The Oyxia Chronicles: Shadow of Lorian

The first to step forward was a mage in heavy battle armor, broad-shouldered, his eyes glowing like embers. His voice was loud and sure.

“I am Dreim Kordan, head of the Flame of Battle. We do not hide behind words and books. Our fire is strong and direct – it shields us and burns our enemies to ash. We temper body, spirit, and magic, turning ourselves into living weapons. If you seek combat, if fire is strength to you, step onto my path.”

He raised his hand, and flames surged up around him, forming a burning suit of armor.

Next came a woman in an elegant black-and-crimson gown. Her movements were soft, but her gaze pierced straight into the soul.

“I am Leyris Virra, mistress of the Smoldering Embers. Fire is not only crude force. It warms, lures, awakens desire. We study the subtle edges of flame – its power to sway emotion, alter perception, slip unseen into hearts and minds. Whoever understands the hidden fire, understands the true nature of passion and power.”

She swept her hand through the air, and the hall filled with a sense of warmth, a strange stirring, an almost imperceptible pressure on consciousness.

After her, a tall man with long silver hair stepped forward. In his hand he held a small brazier in which a steady blue flame burned.

“I am Morian Falx, keeper of the Song of Flame. Fire is not only destruction – it is also creation. We forge enchanted blades, brew alchemical elixirs, weave fire into metal, glass, cloth. If you feel that fire is, above all, a tool of craft and making, not only of war, then come to us.”

He scattered a handful of metallic dust into the brazier, and it instantly fused into a small dagger, sparkling with magical energy.

The next to appear was a girl who looked almost young, yet her fiery golden eyes betrayed an ancient power. Around her floated tongues of flame that kept changing shape – turning into animals, then dissolving back into sparks.

“I am Arien Tark, mistress of the Living Flame. Fire can live, feel, exist. We give it form, call it into this world, turn it into an ally. If you want to speak to flame, to create fire spirits and gift fire with life – our school awaits you.”

She flicked her hand, and an enormous wolf of fire appeared before her, casting a quiet growl across the hall as it looked over the students.

Last came a mage in a black cloak whose edges smoldered like coal. He did not speak at once. Instead, he brushed his hand through the air, and the fire before him went out, leaving behind only bitter black smoke.

“Black Ash is not chosen,” he said at last. “We are those who look into the heart of fire and see its dark side. We know that flame does not only warm – it takes. When the time comes, the strongest among you will understand on their own whether they have the strength to walk this path.”

He turned and stepped back into the shadows, leaving behind only a fading trail of smoke.

When all the heads had finished speaking, the mentor surveyed the students.

“Choose your school. Remember – you are not chained to only one. Fire does not limit growth.”

The students glanced at one another, whispering. Some already knew where they would go, others hesitated. Elissa and Leonard stood among them, each lost in thought. They had not yet exchanged a single word – but something told them their paths would cross again…

The ceremony was over. But for the students, everything was only beginning.

When the trial ritual was fully concluded, silence settled over the hall. Only the magical flames continued to flicker softly in the hearths, filling the space with warm light. The young mages stood there, still feeling the lingering pulse of magic that had left its mark on their souls.

Then, as if answering that feeling, something else claimed their attention – a sudden sting.

On the wrists of Elissa and Leonard, a faint glow appeared. At first it was warm and almost unnoticeable, but gradually it intensified, turning into a slight burning sensation. The magic they had been granted now seemed to be branding its mark into their flesh. The pain was mild but distinct, like invisible needles piercing the skin and leaving a trace behind.

Elissa flinched and gripped her wrist, trying to understand what was happening. Leonard, though accustomed to fire, also felt unease. Instinctively, he pressed his hand to his chest. It burns…

But within moments the burning began to subside, then faded altogether, leaving behind a barely visible mark on their skin – a circular sign of fire, seeming almost alive, yet unchanged. Only its faint glow hinted that they were now bearers of the Fire’s magic.

At that moment Lord Helion appeared in the hall, his eyes grave. He stepped into the center, studying the new students’ reactions. Once he was certain the ritual had gone as intended and that the mark caused no further harm, he spoke. His voice was deep, filled with magic.

