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Rowan raises an eyebrow. "It says only one."

"It says one may reach the end." Cassian finishes the thought. "It doesn't say the others disappear."

A slow smile spreads across Rowan's face. "Oh. I like technicalities."

Nyra laughs softly. "Professor Aldren would be proud."

Rowan scratch the back of her neck. "Or disappointed."

We stand before the four doors. One hand each. The stone feels warm beneath my fingertips. The bracelets begin vibrating. A warning. Perhaps. Or encouragement. I no longer know.

"Ready?" I ask.

Three quiet answers. "Yes."

Then— "Let's confuse the Academy." Rowan. Of course.

"Now."

We push. All four doors open. Light floods the chamber. Warm. Golden. I close my eyes against it. When they adjust— The four doors have disappeared. We stand together inside one enormous circular hall. One room. One destination. Not four. Never four. The Trial never intended to separate us. Only to see whether we would separate ourselves.

A low chime echoes through the hall. The bracelets glow brilliantly. Words appear above the floor. ASSUMPTION IDENTIFIED. Another line follows. ASSOMPTION REJECTED. Then— PROCEED.

Rowan grins. "I knew being difficult would eventually become useful."

Cassian chuckles. "I don't think that's the lesson."

Rowan smiles now. "I'm choosing to interpret it generously."

The opposite side of the chamber opens. Morning light pours inside. Real sunlight. Fresh air. Birdsong. After hours inside enchanted darkness, the ordinary sounds feel almost overwhelming.

We step through together. The world changes instantly. Stone beneath our boots. The Eastern Courtyard. The Academy. Dawn. The blue flames surrounding the courtyard burn quietly.

Students continue emerging from different stone arches. Some alone. Some in pairs. One group of five. Others stumble out covered in mud, scratches or soaked to the knees. Not everyone has returned. The empty spaces are impossible to ignore.

Professors move efficiently among the arrivals, checking bracelets, treating injuries and recording observations. No applause. No celebration. The Trial is not over simply because we survived.

Professor Vale approaches first. Her expression reveals nothing. She extends one hand.

"Our bracelets."

We offer our wrists. She touches mine lightly. Silver light rises from the band. Lines of writing appear in the air. Only for her. Not for me. She reads silently. One eyebrow lifts. Then disappears again.

Interesting. No comment. She checks Nyra. Then Rowan. Then Cassian. Each receives the same unreadable expression. Finally— "You may rejoin the others."

That's it. Rowan looks offended. "We don't even get a 'well done'?"

Professor Vale looks at her. "If you require praise after every successful decision..." A pause. "Leadership will exhaust you."

Rowan sighs. "I walked into that."

"You often do."

We gather near one side of the courtyard. Dozens of first-years stand together now. Some smiling with exhausted relief. Others unusually quiet. Bren catches my eye from across the crowd. His wrist has been bandaged. He gives me a small nod. I return it. He passed. Good.

Nyra nudges my arm. "There." I follow her gaze.

The six Chief Wings Officers stand upon the raised platform overlooking the courtyard. Still. Professional. Watching every returning student. Caelen stands among them. Dark uniform. Silver wings gleaming across his chest. For the first time since arriving at Varethia he looks less like my brother. More like an officer. Our eyes meet briefly. He doesn't smile. He doesn't wave. He simply inclines his head once. Barely. The smallest acknowledgement. You made it. Something inside me settles.