Darkness slowly faded from Skylar's mind as pain sharply returned to her body. For a moment, she thought she was still in the Danger Zone, but the surroundings had changed. Instead of cold, damp ground, she was now lying on a soft mattress, and the salty sea breeze was replaced by the gentle scent of herbs.
She slowly opened her eyes. The ceiling above her was made of smooth stone, and dim torchlight danced across the walls. The room was small but clean; she lay in a simple wooden bed, with a dresser beside it holding a bowl of water and a few cloths. Her arms felt weak, but a warm blanket covered her body. For a brief moment, even through the pain, she felt at peace.
Then the realization struck.
The wolf. The rain. That power that had burst from within her. And the hand that had caught her before she lost consciousness.
Her breathing quickened, and when she tried to sit up, her body immediately protested. A sharp pain tore through her ribs, and a soft moan escaped her lips.
"Don't try to move just yet," said a deep, calm voice.
Skylar froze and turned her head toward the sound. A tall man stood at the door, with shoulder-length raven-black hair. The dark blue uniform of the academy stretched over his broad shoulders, and a silver badge gleamed on his chest. His cold, gray eyes studied her intently, though his face remained expressionless.
"Who are you?" Skylar asked hoarsely.
The man stepped further into the room and sat down on a chair beside her bed. For a moment, he said nothing, as if studying her before replying.
"Damian Silverman," he said at last. "Instructor of combat strategy at the academy. I was sent to bring you back."
Skylar narrowed her eyes. "They sent you? They knew I would fall?"
Damian's gaze hardened slightly. "No. But when a student disappears near the edge of the Danger Zone, the academy doesn't ignore it."
Skylar absorbed his words.
"How long have I been here?" she finally asked.
"Two days," Damian replied. "While you were unconscious, a healer monitored you constantly. Most of your wounds have healed, but you're still weak."
Skylar looked down at herself and only now noticed that her hands were clean, and the bruises on her arms had almost faded. Her injuries had healed faster than she had expected.
Her thoughts drifted back to the events of the night. That wolf… that power…
"What happened down there?" she asked softly, as if afraid of the answer herself.
Damian leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. "I'd like to know that too. According to reports, a wolf attacked you. But something happened. The weather changed in an instant—rain and wind struck with elemental force. And when we found you, the wolf was gone. You were…" He paused, as if weighing his words, "completely drained."
Skylar's lips parted, but she didn't know what to say. If she revealed that she had summoned the storm… what would they do to her? Until now, everyone had believed she was powerless. But this couldn't have been a coincidence.
Damian was watching her, as if he knew she was hiding something.
"Rest," he said finally, rising from the chair. "The Headmistress will want to see you soon. And if you're smart, you won't hide the truth from her."
Skylar swallowed the questions rising inside her and silently watched Damian walk toward the door. As he stepped out, he paused for a moment and glanced back at her.
"I don't know what you are," he said quietly, "but you'd better find out before someone else does."
With that, he closed the door, leaving Skylar alone with her thoughts.
Beyond the window, the sun was slowly rising, chasing away the shadows of the night.
But for Skylar, the true darkness was only just beginning.
——
Skylar moved slowly and carefully, the pain still pulsing through her body. The faint light streaming through the window signaled that the sun was already high. She didn't know how much time had passed since she had woken up, but she was certain she couldn't rest any longer. Damian's words echoed in her mind: she had to find out what was happening to her—before someone else did.
The door to the room opened quietly, and a familiar figure stepped inside. Headmistress Beatrice Morris entered with the same cold dignity as when Skylar had first seen her by the dock. Her black uniform was flawlessly tailored, and her gaze was sharp and unreadable.
"I see you're finally awake," she said softly, though her voice carried unmistakable authority. "I hope you've taken some time to reflect on what happened."
Skylar sat up in bed, trying to straighten her posture, but the movement pulled at her side, and she winced despite herself. The Headmistress seemed to ignore it and sat down on a chair beside the bed.
"I don't like to mince words, Skylar Dawin," she continued. "It's not every day that a student comes out of the Danger Zone alive—especially like this. What can you tell me about it?"
Skylar felt the Headmistress's eyes piercing right through her. She carefully chose her words before speaking.
"I'm not exactly sure what happened," she said at last. "All I know is that I wanted to protect myself… and somehow, I did."
The Headmistress's face remained expressionless, though a flicker of interest seemed to pass through her eyes.
"Water and wind," she said finally. "Two elements. A rare combination. And it seems you used them instinctively—without knowing it."
Skylar's heart skipped a beat.
"What does that mean?" she asked, trying to gather her thoughts.
"It means you're not an ordinary student," Morris replied. "And if you want to stay alive, you'll need to learn to control that power."
The woman leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms.
"According to academy regulations, every new student takes part in an initiation trial that determines the level at which they begin their training," she went on. "But your case… is exceptional. That's why you'll face a special trial. A task that will test not only your abilities but your willpower as well."
Skylar froze.
"And if I fail?" she asked quietly.
Morris's gaze turned cold.
"Then the academy has no place for you. Only those who can survive are allowed to remain here."