“From this moment on, you are mages of Fire,” he said, his words sounding both like a sentence and a blessing. “Each of you now bears this mark as a sign that the magic of Fire has become part of you. This symbol will remain with you to the end of your path. It is not ornament. It is a link – to the castle, and to its ancient power.”

His gaze swept over them, almost as a warning.

“You will be protected from many dangers – but remember that the responsibility for this flame rests on your shoulders. There is no washing yourself clean of what you have become. The magic of Fire does not forgive carelessness.”

Elissa and Leonard exchanged a look, understanding that this day had become a turning point in their lives. What once seemed unimaginable had now become reality. They were part of something far greater than “just students.”

Lord Helion glanced at their marks one last time, nodded, and turned away, disappearing into the shadows.

“Now your path of magic begins. And with this fire, you will go wherever it leads you,” his words echoed in their thoughts.

They remained standing in the hall, quietly turning over everything that had happened. Each of them now felt both the weight and the strength of Fire in their body. And yet, despite it all, both were filled with resolve to go on, knowing that the mark on their wrists was not only a sign of power, but a reminder that they now belonged to the Lorian brotherhood of Fire Mages.

When the initiation ceremony ended, the students began to drift away in small groups, excitedly discussing the trial and the training to come.

Elissa felt emotions still raging inside her. Her hands trembled slightly; her heart refused to slow. The trial was behind her, but its shadow still lingered in her mind, refusing to let go.

Beside her walked a boy who looked just as shaken. Tall, with dark, slightly tousled hair, he let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his face with his palm.

“You’re shaking too?” Elissa exhaled, casting him a quick glance.

“Still can’t believe it’s over,” he admitted, looking around. “At one point I was sure… that was it. That I wasn’t getting out.”

“So was I. But we made it,” she said, offering a small smile, as though trying to convince herself as much as him.

“Leonard,” the boy said, introducing himself.

“Elissa. I’m from Pyrenholm.”

“Tirgold,” he replied.

“A village?” Elissa raised her brows.

Leonard nodded, anticipating her question.

“Yeah. They never found mages in our parts… I didn’t know I could do any of this either.”

“But you’re here now. That means fate chose you,” she said thoughtfully.

“That I’m not so sure about,” Leonard muttered with a crooked smile that didn’t quite chase away his doubts.

“Hey, you two – newcomers!” a cheerful voice called.

They turned. A boy was walking toward them, bright as the sun. His movements were light, and there was unmistakable fire in his eyes.

“I’m Kaylen Emberhart! From the Valley of Ignia. And welcome!”

“You’re new too?” Elissa asked, surprised.

“Of course! But I passed my trial a week ago. So you’re not shaking as badly as I was back then, believe me!”

Leonard snorted softly. “Not sure about that.”

“All right, come on – tell me. How was it?”

Elissa and Leonard exchanged a look, momentarily slipping back into the nightmare of the trial.

“The fire…” Elissa murmured. “At one point it filled everything. I thought I was going to burn.”

“It felt alive,” Leonard added. “It moved, probed, tested.”

Kaylen nodded knowingly.

“That’s the Trial of Fire for you. It tests not just your power, but your soul. But you did great! Now the fun part starts – choosing a school.”

Elissa drew a deep breath. “Have you already chosen?”

“Of course! Song of Flame!”

He broke into a proud grin.

“Artifacts, enchantment, alchemy! Can you imagine? Creating swords that never dull, cloaks that shield from the cold…”

Elissa gave a small skeptical sound.

“You’re sure about that?”

“Absolutely!” Kaylen declared. “What about you?”

Elissa fell silent for a moment.

“I don’t know yet… I like the Smoldering Embers.”

“Interesting,” Kaylen said thoughtfully. “Magic of emotion and suggestion? Dangerous path.”

Elissa nodded.

“But it feels like what I need. I want to learn to control not only fire, but what hides inside people.”

Leonard smiled faintly.

