---
The trial had been a spectacle. From his raw, chaotic display of lightning to Silas perfect control on his affinity to Margaret Windsor's perfectly executed, ice-clad ballet and Ren Sullivan's casual flames, the courtyard had been filled with emotions, whispers, and awe.
And yet, in the aftermath, Lyrium couldn't shake the strange unease curling in his stomach.
The spectators had gone back to their groups, their conversations growing louder, but Lyrium stood apart, his gaze lingering on the obelisk for far too long.
His trial hadn't been a success in the way Margaret's had been.
He'd lost control, briefly, and that fact made him uneasy.
He didn't need to be the best, but he knew what it felt like to have his affinity slip from his grasp.
"Not bad, huh?"
Lyrium blinked, and there stood Ren, wearing his usual lazy grin.
The boy had a strange way of making everything feel trivial. But it wasn't entirely annoying. It was almost… comforting.
"You certainly made something," Lyrium replied, deadpan.
Ren laughed, clapping him on the back in a manner that could've been more painful had it been anyone else.
"That's the spirit! You were good, but hey, nothing's perfect."
He gave Lyrium a cheeky wink before stepping back into the crowd.
Lyrium muttered under his breath, "Like you're one to talk."
Yet despite his words, Lyrium felt a sense of reluctant admiration for Ren.
He had seen the chaos that Ren had unleashed on the fire trial, and yet, Ren seemed to approach the world with a kind of unshakable confidence that Lyrium lacked.
A shift in the crowd pulled Lyrium out of his thoughts.
The loud chatter fell silent as Headmistress Emily stepped forward, her eyes scanning the initiates in front of her.
She stood tall and composed, the momentary silence reflecting the weight of her presence.
"The trials are complete," she announced, her voice firm, "but your true test has only begun."
Lyrium Just stared at her with knowing eyes.
Yet, now that it was over, the weight of the words "true test" sent a ripple of discomfort through the crowd.
"Tomorrow," Emily continued, "we will begin the real assignments. Your battle test will be held."
A murmur of surprise rippled through the students.
Lyrium who already know just stared at Emily.
"Until then," Emily continued, "you may all rest to random dorms. And those who want to roam and check the Academy may go. You will assign to your respective rooms after your ranks evaluate. Rest and prepare yourselves."
"Are you going to rest or roam around the Academy, mate."
Lyrium turned to find Ren standing beside him again, his hands still in his pockets and a lopsided grin on his face.
Ren's eyes glinted with mischief.
"I suppose so," Lyrium muttered.
As the initiates began heading back to their dorms, he walked with Ren, though he felt the odd pull of tension in his chest. Tomorrow would be the real test.
---
Later that night, as Lyrium lay in the bed of one of the dorms, staring up at the ceiling, the academy's stone walls felt more oppressive than usual.
The room was silent, save for the occasional rustle of paper from the desk across the room, and the soft creak of wood from the floorboards.
Tomorrow.
The thought echoed in his mind like the toll of a bell.
There was void, who he don't want to use and Lightning lightning which was a volatile element—wild, unpredictable, and dangerous but common at the same time.
The trial today had been a testament to that. Even if he could control it, even if he could master it, he wasn't sure that would be enough to stand out in a place like this.
Lyrium rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes.
The academy wasn't like the stories he had read about in his previous life—there was no romanticized grandeur to it, no easy camaraderie.
It was a place for the powerful, the elite, and the dangerous. And he was neither.
He was just a person who had been thrust into a body he didn't understand.
A knock on the door broke the silence.
Lyrium sat up, startled. "Who is it?"
The door creaked open, revealing the form of a figure standing in the doorway. It was Ren. Of course.
"You up?" Ren asked casually, leaning against the doorframe. "Couldn't sleep?"
Lyrium raised an eyebrow. "It's not even that late."
Ren grinned.
"True, but you looked like you were a million miles away when I saw you earlier. Figured I'd pop by and keep you company."
Lyrium didn't know whether to be annoyed or grateful for Ren's presence, but at the moment, he welcomed the distraction.
"Why do you care?"
Ren shrugged.
"You seem like you've got a lot on your mind. And we'll be roommates for now, so might as well start the conversation now. Who knows? Maybe we'll end up in the same class. You know, after the rank evaluation."
Lyrium gave a noncommittal shrug. "I suppose. But what if I'm just not cut out for this?"
Ren's grin faltered for a second before it returned, wider than before.
"Hey, if you weren't cut out for this, you wouldn't have been accepted. I saw that lightning earlier, remember? That wasn't weak. You've got something in you. You just need to figure out how to use it."
Lyrium was silent for a long moment, considering Ren's words.
He wasn't wrong. But there was a difference between potential and success. Potential had been something he had lived with in his past life—a promise that never truly manifested.
And now, even with all the opportunities the academy had to offer, he didn't feel like he was making any headway.
"I'm not sure I can control it," Lyrium admitted quietly.
"You can," Ren replied simply, his tone much more serious than Lyrium expected. "It just takes time. And the right teacher. You'll find your rhythm eventually."
"But really, just don't forget—you'll never know how strong you are, until being strong is your only way to survive."
Lyrium wasn't convinced. But the fact that Ren was willing to listen—even if it was in his own way—was something Lyrium couldn't quite ignore.
And also—he couldn't quite ignore the fact that—instead of Ren talking with Silas—who was the protagonist of this world—Ren was having conversation with him.
"Maybe a 'Butterfly Effect' ?"
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