Skylar's throat felt dry, but she nodded. Whatever this trial held for her, she had no choice. If she wanted to understand herself—if she wanted to prove she wasn't just a nobody—she had to pass.
"When does it begin?" she asked.
The Headmistress smiled—a faint but calculating smile.
"At dawn tomorrow. Prepare yourself, Skylar Dawin. Because the real battle of your life begins now."
In the misty silence of dawn, Skylar took a deep breath as she stepped to the edge of the training grounds. The air was cool, and the sky was cloaked in soft shades of pink, signaling that the sun was about to break through the morning fog. The terrain before her was raw and untouched—dense vegetation, rocks, and winding paths led toward the distant mountains.
There was only one rule for the trial: reach the finish line in the shortest possible time. She had no map, no tools—only her instincts and whatever abilities she could rely on.
The training officer, a tall, stubbled man, addressed her in a deep voice:
"This trial isn't just about strength—it's about strategy. If you charge ahead like a fool, you won't get far. Use your head, Skylar."
Skylar nodded but said nothing. The other students watching her departure eyed her with curiosity. Some had a glint of mockery in their gaze; others watched her with genuine interest. But she paid none of them any attention. She had only one goal: complete the trial and prove she belonged here.
The instructor raised his hand.
"Go!"
Skylar launched forward at once.
The first few meters passed easily, dry soil crunching beneath her feet, and the path between the trees was still clear. But she knew it wouldn't last. The academy didn't hand out easy tasks.
Within minutes, the trail vanished, and the terrain became increasingly difficult. Tree trunks closed in around her, vines and underbrush became obstacles. Skylar made a quick decision: she wouldn't take the straightest route—she'd take the smartest one.
Reaching the top of a hill, she looked around. In the distance, a ravine cut through the landscape, offering a possible shortcut. But it was risky. The rocks were steep, and a river roared below. The other option was a longer, safer path that wound along the edge of the mountains.
Skylar's heart pounded faster. There was no time to hesitate. If she wanted to win, she had to take the risk.
She headed for the ravine.
With each step, she drew closer to the edge, and as she looked down, she paused. The drop was daunting, the water rushing violently between the cliff walls. Only one possible crossing point was visible: an old, rotting tree trunk stretched between the two rocky sides.
Skylar tensed. There was no other choice. She stepped cautiously onto the trunk, which groaned under her weight. Every step was precise, every movement controlled. The air was freezing, the wind tugged at her hair, but she couldn't afford to falter.
She was halfway across when she heard a crack. The tree shifted.
Time seemed to slow. Skylar's heart skipped a beat, then her instincts took over. With one fluid motion, she lunged forward—just as the trunk splintered behind her and crashed into the depths below.
Skylar landed hard on the other side. For a moment, the world spun around her, but there was no time to stop. She scrambled to her feet and kept going.
The trial wasn't over yet.
And she wasn't ready to fail.
Skylar's lungs burned as she climbed the next incline. After crossing the ravine, there had been no time to stop—she knew the academy's trials weren't just about physical strength, but also endurance and cunning. The terrain was growing more treacherous, the ground shifting beneath her feet, and with every step she had to be careful not to slip on the loose soil.
The canopy above grew denser as she moved deeper into the forest. Sunlight barely filtered through the thick branches, and the air turned stiflingly humid. Skylar felt sweat trickle down her back, but she couldn't stop. She knew the trial was timed, and any delay would lower her chances of success.
A faint, barely audible sound broke the silence. Skylar froze, ears straining. She wasn't alone.
Something was moving in the underbrush.
Her heart pounded wildly, but she didn't let fear take over. Slowly, she backed toward the trunk of a large tree, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. She caught a glimpse of a shadow slipping between the bushes, then a low growl echoed through the forest.
Skylar's body tensed. She didn't know what kind of creature hid among the trees, but she was certain it wasn't friendly.
After a moment of silence, the beast emerged.
A massive, dark-furred creature stepped out of the shadows, its muscular body blocking the path. Its red eyes glowed in the dim light, and its fangs gleamed as it bared its teeth at her. This was no ordinary wolf—larger, more powerful, and something in its movements hinted at intelligence.
Skylar felt her heartbeat pounding in her throat, but she didn't move. She knew that if she tried to run, the beast would catch her instantly. She had only one chance: fight.
Slowly, she lowered her arms and clenched her fists. She felt the air shift around her, as if nature itself was responding to the threat. Her instincts whispered that she should try what she had done in the Danger Zone. She took a deep breath and let the energy surge through her.
The beast leapt.
Skylar instinctively stepped back and thrust her arm forward in one fluid motion. The air around her trembled, then a powerful gust of wind slammed into the creature. The wolf was knocked sideways, losing its balance for a brief moment.
This was her only chance.
Without hesitation, Skylar made another motion, drawing on the surrounding mist and moisture—the air grew colder as droplets gathered in her hand, forming into a sharp blade of ice. The wolf growled and lunged again, but this time Skylar was ready.
With a swift turn, she dodged and struck from the side with the ice blade. It only grazed the beast's thick fur, but it was enough to make the creature recoil and stumble back.
