CHAPTER 109: FIRST STEP TO THE ACADEMY.

Lynnor made them stay up for the night, though Aramith could hardly sleep. He was too excited at this newfound power.

When morning came, he was the first to rise, first to get ready, and first to wait for practice.

When it was time to test him again, Aramith didn’t waste another second trying to access the power like before.

This is embarassing, he thought. They are watching...

He struggled against himself. It felt like the power didn’t want him to control it.

"But it was easier last night..."

He forced again, searching for the power that constantly dodged him. And after struggling against it for almost an hour, he was able to access it, allowing it to take form.

Mozrael and Lynnor watched with worry as Aramith struggled to transform. They felt like it was hopeless; maybe it was a fluke.

Just when Lynnor was about to tell him to take a break, he broke through.

The wolf’s breath steamed in the cool air, heavy with the sound of his lungs working too fast. The shift had left Aramith’s body trembling—not from weakness, but from the strange existence coursing through his veins. He lifted his head and stared at them with eyes that glowed too sharply, too alive.

Mozrael stepped nearer, hesitant. "Aramith... is it still you?" Her voice wavered, uncertain if she was speaking to the boy or the beast.

His ears twitched at her tone. For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then, with effort, his voice came, threaded with a guttural rasp. "It’s me. I can feel everything—the wolf isn’t separate. It’s... me."

But the way his claws dug into the soil told another story. The wolf form did not rest easily. Its instincts pressed against his thoughts like waves, whispering to run, to bite, to chase. The more he lingered in the shape, the more the call of that beastial hunger bled through. His words came with growls now, his throat rumbling between syllables. He now suffered to be himself.

Lynnor’s gaze sharpened. This was exactly what she’d mulled over the previous night. "That’s what worries me. You can speak, yes, but how long before instinct drowns you? Before this beast devours what’s left of your mind? You’re borrowing a power, I hope you’re aware of that."

Her words struck like cold steel. Mozrael clenched her fists, her heart sinking at the truth she didn’t want to hear. She sounded right, but it felt too much like she was discouraging him.

Aramith’s jaw tightened. "No. I’m still here. I can control it."

"Then prove it," Lynnor pressed. She raised her hand, motioning toward Mozrael. "Attack her. Not with your full strength—just enough to strike. Then stop yourself."

"What?!" Mozrael flared, whirling toward her. "You can’t be serious—"

But Lynnor’s eyes were firm, unyielding. "If he can’t control himself against someone he trusts and cares for, what will happen against an enemy? Do you want him to find out in the middle of a real fight, when it’s too late to stop?"

Mozrael bit her lip, torn, but she didn’t argue further. She looked at Aramith, silently asking him to hold back. It would be another story if he couldn’t control himself.

The dark memory of Aramith’s crumpled form when she rushed over to stand in defiance before Henndar crept into her mind.

Aramith swallowed hard. The wolf’s body coiled, muscles tensing. The command was simple—strike. But the beast inside didn’t want to stop. Before he moved, the beast within him forced him to act.

No, not yet!

He launched forward, claws arcing through the air, speed far beyond what his human form had ever carried.

Mozrael braced, flame wrapping her arms. At the last heartbeat, Aramith’s claws halted inches from her chest, trembling violently as he forced them back. A guttural growl tore from his throat, the sound of war inside his own body.

Then he staggered away, claws digging into the ground, panting. He wanted to sound like it didn’t need much effort to accomplish. "I... stopped. I told you—I can control it."

But Mozrael saw the strain in his eyes, the way his body shuddered as if the wolf had wanted to go further, to sink its teeth into her.

Lynnor’s lips curved in a faint, knowing smile. It was fake, but she did it for both their sakes. "You can—for now. But stay too long in that skin, and the beast will eat you alive."

Her words left a heavy silence hanging over them.

Aramith forced himself back into human form, collapsing to one knee with the effort. Sweat slicked his face, his chest heaving. Yet despite the exhaustion, there was a spark in his eyes—a dangerous exhilaration he couldn’t quite hide.

Mozrael knelt beside him, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder. Her voice was low, soft, but edged with fear. "If you lose yourself... we’ll lose you. Don’t let it take you, Aramith." She knew how it felt to have a beast within you that fought to take control. She was both excited and afraid for him.

He met her gaze, the fire of determination flickering there. "Don’t worry, I’ll be able to do it."

Lynnor’s thoughts deepened as she pieced everything together. In one sense, this changed everything for the better. If Aramith could nurture this wolf form, they could present it as his attribute. The others would see it as something natural, a beast-kin talent, nothing to question too deeply. That alone eased a weight off her chest; it would make his entry into the academy far less troublesome.

