The Oyxia Chronicles: Shadow of Lorian

Just like mine, Leonard thought. Beautiful – and riding in a carriage. She must be from a noble family.

Beside her sat a man in a cloak very much like Valkerian’s.

Another mage, probably. Escorting his student to the castle. Meanwhile, we still have a good half hour to walk, Leonard thought with a twinge of jealousy.

“Everyone reaches the Castle by their own path,” Valkerian remarked, as if reading his thoughts. “We’ll be there soon enough.”

Talking made the time slip by unnoticed, and before long the castle gates loomed before them.

The gates towered above them – colossal, menacing, studded with symbols glowing red-hot.

Armored guards stood at the entrance, their faces hidden behind smooth helmets. Only their eyes were visible: cold, assessing.

I really don’t like this, Leonard thought.

One of the guards stepped forward, blocking their way. “Names and purpose?” His voice was level, but a quiet threat lurked beneath it.

“Valkerian, Seeker of Flame,” Valkerian replied calmly. “And this is Leonard of Tirgold. He has come to study in Lorian.”

The guard turned his gaze on Leonard, as if weighing him from the inside out. Then he nodded and glanced at his partner.

“Wait. You’ll be summoned.”

After a few moments, the gates opened with a harsh scrape, and a mage stepped outside – dark cloak, crimson patterns along the fabric. His face was hidden beneath a hood, but his voice was sharp and cold:

“You are Leonard of Tirgold? Valkerian has spoken of you. Show that you are worthy of entering these walls.”

Leonard felt his heart clench. His palms were damp, but he refused to let fear take hold. He knew the moment had come.

The mage extended his hand, and a sphere of fire flared to life in his palm. He lifted it into the air, and it hung there, pulsing with heat.

“Extinguish it,” the mage ordered calmly. “If you can.”

Leonard stared at the blazing sphere, feeling something tighten inside him. He raised his hand, focusing on the fire. The sphere trembled, but did not go out.

Oh no. What if I fail? I can’t fail now! Leonard thought in a panic.

Suddenly fear crashed over him, and his magic, following instinct rather than will, slipped out of control. Instead of snuffing out the flame, he fed it. The fire exploded, surging upward into a towering column of flame that lit up the entire space before the gates.

The mage jerked back, eyes widening. “What was that…?” There was both surprise and a shade of fear in his voice.

The guards grabbed for their weapons on reflex, but Valkerian raised a hand, stopping them.

“He hasn’t learned to control his power yet. But the potential is obvious,” he said, his voice still steady.

Leonard stood there, breathing hard. Inside him everything churned – fear, relief, shock. He had no idea what this would mean for him. Memories surfaced – his mother’s voice: “You’re special, Leonard. Don’t be afraid of your power.”

But didn’t “special” also mean dangerous?

The mage in the cloak turned to the guards and gave a slow nod. “He’ll enter. But he will be watched.”

Leonard heard this and felt his heart skip a beat. He understood that he had passed the first test – but the words left a cold weight in his chest.

What does “will be watched” mean? He didn’t want to be a prisoner of his own magic. But he had no choice.

Leonard stopped before the massive gates, carved with swirling flames. The stone doors were so enormous they seemed immovable – yet a deep grinding echoed out, and they began to part. Heat rolled out from within, wrapping around him like invisible fire. It clung to him, welcoming and testing all at once. For the first time, he truly felt the power hidden behind the walls of Lorian Castle.

“I’ll be leaving you for a time – you’re not the only one who needs an escort to the Castle,” Valkerian said in farewell. “But I’ll be watching your progress. We will meet again.”

Leonard stepped forward.

The guards, clad in armor and crimson cloaks, watched him closely. Their faces remained unreadable, but their eyes showed the vigilance of those long used to danger. Leonard drew a deep breath and moved on. Sand, carried in from distant roads, crunched faintly beneath his boots. His heart beat faster, but he forced himself to keep his expression calm.

Now he was alone.

He clenched his fists, feeling tension coil through his body. He knew hard training awaited him, trials he could not yet imagine. But fear slowly gave way to resolve. He was ready. He had to prove his strength.

