Chapter 9: Trial by Fire
The chilly early morning air bit at Alex's skin as he stepped outside the hostel. Royce had been true to his word—he and Becca stood waiting at the crack of dawn, ready to start the training.
The sun barely peeked over the horizon, casting long shadows across the courtyard. Though it wasn't warm yet, the golden light provided a soothing glow. Alex took a deep breath, savoring the peaceful stillness.
For a brief moment, Alex stood alone, relishing the silence. It wasn't the institute, he reminded himself. Here, he had more control. He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the tension that had crept into his muscles overnight. It was a new day, and the training was about to begin.
"So you made it," Royce called out from the side, leaning against one of the stone pillars. He grinned lazily, his posture as relaxed as ever. "I half expected you to skip. I mean, that bed's pretty comfy, right?"
Alex huffed, suppressing a smile. "You underestimate me."
"Maybe I do. Maybe I don't." Royce pushed himself off the pillar, stretching dramatically. "But hey, at least you're here. Evie's still dragging herself out of bed."
As if on cue, Evie stumbled out of the hostel, her hair tied in a disheveled ponytail, her eyes half-closed. "Mornings are evil," she groaned, her voice thick with sleep. "Why do we have to do this so early?"
"Because," Royce replied, smirking, "the Crucible won't wait for you to get your beauty sleep. You want to pass? You gotta be ready for anything."
Evie shot him a glare that could've melted steel. "I hate you."
"Feelings mutual." Royce winked at her before turning to Alex. "Alright, time for the real fun to begin. Becca's handling the serious stuff later, but I'm here to warm you up."
The training ground wasn't far from the hostel, tucked behind a thicket of trees. It was a simple area—nothing more than a clearing with wooden dummies, target boards, and a weathered obstacle course.
The air here felt heavier, charged with energy from countless training sessions. Alex could feel it—like a hum beneath his skin.
"Here's the deal," Royce said, clapping his hands together. "This isn't going to be some structured lesson. The Crucible tests your adaptability, so we're doing the same. You two will go through some drills, but it's all about handling the unexpected. Ready?"
Evie groaned. "Do we have a choice?"
"Nope," Royce chirped. "First up, target practice."
He gestured to a row of target boards at varying distances, each adorned with faintly glowing symbols. Alex stepped closer to inspect them. His instincts told him these weren't ordinary targets.
Royce picked up a staff and twirled it casually before planting it in the dirt. "These targets respond to magic. Hit them with a spell, and they'll move. Hit them in the right sequence, and you win a cookie."
"Cookie?" Evie raised an eyebrow.
"Metaphorically speaking," Royce replied, grinning. "Now, show me what you've got."
Alex positioned himself in front of a target, feeling the familiar itch of magic in his fingertips. He hadn't used his abilities meaningfully since he woke up, but now was the time to truly learn something.
Focusing, he raised his hand and let energy pulse through him. With a sharp exhale, he released it. A small burst of fire shot from his palm, grazing the target at the corner.
The rune on the board flashed, and the target spun before settling into a new position.
Royce snickered. "A cantrip? That's all?"
Beside Alex, Evie struggled. Her form was decent, but her execution was all over the place. She summoned runes to strengthen her spells, magic circles floating around her in a chaotic dance. Despite the complexity, her blasts missed more than they hit, and even when they connected, the targets barely budged.
Royce watched with crossed arms. "Evie, you're thinking too much. Magic isn't just about control; it's about instinct. Let it flow."
Alex nodded inwardly. There was truth in Royce's words. Magic wasn't just a technical skill—it was a dance, a rhythm. He narrowed his eyes, watching the target shift again. This time, he moved faster, his next shot sharper and more focused. It hit with enough force to spin the target violently, the rune glowing brighter.
Evie, meanwhile, looked ready to throw her staff out of sheer frustration.
"Alright, not bad," Royce called out after a few more rounds. "Alex, you've got control, but don't stiffen up. Magic's a dance, not a drill. Evie, stop overthinking. Perfection's not your friend right now."
Evie scowled but stayed silent.
"Next up," Royce continued, "the obstacle course. You two are going head-to-head. First one to the end wins."
Evie groaned dramatically. "This is going to suck."
"Probably," Alex replied, smirking. "Ready?"
Evie shot him a glare but nodded.
Royce raised his hand. "On my mark… get set… go!"
They launched forward simultaneously. Alex vaulted over a low beam, his movements smooth and calculated. Evie, with her smaller frame, weaved through tight spaces with ease, keeping pace.
But speed wasn't the only challenge. As Alex neared the middle of the course, he felt a pulse of magic—a trap. One of the platforms shifted beneath him, suddenly slick with grease. He lost his balance, falling onto the beam with a thud.
Evie, however, used the grease to her advantage, sliding past with a triumphant grin. "Better luck next time, Alex!"
Alex gritted his teeth, pushing himself to get back up. He wasn't about to let her win that easily.
By the time they reached the halfway point, both were breathless, sweat dripping down their faces. Alex could feel the burn in his muscles, but he pressed on, forcing himself to move faster. He was starting to find a rhythm, his body responding more naturally to the obstacles.
Evie reached the checkpoint just moments before him, throwing her arms up in victory. "Ha! Beat you!"
"For now," Alex replied, smirking despite the exhaustion.
The more he pushed himself, the smoother his movements became, as if muscle memory was taking over. Royce watched from the sidelines, clapping slowly as they finished.
"Not bad, you two," he said, strolling over. "You've got potential. But remember, the Crucible's not just about speed. It's about who adapts best. Keep that in mind for tomorrow."
Royce paused, then grinned. "Now, let's grab breakfast. Becca's cooking up a storm."
As they headed back to the hostel, Alex couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. The training had been grueling, but it had awakened something in him—something long dormant. And for the first time in a while, he welcomed it.