But the more she thought, the sharper the edges became. This wolf form was not the core of him. His true attribute—his darkness—was something that would be far harder to explain. Too alien, too unstable, too easy to turn into a weapon others feared more than they respected. If that truth surfaced too soon, it could undo all the progress they hoped to make.

A wolf was something the world could accept. Darkness was not.

So the relief she felt was laced with dread. It wasn’t just about hiding what he was. This was about timing, control, and making sure that when the world finally saw Aramith for what he truly was, he’d be strong enough to survive their judgment.

"Well then," Lynnor finally said, brushing the dirt from her hands as she stepped before the siblings. Her grin was sharp, but her eyes carried a weight they hadn’t before. "We’ve wasted enough time hiding in this bush. It’s about time we got you ready for the academy."

Mozrael and Aramith exchanged a glance. The academy. The word itself felt heavy, like a gate looming in the distance that neither of them could yet see.

Lynnor studied them in silence for a long breath. They really are peculiar, she thought. Mozrael could slip into her realm even before breaking through, and yet she avoided speaking of it, avoided naming the dragon dwelling inside her. Lynnor had caught glimpses of that power, felt its weight lurking behind Mozrael’s eyes, but she chose not to press—not yet. That conversation needed patience, not force.

And then there was Aramith. A boy who now bore the form of a wolf bound with darkness. He, too, had grasped something unnatural without crossing the threshold most cultivators struggled toward. Different paths, different powers, yet both of them had reached beyond their years.

And what of Lia? Lynnor wondered, though she did not voice it.

She clasped her hands behind her back. "What comes next will decide much of your future. This next step is heavier than you realize."

The month that followed blurred into relentless training. Lynnor drove them hard, pushing Mozrael until flames scorched her fingertips and shadows rippled at the edge of Aramith’s control. She corrected them with sharp words, tested them with sudden strikes, forced them to trust themselves and each other. By the end, their bodies ached, their breaths burned, but they were sharper, stronger, steadier.

And then, too soon, the month was over.

Lynnor stood before them one last time, arms folded, a sly grin playing at her lips. The forest around them was quiet, waiting.

"So," she said lightly, "it’s time. The academy awaits."

Their faces told her everything—questions brimming, doubts gnawing, even fear glinting behind Mozrael’s fiery eyes. Lynnor chuckled.

"I could explain. But I won’t. An academy is a place of learning, and your first lesson is this: no one is going to hand you the answers. You’ll earn them."

Aramith frowned, scanning the endless trees. "I don’t even see an academy. How far are we?"

"Hundreds of miles," Lynnor said, as if it were the simplest thing. "But that’s irrelevant. You don’t need to reach it—you need only survive the entrance exam."

Survive?

Before either could respond, she turned and strode a few paces ahead. From her sleeve, she pulled two small stones, smooth and unremarkable, and dropped them to the ground. They burst with smoke, and the air shivered, twisting, folding. Two portals shimmered into being, the space itself warping at their edges.

"This one," she pointed to the left, "will carry you to the exam grounds. That one," her finger flicked to the right, "takes me directly to the academy."

And before they could so much as open their mouths, she hopped into her portal and vanished.

"...She’s insane," Aramith muttered.

But then, as if she’d heard, Lynnor’s head popped back out of the portal. "Oh—almost forgot. You haven’t finished the exam until you see me again. Or if you see—" she paused, lips twitching, "—nevermind. Anyway! Aramith, use your wolf form once you’re inside. It’ll carry you faster down the path. The exam’s already starting. Miss it, and you wait another year. Good luck!"

With a wink, she disappeared again. The portal sealed shut behind her, leaving only silence.

They weren’t too surprised. This was how Lynnor behaved. just dumping things on tehm adn expecting results.

They stared at the remaining portal, its swirling light casting their faces in pale blue.

Aramith clenched his fists. "I hate her," he muttered, picturing Lynnor laughing at their bewilderment somewhere on the other side.

Mozrael’s expression was harder to read. Confusion, yes—but deeper than that, unease. The academy meant people. Strangers. Eyes that would not understand what they were, what dwelled inside them. For the first time in weeks, her flame trembled at the edges of her control. One simple slip up and they won’t have an easy life.

Aramith noticed. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "We’ll figure it out. Together. Whatever trick she’s thrown at us, we’ll break through it."

Mozrael’s lips parted in a faint smile, though her eyes betrayed her fear. We’re alone again, she thought.

Together, they stepped into the portal.