“And I’m leaning toward the Song of Flame too… I like creating fire, weaving spells. Not just using it as a tool, but treating it as something living, something you can communicate with, interact with. That sounds much more fascinating than just working with artifacts.”

Kaylen studied him with new interest.

“So you want to be a master of fire itself, not just a master of objects. I get that. Good choice.”

Elissa smiled, looking at them both.

“We have all the time in the world to decide.”

“And for now,” Kaylen spread his arms wide, “let’s just enjoy this moment! We’re part of something great now!”

Leonard and Elissa exchanged a glance.

Today they had not only survived the trial. They had found friends.

Chapter 8. The Chambers of the Castle of Fire

Elissa and Leonard, still feeling a slight dizziness after the recently performed initiation ritual, were walking along the grand yet dim corridors of the Castle of Fire.

Their guide, an experienced Fire mage, continued politely leading Elissa and Leonard through the dark, majestic hallways of the castle. His footsteps echoed through the empty halls, and fiery runes carved into the stone walls glowed softly, lighting their way. When he turned to make sure the students were not falling behind, his gaze was firm yet benevolent. He was someone who could become their mentor, but for now he was only telling them what awaited them in this new world.

“Here in Lorian,” he began, “students and mentors live as one big family. Fire magic does not divide; it unites. We are all one element, and our power must serve the common good.”

Elissa glanced at his face with admiration, the light of the flame reflected in his features. She felt how the magic of this place not only filled the walls, but seeped into her very soul.

“It’s like in our home settlement… everyone helps each other,” she couldn’t help but say.

The guide gave a barely noticeable smile and nodded.

“Exactly. But here the power of magic binds us together not only in helping each other, but in life itself. We serve this element, and it becomes part of us, just as we become an inseparable part of it. You’ll feel it when you begin to practice magic.”

Leonard, walking a little behind, tensed slightly when he heard these words. It was hard for him to imagine how some element could unite people. The thought that he would now become part of something far greater than himself still didn’t fit in his head.

“Do we all study the same program?” he asked, stepping uncertainly on the cold stone floor.

The guide turned, and, sensing his anxiety, answered with a smile:

“Everyone starts with the basics, even those who come here with great ambitions. But each path will be your own. Some may master the power of fire more quickly, others more slowly. What matters is that you don’t lose faith in yourselves.

There are no failures in Lorian. Here, everyone has their own road to great power.”

Elissa brightened at these words. Hope flared in her eyes.

“So everyone has a chance to become a true Fire mage?” she asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

The guide nodded, and his gaze grew more distant, as if he had recalled something important he could have shared.

“Yes. But you must remember that Lorian is not just a place of study. It is a place of transformation. The castle’s history is full of passions, destruction, wars. The castle was built by the great mage Lorian seven thousand years ago, when a magical source was discovered here, at the top of the volcano. This source grants the power of Fire, thanks to which our castle still exists and flourishes.”

Leonard listened with interest, while Elissa fell into thought.

“The great mage Lorian…” she repeated pensively. “Is that somehow tied to Fire magic?”

“Yes,” the guide replied. “His teaching became the foundation for all Fire magic. In his time the castle was the symbol of that power, and many sought the source to gain control over this mighty energy. However, Fire magic does not tolerate control. It demands freedom and endless change.”

He fell silent, and for a moment their footsteps became the only sound in the dark corridor.

“But the castle was not always like this,” the guide continued. “Since the day it was built, Lorian has been through much. Wars, destruction, rebirth. We rebuilt it and restored it, but sometimes even its walls were brought down by the flames of battle.”

Elissa sighed, imagining how this majestic castle could have fallen in the fires of war.

“And now the castle is safe?” she asked, unable to hide her anxiety.

The guide looked at her and, seeing her worry, answered confidently:

“Now it appears a time of peace has come. Wars between the castles almost never flare up. Of course, no one can predict what will happen in a hundred years, or even in a few decades, but at this moment we live in relative peace. Mages live long, and for us wars are part of history—something to be learned and understood.

However, in your lifetime there will be enough wars.”