Skylar stood, panting, ready to strike again—but the wolf began to retreat. Its red eyes stayed locked on her for a moment longer, then with a final growl, it turned and disappeared into the depths of the forest.
Skylar remained still for a moment longer, then slowly straightened once she was sure the danger had passed. Her heart still thundered, her body trembled with exhaustion—but one thing was certain.
She wasn't going to give up this trial.
There was still a finish line she had to reach.
——
Skylar pushed forward with effort, exhaustion still pulsing through her body, but she couldn't afford to rest. The adrenaline from the fight was slowly leaving her, replaced by pain and fatigue. She knew it wasn't over yet—she still had to reach the finish line.
As she emerged from the trees, a steep mountainside rose before her. A narrow path wound between the rocks, climbing toward a summit lost in the mist. There was only one way forward: she had to climb.
Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Skylar began the ascent. The rocks were slick with moisture, and she had to watch every step to keep her footing. The air grew thinner, her lungs burned, but she refused to stop. She'd come too far to give up now.
Halfway up, a rock shifted beneath her foot. She barely managed to grab a ledge before she would've fallen into the depths below. Her heart pounded, her palms were slick with sweat, but she didn't let fear take over. With slow, controlled movements, she continued her climb until she finally reached the edge.
At the top, she found a clearing. The finish line was in sight—a stone pillar stood in the center of the clearing, surrounded by tiny, floating crystals that sparkled in the sunlight. Skylar had never seen anything like it. The crystals vibrated softly, as if watching her.
She took a step forward when a deep, resonant voice filled the space:
"Who are you, and why have you come?"
Skylar froze and looked around, but saw no one. The voice seemed to come from the air itself—speaking directly into her mind.
"I'm Skylar Dawin," she replied, trying to sound confident. "I'm completing the trial to prove I'm worthy of the academy."
The crystals began to vibrate more rapidly, and a bluish light filled the clearing. Skylar instinctively stepped back, but felt no threat—only a curious, watchful presence.
"The power lies within you," the voice echoed. "But can you control it?"
Suddenly, swirling water appeared at the center of the clearing, rising as if from the earth itself. The surface rippled, and an image formed—Skylar's own reflection. But something was different. Her eyes were glowing, and a faint blue aura shimmered around her hair. The sight was mesmerizing.
The voice returned:
"I believe you are worthy. Step into the water."
Skylar took a deep breath and stepped forward. The water was cold, but didn't resist her—it felt as though it welcomed her in. As she became fully submerged, the world went dark.
In the next moment, she found herself in a different place. She stood on a rocky plateau, and before her, a figure began to form from the air. A woman, with long, flowing blue hair, clothed in what looked like fabric woven from water and wind. Her gaze was clear and translucent, as though she were part of nature itself.
"Skylar Dawin," the woman spoke, her voice as soft as the whisper of waves. "The gods are watching you. It is no coincidence you were brought here. But your fate is yours to shape. Are you ready to accept what lies within you?"
Skylar's heart beat faster.
"What am I?" she asked quietly.
The woman smiled gently.
"That is for you to discover," she said, raising her hand. The air around them trembled, the world blurred—and Skylar was pulled into darkness once more.
When she woke, she was back in the clearing. The water had vanished, and the crystals floated calmly around her. The finish line was now within reach.
She took a single step, and the stone pillar shifted. The crystals flared with light for an instant, then everything fell silent.
The trial was over.
Skylar drew a deep breath and knew that this was only the beginning of her true journey.
—
Skylar could still feel the vibration of the crystals beneath her skin, as if the energy she had experienced in the clearing hadn't fully left her. Her heart was still racing—but now from excitement, and from an inexplicable sense of certainty. Something inside her had changed.
She slowly returned to reality. By crossing the finish line, the trial was officially complete—but she knew this was only the beginning. A path led back to the academy, where she would now return as a full-fledged student. With every step, her senses sharpened, as if nature itself responded to her presence. The air moved lightly around her, and the ground trembled gently beneath her feet as she walked.
At the academy gates, they were waiting. Headmistress Beatrice Morris stood with her arms crossed, a faint, satisfied smile on her lips. A few instructors stood beside her, including Damian Silverman—who no longer looked as distant as he had before.
"Congratulations, Miss Dawin," the Headmistress said. "You've completed the trial successfully. But the real challenge begins now."
Skylar took a deep breath and straightened her posture.
"I'm ready."
Morris nodded, then gave a small gesture to the instructors.
"Training begins tomorrow. Your elemental magic is rare, and we'll ensure it's properly developed. Your room is prepared, and you'll be assigned a mentor to guide you through the first few weeks."
Skylar glanced around. Other students watched her from a distance—some with awe, others with envy. But for the first time, she didn't feel like an outsider.
"Who will be my mentor?" she finally asked.
A figure stepped forward from among the instructors. A tall man with a strong presence, sharp features, and deep gray eyes. As he approached, Skylar recognized him immediately.
"I will," said Damian Silverman, with a faint smile. "I hope you learn quickly, Skylar—because we have a lot of work ahead of us."
Skylar nodded. She knew the road wouldn't be easy—but she was ready.
Her new life had just begun.