Lifting his head, he crossed the threshold.

The castle’s inner courtyard was vast, paved with sun-warmed stone. Along the edges stood columns bearing torches whose flames burned without visible fuel. The air carried the scent of ash and herbs – a strange combination, at once unusual and oddly soothing.

Leonard looked around and noticed something – a tall statue of a hooded mage holding a sphere of fire in his hands. A faint glow pulsed around it, as if the stone itself breathed with heat. Leonard wondered if it was merely a sculpture or something more.

While he pondered, a man in red-and-gold robes approached. Something important was clearly beginning.

“Good day. You’re new here, yes? Come along – the Trial of Fire will begin soon,” the mage said.

Leonard nodded, not trusting his voice at first. The mage’s tone was even, but there was a firmness to it, as if every word had been chosen with care. With a gesture, he invited Leonard to follow. Leonard cast one last glance at the statue, then hurried after him.

They left the courtyard and climbed a broad staircase leading deeper into the castle. The farther they went, the stronger the heat grew, as though the very walls held the memory of millennia of flame. Leonard felt sweat bead on his forehead but refused to wipe it away – he had to look composed.

Soon they entered a vast hall whose vaults disappeared into shadow. Tall columns rose like tongues of fire, supporting the arched ceiling.

The hall was immense. A high domed ceiling was borne by massive columns carved with scenes from Lorian’s history: magical battles, the taming of dragons, the forging of the first great spells. Leonard let his gaze trace the patterns, understanding that they were more than mere ornament – they were fragments of an ancient legacy he was only beginning to touch.

At the center of the ceiling hung a magical chandelier – the blazing heart of the hall. Its tongues of fire danced in the air, casting warm light over the walls. The glow was soft and golden, like sunlight filtered through smoke. Leonard wondered whether it was truly just a light – or a bound fragment of the fire’s very essence.

Along the walls ran ancient runes carved into black stone. For now they were barely visible, but Leonard had no doubt: the moment someone invoked a spell, they would flare to life in fiery red, awakened by magic.

He looked down. The floor – smooth as cooled lava – reflected his silhouette. The volcanic glass seemed alive, golden veins smoldering in its depths, forming faint patterns. Sometimes they faded, only to reappear – as if whispering secrets.

At the far end of the hall, his gaze was drawn to a massive throne rising on a pedestal. Forged from melted metal and obsidian, black as night and streaked with copper fire, it commanded the space. Even from this distance, Leonard could feel warmth radiating from it – not simple heat, but contained power, restrained yet ready to flare at any moment.

But what truly held his attention was the gigantic ring of flame behind the throne. It burned eternally, shifting from sun-gold to deep carmine, embodying the essence of Lorian itself – destruction and creation, passion and grandeur.

Already, other newcomers were gathering in the hall, their faces mirroring his own emotions – anxiety, fear, anticipation. Among them Leonard spotted a girl with bright orange hair and a sharp, focused gaze. She, too, was studying the hall, eyes moving attentively over every detail.

Her hair burns like sunset… the girl from the carriage. But her eyes are cold now, Leonard thought.

He drew a deep breath. The Trial of Fire was beginning.

Silence fell over the hall. The flame of the magical chandelier flickered, as if sensing the approach of something great. The air seemed to grow denser, richer, as though the hall itself was holding its breath.

On the dais before the flaming ring, a tall figure appeared.

He stepped forward – majestic, like fire bound into human form. His cloak, woven from fabric that shimmered like heated metal, gleamed in the light. His eyes were twin embers of amber, burning with inner flame, holding age-old wisdom and power. His face was stern but not cruel – the face of a ruler bearing the weight of authority.

The mage raised his hand, and the flames around them surged higher at his command, flooding the hall with golden light. His voice rang out like thunder in summer heat – deep and commanding:

“Welcome, newcomers. Those who have stepped for the first time within the walls of the Castle of Fire. You have all come here hoping to gain strength, to learn the secrets of flame, to enter a world of magic that does not forgive weakness. My name is Lord Helion, and I am the master of this castle.”

He slowly let his gaze pass over the gathered students.