Leonard, feeling his anxiety gradually easing, turned to the guide again:

“And who rules the castle now?” he asked, trying to learn more about the one who would be their leader in the coming years.

The guide straightened with pride.

“The head of the castle is Lord Helion. He is wise and strong, and under his rule Castle Lorian has become even more powerful. I am certain you have nothing to fear for your safety while he leads us.”

Elissa and Leonard exchanged glances. Hearing Lord Helion’s name, they felt slightly calmer. For a moment they even forgot their doubts, carried away by the grandeur of the castle and the might of Fire magic, which seemed to fill everything around them.

“We really will be safe now,” Elissa said, smiling at Leonard. “That’s good news.”

The guide nodded and, slowing his pace a little, waited for them to digest the information before continuing forward.

“In truth,” he added quietly, “with Lord Helion the castle has become not only a place of power, but a symbol of order. He sincerely believes that the future of Fire magic lies in the hands of young mages like you.”

Elissa, not taking her eyes off the rune patterns on the walls, felt everything around her drawing her deeper into this ancient castle. Every line, every rune carved into the stone seemed alive, pulsing as a part of the castle itself. Here in Lorian, magic was not just the environment in which the students existed – it was its very essence. Elissa felt it enveloping her; with every step, the reality she knew, familiar and understandable, began to dissolve, giving way to something greater, deeper, utterly unusual. This place was not meant for ordinary people.

It had been created by mages, and the magic of its walls seemed to coil around her, filling everything with a special energy.

They continued on through a vast hall where light from magical flames brightly illuminated the stone columns and ceiling. The fire in the rune lanterns reached upward like something alive, burning with a force only a true mage could hold.

Elissa watched in awe as the flickering light played on the walls and reflected off the polished stone.

There is so much Power here. No wonder the castle was built exactly in this place – it would be impossible to keep so many lanterns and magical lights burning otherwise, she thought with admiration. A few strands of her hair fluttered in a passing draft.

The halls were divided by long, narrow passageways, and each corridor seemed completely unique. Some halls blazed with fire, lighting the space so brightly one could discern every corner, every ornament. In other halls the flame burned dimmer, casting barely any light, and there reigned a silence that felt like a cold seeping right into the bones.

One of them let out an exclamation when they passed another corridor that suddenly began to shimmer, as if the magic itself here was wavering, becoming a little brighter and then dimmer. Elissa stopped, feeling how this instability in the magic truly hooked her.

“Why are these corridors flickering?” she asked, turning to the mage walking beside them.

The mage hesitated slightly, glanced at the walls where the magic really did pulse unevenly, and answered with a thoughtful note:

“We don’t know for sure,” he said. “Lately such disruptions in magic have been happening more often. It’s connected to changes in the source of magic. It has long been in an unstable state, and sometimes such fluctuations occur. But there is no need to worry. I don’t think it’s anything serious.”

Elissa wanted to ask something else, but the mage went on, as if trying partly to calm her:

“This happens when something in the castle changes, or when there are minor malfunctions in the magical equipment. They aren’t dangerous, but if it continues, we’ll of course keep an eye on it.”

Leonard, walking behind, studied the castle walls closely. Here, along their path, he could see not only runes, but also frescoes painted by ancient masters. Some of them were in excellent condition: bright colors and elegant details had survived even after thousands of years. Others were badly damaged, as if the magic that had once preserved them was fading, and time was taking the last traces of these artworks.

Someone once painted all this so carefully, Leonard noted to himself.

“These frescoes,” the mage said proudly, “are restored by mages and craftsmen. They are part of our history. Every element of the castle is tied to magic and to the people who have lived here. Some frescoes are very old, and it’s difficult to preserve them in their original form, but we work constantly on restoration. The ones that remain in good condition impress everyone who comes here.”

Elissa stopped, touching one of the frescoes, feeling in it not only magic, but also some ancient memories. The image on the wall was indistinct, but in its distorted outlines she sensed the strength and wisdom of centuries.

“Whom do these frescoes depict?” she asked, without taking her hand from the wall.

