The morning sun gleamed fiercely on the Solaris Estate, casting golden rays across the vast ceremonial courtyard. Its polished marble tiles shimmered under the light, the engraved family crest—an elaborate sun radiating a perfect circle of glyphs—reflecting that divine brilliance. The day was hot, heavy with tension, and alive with whispers carried on a wind laced with both anticipation and confidence.
The Coming of Age Ceremony was in full swing.
Every descendant of the House of Solaris—from the noble main family to the ambitious branch lines—stood gathered, hundreds strong. Eager competitors filled the courtyard, wearing combat robes woven with golden glyphs and beautifully etched armor. Some whispered casually amongst themselves, others stood silent, their breaths even and disciplined.
They were radiant, luminous—every one of them an image of the divinity their bloodline promised.
And then there was Merir.
He stood alone at the edge of the gathering, silent and still. His black tunic, plain and unadorned, made him a stark contrast to the others. His robes bore no golden glyphs, nor did they shimmer like the awe-inspiring apparel of his peers. But unlike the year before, Merir's quiet demeanor carried no hesitation—no weakness.
He scanned the crowd with calm, hazel eyes. Every instinct burned with memory, every muscle honed by endless fights in the untamed forests outside the Solaris Estate. He wasn't like these descendants, with their sing-song praises of light passed down like inheritance. His power wasn't given to him. He had *earned it.
Today wasn't the day to prove himself to them. No. That isn't what this was about anymore. Today was about survival... and victory.
---
The herald's voice boomed across the plaza, loud and commanding. His ceremonial silver robes, trimmed with golden embroidery, shimmered faintly as he gestured toward the crowd.
"Descendants of the Solaris bloodline," he declared, "today marks the day you stand at the threshold of greatness." His words hung heavy in the courtyard, silencing murmurs. "This is the Coming of Age Ceremony. In the footsteps of your ancestors, you will face the Trials of Ascendance. Before the sun sets, you will prove whether you are worthy to carry our name."
The air buzzed with excitement, ambition mingling with tension. They all knew what was at stake: the strongest would rise to represent the family as its shining stars, destined to attend the Lumina Academy and carry the banner of Solaris on their shoulders. The rest? Forgotten.
"Strength and radiance," continued the herald, pointing to the center of the massive courtyard, "will decide your path."
He gestured broadly now, toward the older Solaris elites and noble guests seated on an elevated dais overlooking the event. There, at the center of it all, stood Lord Cael Solaris, the head of the family. His golden ceremonial armor gleamed, flawless and imposing, as he surveyed the courtyard like a carving of a god brought to life.
Beside him stood Kael and Lux, Merir's elder siblings. Strong. Elegant. Perfect.
Kael, the eldest, looked every bit the future heir with his tall frame, confident posture, and golden Solaris Blade resting lightly in his hand. He wore his perfection without arrogance—poised, focused. A true leader.
Beside him stood Lux, taut and sharp like the whip of light coiled at her hip. Her narrow blue eyes scanned the crowd with cold amusement, her smirk ever-present, hungry for the violence she knew was coming.
Merir didn't bother looking long at them. Their glares—or Kael's indifference—meant nothing. He turned away, focusing instead on the announcement.
---
The herald cleared his throat, speaking over the oppressive silence now gripping the courtyard.
"The first trial," he proclaimed, "is simple. It is a test of strength—of resolve—of mastery. Let the unworthy fall here, where the light they summon reveals their shortcomings. Step forward when your name is called." His voice carried sharp finality. "Summon your light-forged weapon. Summon your shield. Prove you are worthy of Solaris."
The crowd stiffened, tension rolling over the competitors like a breaking wave.
---
"Kael Solaris," the herald called, the name slicing through the quiet like a blade.
Kael moved immediately, entering the center of the plaza with confident strides. Every movement, from the graceful sway of his golden robes to the casual way he raised his hand, oozed the calm arrogance of someone destined for success.