“Fire is not just an element. It is the living breath of the world – its pulse, its fury, and its warmth. It can destroy and create, burn to ash and grant light. You will have to learn to understand it, to command and direct it – but above all, to respect it.”

Leonard felt the Lord’s words reach into the very core of him, stirring something deep in his chest.

“The Trial of Fire is not merely a test of your power,” Helion continued. “It will show what your spirit is worth. Those who fear fire, who cannot accept its nature, are not worthy of this strength. There are no accidental people here. Each of you has been called by fate itself – and each of you will either leave this place stronger, or not leave it at all.”

Once more, the hall fell silent – even the fire seemed to listen.

“Face the trial with honor and dignity,” Lord Helion said, inclining his head slightly. “Prove that the flame in your hearts is not a spark that will fade, but a fire capable of burning forever.”

He lowered his hand, and the flames in the lamps settled again. The silence in the hall felt almost deafening.

“Let us begin.”

Chapter Six. Elissa and Leonard – The Trial

The Great Hall of the Castle of Fire was spacious, but not endless. Tall columns adorned with flame patterns supported the vaulted ceiling, from which a soft reddish glow of magical crystals streamed down. The air was warm, saturated with magic.

At the center of the hall turned the Circle of Fire Control – a magical spiral composed of four testing sectors. Here, under the watchful eyes of mentors and students, the future mages were to undergo their first serious trial. Among them stood Elissa Fayrell and Leonard of Tirgold.

They did not know each other yet – but today their paths would cross.

“Next: Elissa Fayrell,” the mentor’s voice rang out.

Leonard, standing among the other students, raised his head. Until then he had paid little attention to the others – his thoughts were fixed on his own trial. But when he saw the girl step forward, his gaze lingered.

She entered the Sector of Calm.

The fire flared softly, swaying slowly around her like a drowsy beast. But… something was wrong. Leonard had seen other students find their balance in this sector – their breathing slowed, their movements became smooth. Elissa, however, tensed. Her gaze darted, her fingers curled into fists.

She can’t relax.

The flames around her suddenly wavered, mirroring her inner anxiety. The fire began to rise higher, the space around her seemed to tighten, the pressure growing.

“Easy, Elissa,” Leonard whispered under his breath.

She clenched her teeth. How was she supposed to be calm when magic raged all around her? She could feel the fire inside herself – boiling, alive, craving motion. How could she just stand still?

Suddenly, the fire shot upward – she was losing control.

But at the last moment Elissa exhaled sharply, closed her eyes and… stepped forward. Not slowly and evenly, but with a natural, confident movement. Her breathing did not become perfectly steady – but she accepted that. She couldn’t be motionless. But she could keep walking.

And then the fire around her settled.

She passed.

Sector of Passion

As soon as Elissa entered this sector, the fire awakened. It surged up around her, tongues of flame flaring and swirling as if inviting her into a dance.

She paused for a moment… and smiled.

Here it was easier. She felt this fire. She understood it. It was not an enemy, not just a trial – it was alive, just like her own magic.

Elissa took a step, and the fire moved with her. She did not try to dominate it – she moved with it, in the same rhythm.

Leonard noticed the spark in her eyes, the faint smile at the corner of her lips.

There it is. Here she’s at home.

The fire flared one last time, as if in delight, then scattered and cleared the way for her.

She completed the trial.

Leonard gave the slightest nod. Interesting…

Sector of Illusions

The moment Elissa stepped forward, the world around her changed.

The fire vanished, giving way to shadows. They thickened and twisted, curling around her on all sides. Before her, her hometown appeared – Pyrenholm.

The houses burst into flame, as if answering her very breath. People ran, screaming. Heat slammed into her face; streets, rooftops, trees – all burned. She heard familiar voices filled with terror, heard children crying.

“No…” her voice shook. “This… isn’t real.”

But the shadows tightened, rising upward in dense tongues of fire. Before her eyes, the city was consumed. And then she saw them.

Her parents.

They stood in the distance, surrounded by flames, unmoving. Her father looked straight at her. He did not call, did not shout. He only watched.