“These are images of the great Fire mages,” the mage replied. “They show moments from the castle’s history. For example, here is the great mage Lorian, the founder of the castle. Since his time, his wisdom has been passed down from generation to generation.”

As they moved on, Kaylen, who was walking near Elissa and Leonard, suddenly slowed his pace and looked at them intently.

“Listen,” he said, tilting his head. “They… radiate magic.”

Elissa and Leonard exchanged surprised glances, stunned that someone had noticed something unusual about them. They themselves couldn’t fathom how it could be visible – they had only just begun their training.

“Yes,” the mage confirmed, stopping and smiling. “They carry magic and protective spells within them… usually protective,” he added with a faint ironic smile. “With these spells, Fire mages shield themselves from external threats. Here in Lorian, magic is not only a weapon, but also a shield.”

For Elissa all of this was thrilling, yet wonderful. In that moment she felt that her place was here, in this world of fire and magic, where she could become someone significant – part of a great force. She looked at Leonard and noticed something different in his eyes – anxiety, doubt, as if he still couldn’t grasp what had happened or what awaited him.

Leonard walked beside Elissa, but his thoughts seemed far, far from this majestic castle, its corridors, and the magic that increasingly filled the air around them. He heard every word of the guide and felt how those words sank into his mind, but they left neither warmth nor joy in him. Everything the mage said sounded as if it were meant for someone else, not for him.

The world of magic was so vast and alien that he felt small and lonely within these walls, filled with power and knowledge he could barely comprehend. Every word, every step of the guide seemed part of a reality where he did not belong.

He was a young man from a small village, and until now all he had known about magic came from the stories of old men by the fire, echoes of legends and tales that seemed distant and unreachable.

Now a world was opening before him where magic was not something mystical, but everyday – a part of life.

But in this world there seemed to be no place for simple people like him. He wasn’t ready, not strong enough to stand as an equal to those who were born into this world of magic, who had lived amidst its currents from the very beginning.

Fear rolled over him in waves, and with every step he took down the castle corridors, that fear became more real.

What if I can’t master this power? What if I never become like them? Leonard worried.

His gaze slid along the walls covered with fiery runes, but his thoughts wouldn’t let him go. Fear for the future, self-doubt – all of it gripped his mind, and he began to think of his family.

Of his native village, of how his mother and father might still be sitting by the home hearth, waiting for his return.

Of his sister, little Lilian, whom he had always promised to come back to once he became strong. Mira, as he called her, was so bright and carefree, and he, as the older brother, had always considered it his duty to protect her.

And now, standing on the threshold of a new world, he thought of her again. He dreamed how one day he would return home – but no longer as just a village boy, but as a mage, possessing power, able to protect himself and those he loved.

He felt a warm spark of hope burning in his chest, and that spark grew with every step, with each passing moment as he sank deeper into thoughts of magic. In his mind, images began to form – images of the spells he would be able to cast, of how he would wield the Fire element, using its power to help others. Threads of magic would lie in his hands, as alive and restless as fire itself.

He was not sure exactly how it would happen, but this was his new and important path in life. He could sense that road opening before him, and that gave him the strength to move on.

He would study magic, become stronger, and one day, perhaps no longer as a village boy but as a mage, he would return home. Return to show his family that he hadn’t just run away to some castle, but had gone to seek his destiny – to become who he had always dreamed of being: strong and protective.

In his mind arose images of spells he might create – spells of protection, spells to help others. Leonard didn’t know how, but he believed that everything was possible. And that would be his goal: to use magic for good.

“Are we… here forever?” he asked, unable to bear the silence any longer and, despite all his worries, trying to hide the anxiety in his voice.

Elissa turned to him, trying to find at least a hint of the confidence she herself felt in his eyes. But she only gave him a gentle smile, as if trying to support him.

“We’re here to study,” she replied, not entirely sure of her own answer.

The guide, paying no attention to their conversation, continued leading them through the endless corridors until they reached massive doors adorned with intricate fiery runes. The castle seemed to greet them with its ancient walls, which held the knowledge of many generations of Fire mages. Here, the fabric of time itself felt almost tangible.