The tension in the team lingered as they pressed deeper into the Solaris Crucible. The labyrinth shifted around them, walls of radiant energy grinding against stone as pathways dissolved and reappeared elsewhere. It seemed determined to split them apart or break their resolve.
Yet despite their earlier clash, Lux and Merir now found themselves moving in an unspoken rhythm. It wasn't perfect, nor was it intentionally cooperative. But there was an uneasy understanding—the acknowledgement that survival in this trial required both of them to be at their best and that the chaos of the Crucible left no room for petty animosity.
The Crucible pulsed with light as the next trial emerged before them.
They stepped onto another massive radiant platform, this one constructed of interconnected glowing discs. Within seconds of their arrival, projections started to form around them—glinting, humanoid figures made of hardened light, larger and more distorted than before. And this time, they didn't simply charge forward.
"They're organizing," Fallon muttered, his shield trembling faintly in his hand.
The projections moved as a unit, tightening into clusters and leaving no obvious gaps for attack. They had shields of radiant glyphs and weapons glowing with destructive energy.
"Great," Lux grumbled under her breath, raising her whip and shifting into a battle stance. "They're adapting."
Merir scanned the field quickly. He didn't hesitate—his voice was steady as he said, "We need to destabilize their formation before they close in."
Lux shot him a sideways glance at the word we. She wasn't sure how this dynamic was supposed to work, but there wasn't time for her pride.
"You flank," he continued, his hazel eyes locking with hers. "Your whip has more range. Distract the left side. I'll break through on the right and split their defense."
The others instinctively turned to Lux, waiting for her decision. It had always been her role to lead, and for a moment, she hesitated. But she nodded sharply. "Fine," she said, keeping her tone curt to mask the discomfort of taking orders from her younger brother. "Fallon, stick to support. Cover whoever is closest to you."
And with that, they moved.
Lux darted to the left, golden light radiating from her whip as it slashed through the air with beautiful precision. The sound cracked loudly, rippling plasma-like energy outward as she struck multiple projections at once. The shifting light figures faltered for only a moment, their formation momentarily unbalanced.
It was all the opening Merir needed.
He surged forward, moving faster than Lux had ever seen him move before. His blade became an extension of himself, a single glowing line of purpose as he struck one projection after another with precision so sharp it sent radiant sparks scattering into the air.
Lux realized she was watching him—not just keeping track of his position to avoid getting in his way, but watching him. This wasn't the failing, hesitant boy she had always imagined when she thought of him. This was someone controlled, deliberate, and calm under pressure.
"Focus, Lux!" he called out, sharply but not condescendingly, as another wave of projections charged their position.
Snapping back to reality, she smirked faintly, more to herself than him, and snapped her whip forward again. The motion was aggressive yet fluid, tracing golden arcs across the battlefield and driving several projections toward Merir's waiting blade.
For a few fleeting moments, Lux stopped thinking about the weight of their hatred. It wasn't about proving who was stronger or undermining his success. It was just her and her brother, fighting side by side.
The largest projection materialized at the far end of the platform: a towering, multi-limbed mass of radiant glyphs that throbbed like a beating heart. Its fractured form resembled some grotesque mimicry of a human shape, wielding axes of spiraling light in four glowing hands.
"Fallon, stay back!" Lux ordered immediately, stepping in front of him to shield the team's support. Her whip lashed out as the projection lunged toward them—but her attack glanced off its glyphic armor, barely leaving a mark.
"We're not breaking through that," Fallon stammered, retreating slightly.
"We will," Merir interjected, his tone calm yet determined. "But it won't be easy."
He darted toward Lux's side, his blade flickering like a needle of light as he struck at the projection's exposed limbs, forcing it to take a defensive stance. She lashed her whip expertly around one of its arms to pull it back, giving Merir an opening for another strike.
It wasn't perfect coordination—Lux still made a few commands he ignored, and Merir took risks she didn't understand. But for the first time, they weren't actively working against each other. The rhythm that had been forced upon them earlier now felt... natural, almost.
"Behind you!" Lux shouted suddenly, as another smaller projection appeared out of thin air to flank Merir.
Without hesitation, she lashed her whip backward, cracking it just above her brother's head to intercept the attacker. Merir didn't even flinch—he trusted her strike completely, countering with a spinning move to shatter the projection's weakened core.
Lux blinked, momentarily surprised at how easily he had trusted her. By instinct—not obligation.
Far above the Crucible, Lord Cael Solaris sat at the council dais overlooking the trials. His golden armor caught the glow of the shifting labyrinth below, but his sharp amber eyes never wavered as they locked onto the glowing forms of his children far below.
They weren't close enough for him to hear their conversations or decipher their expressions, but he didn't need to. Every move, every strike, every choice they made told him more than words ever could.
"Interesting," he muttered under his breath, his lips curving into something that wasn't quite a smile but wasn't disapproval either.
"Lord Cael?" one of the branch nobles sitting nearby asked, her voice careful. "Something of note?"
He waved them off silently, his gaze focused entirely on Lux and Merir. He had expected this Crucible to solidify Kael's position and reveal which prodigies beneath him were worth investing in. He hadn't expected anything from Merir at all.
And yet... here he was, watching his youngest son defy every expectation placed upon him. Watching the tension between his two children begin to shift into something more productive, if not entirely repaired.
Cael leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. The fractured family he had trained and shaped was anything but perfect. But perhaps it was not, after all, beyond mending.
Back in the Crucible, the towering projection fell with a deafening pulse of energy, scattering into radiant fragments as every member of the squad let out an exhausted, relieved breath. The glowing glyph they had fought so hard to protect hovered in the platform's center, pulsing faintly as it waited to be claimed.
"Team effort," Fallon muttered nervously, glancing between Lux and Merir. There was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the young noble's lips.
Lux turned toward Merir, watching as he tilted his head slightly and stepped back, leaving her to claim the radiant prize. He didn't say a word, didn't try to assert his own claim—he just gave her the space to lead.
For the first time in years, she didn't take it as a sign of weakness.
Merir didn't need validation. He didn't fight for approval anymore. He just fought to stand on his own.
And as she reached out to take the glyph, her chest felt a little lighter.
"Good work," she said quietly. She glanced back at him, her expression softening for the first time. It wasn't much. It wasn't an apology. But it was a start.
Merir simply nodded.