“No!” Elissa took a step forward, but the fire struck back, hurling her away. “It’s not me! I didn’t—”

She squeezed her eyes shut, clutching at her temples, but the sounds would not fade. The stench of smoke, the crackle of burning roofs, desperate voices. She was losing control.

This isn’t real. It’s an illusion. It’s a trial.

Her breathing grew ragged. Every part of her screamed to fight, to rush in, to save them, to act.

But… this was not a place for fighting.

The trial was not about destroying the shadows. Not about winning the battle.

It was about acceptance.

She stood amidst the roaring fire and forced herself to draw a breath.

Fire was part of her. Her strength. Her fate.

“I didn’t burn Pyrenholm,” she whispered. “I am not the fire. I am Elissa.”

She straightened. Looked ahead. Steady. Accepted.

The shadows crackled, flickered, and then broke apart, scattering like ash on the wind.

She took the final step. The illusions vanished.

Light returned.

The mentor nodded. “You have succeeded.”

Elissa answered with a silent nod. The flames of her past still reflected in her eyes, but now… they no longer owned her. They were a part of her – but not who she was.

Sector of Control

The moment Elissa stepped into the last sector, the fire changed. It no longer circled her playfully or danced; it lunged to cut her off. Bursts of flame shot up in front of her, forming walls in her path, and further ahead rings of molten fire took shape – passage was possible only if she found the right path through them.

She tensed.

Control.

She knew she couldn’t just merge with the fire here as before. She had to lead it, not follow.

Elissa threw up her hand, directing her power – and one of the tongues of flame obediently scattered.

It’s working!

She moved on, confident and precise, slipping past the rising bursts of fire. Sometimes she redirected them with a motion of her hand, sometimes she simply sensed the right moment to pass.

The fire no longer stood against her as a barrier. It moved with her.

When the trial ended, the mentor studied her carefully and nodded.

“Well done, Elissa. But remember – sometimes fire demands not only mind, but passion.”

She pressed her lips together, but said nothing, and walked back to the others.

Leonard watched her go. She’s going to be a powerful mage.

Leonard’s Trial

“Now: Leonard of Tirgold.”

Elissa looked at him for the first time. Until now he had been just another student in the crowd. But as he stepped into the circle, she noticed his easy, unhurried movements.

Sector of Calm

Leonard entered the circle with a kind of quiet certainty, as if this were exactly where he belonged. Elissa watched him move through the Sector of Calm without hesitation. He didn’t second-guess himself; his body seemed to move on its own, while his mind remained clear and focused.

Doesn’t look like he’s nervous at all.

His confidence showed not only in his stride. Leonard might have lacked subtle spellwork yet, but his strength lay elsewhere – in his ability to remain focused and coolheaded, no matter the situation.

He passed the Sector of Calm without a single misstep. Without slowing, he stepped forward into the next.

Sector of Passion

Now came the part Leonard found hardest – his emotions. The Sector of Passion was the trial where he had to confront not only external fire, but the flames within.

When he entered the sector, a storm of fire whirled up around him – and in the center of that storm an image appeared: his little sister. She stood there clutching a toy in her hands, her face full of fear.

“You left,” she said. “You’re not coming back. We’ll never see each other again.”

The words struck straight at his heart. Leonard felt his emotional tension spike. The memory pushed deep into his soul, stirring a fierce struggle. He’d always been so focused on magic itself that he had never dared to fully admit the weight of his feelings. Now, in this moment, those feelings flared outward through his magic – the fire around him began to jerk and flicker as he started to lose control.

He gritted his teeth. One hand pressed against his head, he tried to steady himself, but the emotions held him back. This was the hardest trial yet. His desire to retreat from fear, from the pain of loss, kept him from fully controlling the flame.

Elissa stood not far away, watching. She could interfere – but she knew this was something he had to do himself.

Leonard closed his eyes one last time and focused on his breathing. He felt the fire inside him. It wasn’t just flame. It was his passion. His strength. He had to accept that emotion, not flee from it.

With effort, he exhaled and let go of his pain – and the fire around him began to calm.

He passed the Trial of Passion, but not without an inner scar. He realized that while his mind and logic had carried him far, his feelings were part of his power too. Now he had to learn to master them as well.