A faint glow shimmered around him as golden energy effortlessly gathered in his open palm, expanding outward and hardening like molten metal into the shape of a longsword. It was immaculate—perfectly symmetrical and without a single flaw. Its light hummed softly, powerful, pure.
Another gesture conjured Kael's shield. Brilliant and unyielding, it flared into existence with no more than a thought, its surface gleaming like a sunlit mirror.
The instructor approached, wielding his enchanted training weapon. He struck Kael's shield with a low, testing blow. The clang echoed faintly across the courtyard—but the shield didn't shift. Not even a fraction.
"Exceptional," said the herald, nodding. Kael offered no response, merely stepping aside with the same effortless grace as the weapon and shield dissolved into glowing motes of light.
---
Others followed, their names called in succession. Competitors stepped forward, each bending light to their will with discipline and purpose. Daggers, spears, maces—their summoned weapons came in various forms, each glowing with the unmistakable Solaris touch of radiance.
The lesser branch family members fared decently, though none matched the proficiency of the main family. Spectators murmured their approval when a particularly strong summoning was done, though it quickly gave way to silence when another took the stage.
Lux's performance drew sharp attention as she snapped her glowing whip into existence with a graceful flick. It coiled and flowed with a deliberate, intimidating rhythm, followed by a smaller oval shield she wielded effortlessly. Her movements radiated elegance, and her shield held perfectly against the instructor's strike.
The crowd applauded, nodding with approval.
Merir kept his gaze steady, ignoring the growing whispers already building around him.
---
Finally, after nearly an hour of displays, the herald's voice boomed again:
"Merir Solaris, 3rd of the main family. Step forward."
The whispers turned sharp.
"Why's he even here?"
"He still thinks he's part of the family?"
"I heard he couldn't even summon a blade as a kid."
Merir inhaled deeply, stepping into the center of the courtyard without hesitation.
The stares burned at his back, but he refused to flinch. He didn't speak. He didn't look at the crowd. His focus was entirely forward, facing the herald and the instructor waiting to judge his efforts.
"Summon your blade," the herald commanded, his voice as doubtful as the crowd's murmurs.
Merir raised his right hand.
He murmured under his breath, so quietly no one else could hear. "This light is a blade."
A thin but blinding line of golden energy erupted between his fingers, crackling faintly as it expanded outward. Slowly, carefully, it took shape—a narrow, single-edged sword, sharper than any in the courtyard so far. It thrummed subtly as Merir raised it, turning it slowly in the light.
It wasn't as large or as grand as the others' weapons, but it was undeniably stable.
The blade's sharp, almost understated form made it feel dangerous—like something shaped for the sole purpose of cutting through whatever dared to stand in its way.
The instructor stepped forward, testing it with a tap of his training weapon. The sound rang clear and clean, the narrow edge holding firmly against the blow.
"Good," said the herald, his surprise only faintly concealed. "Summon your shield."
Merir lowered the blade, exhaling evenly.
"This light is a shield."
Golden energy flowed again, forming a triangular shield that flared to life on his left arm. The surface shimmered faintly, its edges sharpened and jagged like shards of burning glass. It wasn't as perfect as the other shields summoned that day—but it didn't need to be.
When the instructor's weapon struck it, the shield splintered faintly under the force, but it held.
Merir dismissed both shield and blade, stepping back into the lineup without a word as whispers rippled around him. He didn't care what they said.
This was only the beginning.
---
The first trial was over, the weak separated from the strong. Only those who had successfully summoned their radiant tools remained.
But the second trial would be different.
In the Crimson Circle, there would be no displays, no subtle gestures. It was combat, raw and unfiltered. Strength and precision would determine everything. For Merir, it was a chance to finally show the family what light forged through desperation could do.
He tightened his fists. Lux had lingered at the edge of the courtyard, her smirk sharper than ever. She tilted her head as if already imagining his inevitable defeat in the next trial.
Merir's lips curled into the faintest of smiles. Think what you want. You're not ready for me.