The Trial of a False Element
The Entrance Training Grounds of Ignis Cor stretched beyond sight, a sprawling plaza carved from pale stone, sun-drenched and gleaming. Hundreds of portals dotted the expanse, each one pulsing with a distinct aura that seemed to hum with power. From the azure shimmer of the Water Trials to the emerald gusts of the Wind Corridors, the air vibrated with the energy of every element in existence. The scent of sweat, fresh-baked bread from nearby stalls, and faint traces of mana mingled, creating an intoxicating mix that seemed to heighten every heartbeat.
Hundreds of applicants lined the pathways between the portals. They were a cacophony of nerves and confidence, elemental sparks crackling above their heads. A Lightning user zipped ahead of the crowd, leaving a faint blue streak in his wake. A Wind user's hair whipped around as he casually floated above the ground. A Water user's skin shimmered with droplets that hung suspended in the air, suspended by sheer force of mana. Each one radiated the pride and ambition of youth, unaware of the centuries that awaited those who truly mastered their power.
Valtherion walked among them, quiet, his black hair streaked with ember catching the sunlight faintly. He closed his eyes and drew in a slow, controlled breath. Every trace of his aura—the void-white Mega Fire that could consume mountains—retreated, compressed into nothingness. No warmth radiated from his body. No pressure twisted the air around him. Not a whisper of white flame escaped. He was small. Fragile. Ordinary. Perfect.
No one can suspect me, he thought, his mind calm, yet every sense sharp. I am just another applicant… another boy chasing a trial.
His footsteps were soft on the stone, careful not to disturb the crowd. As he approached the portal marked The Mirror's Labyrinth, a faint purple glow leaked from its edges, casting an ethereal light over the plaza. A subtle hum radiated from the portal, like distant whispers of centuries of failure, fear, and despair.
Valtherion lingered for a heartbeat, letting his gaze sweep across the plaza. He observed the other applicants—some brimming with confidence, others trembling with nerves—and felt the faintest flicker of amusement. They don't know what's coming. They have no idea what a real trial is.
The Requirement
The instructor said sharply, "Choose the trial that tests the weakness of your element."
Lightning users had already darted toward portals filled with bouncing rubber energy, the Elastic Arenas designed to stretch, snap, and strain their reflexes. Wind users stepped into zones thick with jagged boulders and stone giants, forced to navigate terrain that mocked their speed and control. Water users braced themselves under endless thunder and rain, their strength tested against chaotic torrents of elemental pressure. Each trial was a crucible, designed to punish overconfidence, to expose flaws that ordinary training could never reveal.
When Valtherion reached the front of the line, the instructor—a stern man with a scar cutting across his brow—looked him over. His gaze lingered for a moment, sharp as flint, scanning the boy with the precision of a seasoned evaluator.
"Name?"
"Valtherion," he replied, voice calm, even.
"Element?" the instructor asked, eyes narrowing.
Valtherion paused, just a fraction of a second, weighing his words. He did not reveal the truth: Mega Fire, a force beyond mortal comprehension, honed for centuries of combat and survival. Instead, he spoke carefully, choosing a lie that would draw just enough attention to seem credible, yet deflect scrutiny.
"…Copy," he said.
The instructor's eyes flickered briefly, surprise caught in their depths, before narrowing again. "Copy," he said slowly, testing the syllables. "A rare choice. Then your weakness trial is clear—the Mirror's Labyrinth." He gestured toward the faint purple portal, the glow pulsating in quiet menace. "Good luck."
Valtherion smiled faintly, the faintest curve of lips touching his otherwise unreadable expression.
"I won't need it," he said softly, almost to himself, though the words carried an edge of certainty that made the instructor flinch.
Entering the Labyrinth
Stepping through the portal, the world shifted instantly. The sunlit plaza, the murmurs of applicants, the smell of fresh bread—everything vanished. In its place stretched a hall of infinite mirrors, each one twisting, bending, and refracting reality into impossible angles. The air was thick with a faint purple haze, tingling with latent mana. Every surface reflected him, sometimes as a frightened child, sometimes as a bloodied warrior, sometimes as an ancient man whose life had long ended.