Sector of Illusions

And here the real trouble began.

When the flames opened the next vision, he saw his sister again. She was alone, frightened, holding the very toy he had taken with him. Once more she spoke:

“Leonard… don’t go.”

Leonard froze. The inner conflict was brutal. He knew he had to recognize this as an illusion – but his heart was already reaching for her. He had always felt responsible for his sister, and here that feeling intensified until it became almost unbearable.

The question pulsed inside him: What if this isn’t an illusion?

This… can’t be real. But what if it is?

He felt the fire’s heat, heard its crackling, and found himself unable to move.

Then he heard Elissa’s voice. She was beside him.

“It’s an illusion, village boy.”

Leonard spun around and saw her calm face. Elissa watched him with the faintest hint of reproach.

“So, are you really going to let it trick you?”

“You’re giving me hints now?” he muttered.

“I just don’t want to have to drag you out of here later.”

Leonard flinched. The illusion was so convincing that even she didn’t want to resist it. But her words jolted his mind awake. He forced himself to remember why he was here – and stepped forward, letting go of his doubt.

The illusion dissolved.

Elissa gave a small nod, and he felt that something inside him had shifted. Perhaps this struggle with the illusion truly had revealed something more.

Sector of Control

As they approached the final trial, Leonard felt the fire around him shift and take form. Here, in the Sector of Control, his magic fell fully in line with his thoughts. The flames flowed around him, listening, responding to his every gesture. He didn’t rush. He managed the situation carefully – his magic like a precise, well-calculated formula.

With a faint smile, he passed through the sector.

Elissa remarked:

“All you really need is a little more confidence in yourself – not just to control the fire, but your emotions too.”

Leonard shook his head, but her words struck him as a challenge. He was a master of analysis, but he all too often forgot that control over fire required control over himself.

The mentor watched as Leonard emerged from the trials, a little weary, but with a new look in his eyes.

“You have a strong connection with fire, and you know how to command it. But don’t forget – magic does not always obey logic. Sometimes, to be a powerful mage, you must be willing to accept your emotions and let them lead you.”

Fire does not forgive weakness. But it remembers those who dare to burn.

Leonard nodded. He understood now that the trial had exposed his weaknesses – but it had also opened a new path toward self-knowledge. Elissa, watching him, found herself thinking:

He’s starting to look less like someone who merely controls fire… and more like someone who could become part of it.

In that moment, something subtle formed between them – not rivalry, but an understanding that one day they would meet again, perhaps no longer as students, but as mages capable of changing this world.

Chapter Seven. The Initiation

The Great Hall of Lorian was once again filled with students, but this time they stood not before the trial circle, but before the dais where the senior mages – the heads of the Five Schools of Fire – had gathered. The atmosphere in the hall was solemn, laced with a soft murmur of whispers.

The trials were over, but something no less important lay ahead – the choosing of a path.

A mentor in scarlet robes stepped forward and called for silence with a single gesture. In his hands burned a small bowl of fire, its light seeming to pulse in rhythm with the hall’s breathing.

“Today you have completed the first step on the path of understanding Fire,” he said. “You have touched its power. You have felt its nature. But Fire is not merely might. It is a path. It demands understanding, discipline, and above all – choice.”

He lifted the bowl higher, and the flame leapt up, bathing the gathered students in light.

“Each of you will become part of our brotherhood. Fire has now acknowledged you. Accept it – and let it lead you.”

The fire flared in the mentor’s hands and split into five small tongues of flame, each of which floated into the air. They were all different shades: crimson, golden, silver, deep red, and almost black.

“These flames represent five paths, five schools. You are not required to choose immediately. You will have time to understand where your heart calls you. You are not bound to a single discipline of magic – the greatest mages know and wield all of them. But remember: your path determines more than the magic you use. It shapes the very core of who you are.”

With those final words, he lowered his hands, and the little flames slowly dissolved into the air.

When the last student completed their trial, silence fell over the hall. Then, at its center, five figures appeared – the heads of the Five Schools of Fire. Their robes were adorned with the symbols of their schools, and around each of them burned a distinct flame, different in color and character.