustration only to see him gleefully starting at a small pile of snow. Even Jain, who sat besides him was able to create a small droplet of water in the center of her poem.
Deteni noticed his lack of progress, his scowl deepening as he approached Jorel's desk. "What's the matter, Drecan?" he sneered. "Can't even manage a simple spell? Maybe you're not cut out for this after all."
Jorel's heart sank at Deteni's words, the weight of his emotional numbness pressing down on him like never before. He had always known it would be a challenge to be inept emotional pain magic, but facing this failure so early in his training was a harsh blow.
Deteni leaned in closer, his voice a harsh whisper. "You're wasting your time here, Drecan. If you can't even perform this basic spell, you might as well leave now before you embarrass yourself further."
Jorel clenched his fists, anger and frustration boiling inside him. But there was nothing he could do—his numbness was an insurmountable obstacle, one that no amount of effort could overcome.
As the lesson continued, Jorel sat in silence, his mind racing as he tried to think of a way to prove himself. He knew he couldn't let this defeat define him, but the path forward was unclear. All he knew was that he had to find a way to overcome this weakness—before it was too late.