Eleven
Fog clung to the southern terraces and sank into Thaelyn’s collar as the cadets filed into the Stonegrounds. Terraces fell away in rough rings. Columns leaned like old soldiers. Moss slicked the steps. The earth felt awake under her boots, listening.
“The Earth Trial is strength,” Commander Dareth called out, his voice slicing through the haze like a blade. “Strength not just of body, but of bond. Earth is stable. Earth is powerful. Fail to anchor yourself, and it will crush you. Trust the land beneath your feet, and it may lift you.”
Professor Aeric Stark stood behind him. His voice was a low growl, like thunder rumbling through stone. “You will enter the basin, claim a rune-marked stone, and listen. The earth will choose you, or it will not.”
Thaelyn exhaled slowly, eyes sweeping over the arena. It was wild and foreboding, yet beautiful in its severity. Moss clung to the weathered stones, small flowers bloomed defiantly in cracks, and thick foliage crept down from the rim like a tangled secret. The fog made everything softer, but no less dangerous.
Cadets descended in silence, their boot steps muffled. Thaelyn's squad broke apart to claim their stones: Feyra, Vaeryn, Rhys, Orion, and Iri, all faces taut with anticipation, shoulders drawn with quiet nerves.
Thorne stood further up on the slope, arms crossed, flanked byhis usual circle, Brynnek, Garric, Rory, and Darian. His eyes scanned the field below as each cadet readied themselves.
“I’d say the rocks already look bored,” Garric muttered, kicking a small pebble.
Brynnek snorted. “Maybe they’re just waiting for one of you to fall on your ass.”
Darian, eyes fixed on Thaelyn as she surveyed the valley, gave a half-smile. “You fall, I laugh. She falls, I scorch the ground.”
“Romantic,” Brynnek said dryly.
“Always,” Darian corrected.
Thaelyn stepped onto a stone marked in spiraling runes. The granite beneath her feet was cold. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, grounding herself, willing the hum of something, anything, to rise from below.
A sudden shout broke her focus.
To her left, Feyra frowned in frustration, the earth beneath her still and unresponsive. She stepped back, jaw clenched.
Rhys followed next. He bowed his head, fists at his sides. For a heartbeat, his stone trembled. Then stilled. He exhaled in disappointment, stepping off.
Then came Orion. He stepped forward with a calm steadiness that matched the land itself. His stance was wide, and his arms open. The air shifted. Pebbles lifted. A ripple spread outward from his stone, and small rocks began to orbit him.
“Orion Tallen,” Professor Stark intoned, eyes gleaming faintly. “Earth answers.” Orion nodded once, then stepped back, face unreadable but proud. Then silence.
All eyes turned to Vaeryn Malet. She stood motionless, hands at her sides, her pale blond hair stirring faintly in the morning wind. Her eyes were half-closed, not in concentration. She was listening. The earth heard her. The runes beneath her feet flared with green-gold light. Pebbles lifted gently at her feet. Gasps echoed.
Brynnek gave a low whistle. “That’s more than a stir.”
“Earth knows her,” Rory said quietly.
“She’s always had that wild calm,” Garric added. “Not surprised.”
“Careful, Garric, someone might think you’re interested in her calming you,” laughed Darian.
Professor Stark stepped forward. “Vaeryn Malet,” he said reverently. “Earth not only answers you, but it also awakens. You have been given the gift of life within stone. Few ever are.” Vaeryn opened her eyes. A smile tugged at her lips.
Thaelyn’s name was called. Her pulse jumped as she stepped forward again. She pressed her feet firmly against the granite, heart steady, and her breath sharp. She reached deep. Please.A tremor happened, and she thought she heard a whisper. Then nothing. The stone remained still beneath her. She waited longer than she should have. Her pride burned, but she stepped back slowly. Earth had not chosen her.
Brynnek exhaled slowly. “She’s trying too hard.”
“She’s trying to find something that’s not there,” Rory added.
“Or not ready yet,” Darian said, watching her with furrowed brows.
By noon, the mist had burned to a gray glare. The chosen were led to a living arch of vine and stone, breathing cool green. The others watched from the path.
“This one isn’t domination,” Commander Dareth said. “Enter proud, and it will shut. Enter listening, and you might come back with more than scratches.”
