The feather burned.
Not with fire, but with magic. The moment Arin touched it, a cold heat paradoxical and sharp pierced his palm and sent a jolt straight to his heart.
The crimson feather turned black, crumbling into dust before his eyes.
He didn't scream. He didn't move.
But he knew what it meant.
An assassin. Inside the Academy. And not just any assassin—a Night Raven.
They weren't just killers. They were legends. Ghosts trained in forgotten arts, bound by blood to eliminate magical threats before they could rise.
And now one was hunting him.
For the first time since arriving at the Academy, Arin truly felt fear.
Not of failure. Not of the unknown. But of being erased. Quietly. Without explanation or warning. Just... gone.
And the worst part?
He didn't know who sent the Raven.
He left his room immediately, barely bothering to grab his coat. The halls were quiet too quiet. No whisper of robes. No clack of boots. The torches flickered like they were hiding something in the shadows.
Arin's destination was clear.
Lyra.
If anyone could help him understand what was happening what this threat truly meant then it would be her.
He found her in the Moonlit Wing, her favorite place. A glass hallway lined with ancient paintings and illusions that shifted with the phases of the moon.
She was sitting on the windowsill, staring out at the floating gardens. Her eyes flicked toward him before he even spoke.
"You felt it," she said softly.
Arin nodded. "The feather."
Her jaw tightened. "Then you know."
"Someone wants me dead."
Lyra stood and faced him. "Not just someone. The fact that they sent a Raven means this wasn't done in haste. It was approved. Financed. A deal was struck with one of the hidden orders."
She stepped closer.
"This is political, Arin. You've stepped into something deeper than just your powers or your past."
"But why? I've done nothing—"
"You've existed. That's enough. A Flameborn waking up inside the Mirror Hall and binding themselves under the Headmaster's eye? That scares people."
He stared at her, stunned. "Scares who?"
She didn't answer.
They were silent for a while, the moon casting long shadows across the floor.
Finally, she said, "You need protection. More than what the Academy offers."
"You mean leave?"
"I mean awaken what's sleeping inside you faster than they expect."
The next few days passed in a blur.
Classes continued, but Arin was no longer just a student. Every step, every spell, every scroll he read now felt like preparation for survival.
Lyra trained with him at night harsh, relentless sessions in abandoned dueling chambers and shielded towers.
"Again," she'd say, as his palm bled from a failed fire summon.
"You're holding back."
He gritted his teeth. "I'm trying—"
"Trying won't stop a Raven's blade."
He yelled, thrusting his hands forward.
A burst of white-blue fire shot from his chest not his hands blowing back several dummies at once and cracking the stone floor.
They both froze.
"You've been binding your power wrong," she said slowly. "It's not in your hands. It's in your heart."
By the end of the week, Arin felt sharper. Faster. Hungrier.
But also… watched.
He started noticing things. A shadow that didn't match anything nearby. A glint in the reflection of a classroom window. A chill in the air when he entered the library's third floor.
The Night Raven wasn't rushing.
They were observing.
Stalking.
Waiting for the right moment to strike.
Then came the Announcement.
It echoed through the Academy with magical force, reaching every ear, no matter where they were.
"To all Year One and Year Two students:
You are hereby summoned to the Trial of Shadows.
Participation is mandatory. Survival is… encouraged."
Gasps rippled through the halls. Even the professors looked unsettled.
Arin turned to Lyra. "Trial of Shadows?"
She looked grim. "It's not a test. It's a cull."
That night, all eligible students gathered in the Arena of Echoes a vast underground coliseum carved into stone, illuminated by floating embers that shimmered in the dark.
The Headmaster stood in the center, robes shifting like smoke.
"This Trial," he began, "is not for glory or grades. It is tradition. One that predates even this Academy."
He looked around slowly, letting the silence thicken.
"You will enter. You will face what hides in the dark. And if you are not ready… you will not leave."
Arin's fists clenched. This wasn't about tradition.
It was a trap.
A public way to eliminate him without suspicion. If he died during the trial, no one would question it.
And the Raven wouldn't even need to strike.
The gates opened.
And darkness swallowed them.
Inside, the Trial felt more like a living nightmare.
Arin's team was split up instantly. Illusions attacked from all angles. Spells misfired. A girl screamed, only to vanish into the floor.
Arin focused on his breath.
Focus. Feel. Don't fight the dark listen to it.
Then he heard it.
Wings.
Not flapping. Gliding. Silent. Deadly.
He spun, casting a barrier just in time to deflect a throwing knife laced with poison.
A figure dropped from above cloaked in black feathers, face hidden behind a white porcelain mask carved like a raven's beak.
No spell. No warning.
Just steel.
The Raven moved like liquid shadow, blades spinning.
Arin dodged, ducked, and parried barely.
His fire clashed with the assassin's blades, but something was wrong. The Raven wasn't trying to kill him fast.
They were… testing him.
Like this was still a game.
Arin's fire burst outward in a flare but the Raven vanished into smoke, reappearing behind him.
A blade sliced across his shoulder. He fell to one knee.
And then a scream.
Lyra.
Not in pain. In fury.
She exploded into the chamber with a whirlwind of violet energy, throwing the Raven back with a force Arin had never seen before.
"Touch him again," she snarled, "and I swear by the Old Flames, I will rip your shadows apart one feather at a time."
The Raven didn't retreat.
They bowed.
Then disappeared.
Afterward, the Trial was declared "successful."
Many students were injured. Two were missing. No one mentioned the Raven.
Arin sat in the infirmary, his shoulder bandaged, heart racing.
Lyra sat beside him in silence.
After a long pause, she said, "You need to awaken fully. Or you will die."
He turned to her, eyes heavy. "How?"
Her lips tightened.
"There's one place left that might have the answers. But it's forbidden."
Arin looked out the window. The moon was blood red.
He nodded.
"Then let's go."