A shiver ran through him—not of fear, but anticipation. He could feel the labyrinth testing him already. Every reflection was alive, every mirror a trap designed to ensnare mind and body alike.
From the nearest mirror, a figure emerged—a perfect copy of himself, eyes blazing with violent intent, aura crackling with raw mana. Condensed blades sprouted from its hands, and bursts of fire licked the edges of the corridor. The Reflection lunged at him with terrifying speed.
Valtherion rolled forward, narrowly avoiding the first strike. Fire brushed against his cloak, searing it slightly. Not enough to hurt, not enough to slow him, but enough to remind him of the realism of the trial. A faint, automated voice resonated in his mind:
[Warning: Minor Damage Detected]
[Self-Healing Passive: 15% per minute]
He felt the rhythm of the attacks, the ebb and flow of energy as the Reflection struck relentlessly. Each movement was calculated, precise. The Reflection mirrored every instinct, anticipating every step. Valtherion allowed it to overcommit, sidestepping as it crashed into a mirror. Glass shattered, spraying tiny shards into the air, and the Reflection staggered, frustration flickering across its features.
The corridors twisted further, elongating, bending impossibly. Now, he saw illusions of his parents' faces etched into the walls, screaming silently. Hydra heads, spectral dragons, wolves from Phorashia—they lunged at him from every angle. He ducked and rolled, fire flaring instinctively from his palms to shield him. Each strike left faint burns or scratches, minor injuries that he barely noticed.
[Minor Reflexive Injury Detected]
[Whiteflame Core Passive: Damage Reduction 99.9%]
Psychological Assault
The labyrinth sensed weakness. A younger version of himself, crying at the site of his parents' death, appeared from a mirror and reached toward him. Memories surged—centuries of loss, pain, and frustration crashing over him like a tidal wave. He staggered mentally but held his ground. No hesitation. No weakness.
The Reflection adjusted, becoming more aggressive. Mana spikes shot from mirrors, fiery whips lashed across the corridors, spectral chains wrapped around his limbs. He dodged, rolled, and leaped, taking minor hits but enduring.
[Warning: Injury Threshold Nearing]
[Whiteflame Core: Fully Active]
Finally, the Reflection launched a massive condensed mana orb, purple and glowing, humming with destructive potential. The orb expanded, filling the corridor, threatening to obliterate everything. Valtherion did not flinch. He let it form fully, watched as every reflection screamed and strained against the orb's energy.
[TRIAL END-PREDICTION: 1 SECOND REMAINING]
Then, with a calm that defied the chaos around him, he extended a single finger. A spark of void-white flame shot out—a flicker so small it barely registered. The orb exploded inwardly, folding onto itself, collapsing in a brilliant flash.
CRAAAAAACK!
The mirrors shattered, the reflections screamed as they disintegrated, and the corridors warped into nothingness. The Reflection froze mid-strike, eyes wide with disbelief, then vaporized into dust.
[TRIAL COMPLETE]
[Time Taken: 1.02 hours]
[Damage Sustained: Minor]
[Whiteflame Core Passive: Fully Active]
Emergence
Valtherion stepped back into the plaza, calm, his cloak lightly scorched, hair singed. The applicants froze mid-step, mouths agape.
"Already… done?" one whispered.
"One hour… how…?" another stammered.
"And he's… fine? That spark… it… it was unreal!"
The instructor approached, scarred hand trembling, and handed him the ember-steel badge. "This permits you to enter Ignis Cor as a licensed traveler."
Valtherion nodded politely, accepting it. Calm, ordinary, unreadable.
No one suspected the truth: the boy who passed their trial was a Mega Element monster in disguise, far beyond their comprehension, far beyond the limits of the labyrinth they revered.