Torches cracked under the night sky. Beyond the east wing's colonnade, a trio of guards stood at attention, helms polished, halberds angled toward the stars. Krans del Leon approached from the courtyard, footsteps steady on the mossy flagstones. His coat, freshly brushed, caught a faint gleam from lanterns swinging overhead. He carried no staff; Summoners did not need them.
At the broad stone doors carved with elemental sigils—wind spirals, water waves, fire tongues, and jagged earth lines—he found Levara Salion adjusting her gloves, jaw set as if biting back an oath. Nearby, Danek Torren leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, and Arrix Velhar hovered at the edge of the torchlight, shoulders hunched.
A senior official in crimson robes stepped forward. She wore a mask of silver filigree and spoke with clipped clarity: "You four stand at the threshold of the Fourfold Sanctum. Once inside, no aid comes from outside. Your Summons alone must answer the trials. Understood?"
Levara pulled a stray curl behind her ear, chin up. "Understood," she said, voice taut. Danek gave a curt nod. Arrix swallowed, murmuring agreement.
Krans offered a measured smile, folding his hands behind him. "We're ready," he said, voice calm, carrying a hint of reassurance. He caught Arrix's eye, and the younger cadet's trembling shoulders eased a fraction.
At a small signal from the official, the guards set their halberds aside and heaved against the heavy doors. Old hinges groaned. Dust puffed out. A breath of stale air drifted from within. The entrance yawned open, revealing a wide stairway descending into gloom lit by faint bluish orbs.
"Go," said the official, stepping back. "Your trial awaits."
Levara moved first, boots tapping on the first stair. Danek followed, silent, eyes narrowed as if dissecting every shadow. Arrix came next, hesitating only once when the light dimmed. Krans took the rear, walking with an unhurried pace, listening to the echoes.
About halfway down, Levara broke the hush, whispering over her shoulder, "Del Leon, you think this place lives up to the stories? They say spirits here are older than the Empire's founding."
Krans's tone remained low. "Older, maybe. Dangerous, certainly." He touched a wall as they descended, feeling grooves under his fingertips. "Keep alert." His voice was steady, carrying a warmth that made Levara exhale and smile faintly, though he could barely see her face in the half-dark.
At the bottom of the stairs, the corridor split into four archways, each marked by a different rune of elemental shape: a swirling gust, a droplet, a flame, a sturdy root. The blue orbs floated in midair, humming softly. Arrix peered at them, curious. "Which path first?" he asked, voice breaking slightly on the last word.
Danek ran a hand over short-cropped hair. "We weren't told," he muttered, stepping closer to Krans, who knelt to examine the runes. A thin layer of grit coated the floor. No footprints, no sign of previous challengers.
Krans inhaled and rose. "We're Summoners. Let's think like it," he said quietly. "Each arch likely leads to a trial keyed to an element. We must face them all. Perhaps we must pass each corridor in turn." He stepped toward the gust rune, fingers hovering an inch away, feeling a subtle current of air. "Wind first, or Water? What say you?"
Levara scoffed softly. "I'd take Wind any day over drowning," she said. "Water trials can be tricky, and Arrix might panic."
Arrix bristled. "I'm not a coward," he insisted, voice low. "I can handle Water if needed." He caught Krans's eye and lowered his tone. "But Wind's safer to start."
Danek gave a grunt of agreement.
Krans nodded, turning toward the gust-marked arch. "Wind it is," he said. He stepped forward, and as he did, the orbs shifted, trailing behind them like curious fireflies.
They walked a narrow corridor that smelled faintly of old leaves and distant rain. A quiet susurrus echoed, as if something exhaled softly far ahead. The corridor soon opened into a chamber with a high ceiling and a floor of uneven stone. Slots in the walls hinted at hidden mechanisms. On the far side, a low platform with a key-like protrusion beckoned.
As they entered, a sudden draft rustled their hair. Levara jerked her head up. "Something moved," she hissed.
Arrix tightened his jaw, knuckles whitening. Danek bent his knees, ready to spring. Krans spread his stance, lifting one hand as if to quiet them. "We are Summoners," he reminded them gently. "We face trials by calling forth creatures born of mana. That is our strength. Let's not forget to Summon."
Without waiting, he closed his eyes, heart steadying. He focused on the space before him, and with a subtle gesture, drew mana threads into shape. A faint shimmer materialized, forming the silhouette of a small winged creature—part falcon, part haze. It perched on empty air and turned keen eyes toward the darkness ahead.
Levara inhaled, impressed despite herself. She conjured too, weaving a miniature elemental fox whose ears pricked at every sound. Danek formed something bulkier—a hunched spirit-lizard with heavy claws. Arrix followed suit with trembling hands, calling forth a wispy drake.
No sooner had their summons manifested than gusts erupted from hidden vents. Wind roared through the chamber, forcing them to brace themselves. The summoned creatures fluttered, some nearly tossed about, but Krans's falcon clung to the currents as if born to it, guiding others to shift their positions. He called softly, "Steady now," voice carrying over the rush. The others caught his tone and calmed their breathing.
A blade of wind sliced at the floor, peeling loose shards of stone. Levara's fox scampered aside, yipping silently. Danek's spirit-lizard dug its claws into a crack. Arrix hissed in panic as his drake lost form, scattering like mist. Krans's falcon soared higher, meeting the gale head-on.
Krans stepped forward, leaning into the wind. He guessed they must guide their summons to a switch or lever—something on that distant platform. His falcon dove gracefully, talons extended, snagging the protrusion on the platform. With a firm tug, the stone clicked.
In a breath, the wind began to subside. The howling ceased, leaving only a lingering breeze. The Summoners exhaled as one, shoulders loosening. Arrix retrieved his mana threads, reforming his drake shakily. Levara's fox vanished with a swirl of sparks. Danek's lizard knuckled down, fading back into nothing.
Krans turned, meeting each companion's eyes. "We made it," he said softly. "One down."
Levara raised a brow. "Well led, del Leon," she said, sounding almost reluctant to praise him. But she smirked after, a friendly glint in her gaze.
Arrix nodded thanks, still catching his breath. Danek just grunted, but there was no mistaking the respect in that sound.
Together they advanced to the now-silent platform. A small stone panel lifted in the floor, revealing a new passage. Without prompting, they moved on, each step gaining confidence, each Summoner more sure of their path. Krans walked at the head this time, lantern glow dancing on his face. He offered Arrix a quiet nod, bolstering the younger boy's spirits, and Arrix squared his shoulders in return.
They pressed forward, deeper into the Sanctum's secrets, trusting Krans's calm voice and ready smile. The trials had begun, and they were still whole, still moving as one—Summoners forging a path in the hush beneath the Academy.