Upon entering the temple, the first trial revealed itself immediately. The room blazed with heat, and molten lava flowed beneath narrow stone pathways. Fire danced along the walls, and at the center, a glowing pedestal held the first key to the artifact.
"We need to get across," Elara said, her heart pounding as she eyed the treacherous path.
"I can handle this one," Marcus volunteered, his tone confident. "I've always been good with fire magic."
But as Marcus attempted to use his spells to part the flames, something went wrong. The fire lashed out, defying his control, nearly scorching him in the process. Elara acted quickly, using the power of her ancestors to create a shield of energy to protect him.
"What happened?" Garrick demanded, pulling Marcus back.
Marcus clenched his fists, his face clouded with frustration. "I don't know. I've never failed like that before."
Elara tried to offer reassurance. "This temple tests more than just magic. It's testing our hearts, our intentions. We need to work together."
But Marcus's expression didn't soften. Beneath the surface, jealousy simmered. Elara's growing power, her control over magic, and her royal lineage made him question his own place in their group. He stepped back in silence, allowing Isolde and Garrick to help Elara retrieve the key from the pedestal.
As they moved forward, Marcus hung back, his mind racing with doubts. Why was Elara always the one to succeed? Why had he failed?