Page 124 of Ashes of Aether

Water splashes across the ground. Blue light pours out.

I glance at the puddles, gasping for breath.

The crowd roars with applause.

I’ve vanquished my enemies. I’ve passed the second round of the Trial of Magic. Only one battle stands between me becoming a Mage of Nolderan.

“Congratulations, Reyna Ashbourne!” comes Archmage Gidston’s shout. “You have completed the second round. Please return to your seat until the third and final round begins.”

I do as she says and return to the audience. My injuries make it hard to walk, and I hobble over to where Eliya sits. She jumps to her feet and helps me back onto our stone bench.

“Are you all right?” she whispers as Archmage Gidston calls Lorea’s name. Magi teleport down to the arena and use their magic to smooth the ground, ready for her battle to begin.

“They’re just small wounds.” I hold out my hand and draw aether into my palm. “Conparios.”A vial of fluorescent green liquid appears. Even the sight of the potion makes my stomach turn, but I tear off the cork and drain every drop from the small glass bottle. The putrid slime slips down my throat. I gag, but don’t let myself cough up any.

With some luck, the healing potion will work long before the third round begins. I’ll have at least an hour, seeing as there are thirteen more adepts to complete the second round of the Trial of Magic.

“You only have one more round now!” Eliya exclaims, as if reading my thoughts. Her eyes gleam.

“I know,” I say, clenching the empty potion vial. “One more round to go.”

I pray I will pass it. Fate would be cruel to snatch away everything after I’ve come so close to achieving all I’ve ever wanted.

Lorea soon begins her trial. Magic collides as she battles the four elementals. And when she successfully completes the round, Archmage Gidston calls down the next adept.

By the time Eliya takes her turn, and the second round concludes, two adepts have failed. One girl was nearly immolated, and Archmage Gidston had to douse the flames to save her. Another was almost strangled by barbed thorns. Both required immediate medical attention.

Then the third and final round begins. Archmage Gidston calls me down to the arena. Not once do I look up at my father. I can’t bear to.

I train my gaze onto the steel gates, barely breathing as I wait for them to open.

This is it. My final reckoning.

Either I will defeat my opponent and become a Mage of Nolderan, or I will lose everything. This is my only chance. I cannot fail. Not when my future is at stake.

I’m so lost to my fear that when the gate finally rumbles open, I am delayed in noticing it.

Violet light surges out from the darkened entrance and whizzes across the arena. It comes to a halt beside me. The aether spirit swirls. Magic ripples through the air.

The surface shifts, forming a girl’s silhouette. It becomes so blinding that I’m forced to shield my eyes from its dazzling radiance.

The girl steps forth, and the light fades. Her features become clearer.

Then I’m staring back at myself. Her eyes are of the same shade of magenta as mine, and her long, dark hair has even the same sheen.

It should come as no shock. I’ve watched this final trial unfold countless times before. The last round is always facing an aether spirit. And the elemental always clones the adept.

Staring at it is uncanny. When I summon clones of myself, they are an extension of my will. This being is separate entirely, and yet it looks completely identical to myself. It is as though I’m staring into a very real mirror.

Before I can recover from my surprise, the fake me raises her hands and sends a blast of aether hurling forth. She requires no spell-words to control her magic. That’s the formidable advantage she has against me.

“Laxus!”

When the aether blast reaches me, I am barely fading into my teleportation spell.

I am immaterial enough that the attack continues past me. It collides with the barrier on the far side of the arena. I emerge behind my opponent, unscathed.

She spins to face me.