Ashes Of The First Tyrant

The Bastion felt quieter now.

Not silent. Just... measured.

Training continued. Meals were shared. Classes were taught. But every glance, every breath, every blade drawn in the sparring yard held the same unspoken question:

Who would pass the Tyrant Spirit Exam?

---

An Announcement

The Head Instructor’s voice echoed through the assembly hall:

> "One week from today, the doors of the

Tyrant’s Gate will open. You will be tested

not just in skill, but in spirit. In will. In truth.

The exam has not known a victor in

twenty years. If none pass, the gate will

remain sealed until next year."

Murmurs rippled through the hall. Some hopeful. Most uncertain.

Thalen stood at the edge of the crowd, heart pounding. He glanced to his right.

Rheis was smirking, arms folded. Confident. Elya beside him, impassive as ever.

To his left, Maika avoided his gaze. Her hands were clenched at her sides.

They had all trained together for two years. And now, only a few would return changed if any returned at all.

Friends or Rivals

Later that evening, Thalen approached Maika in the library.

"Hey," he said gently.

She didn’t look up. "You think you’ll pass?"

"I don’t know. But I’ll try."

"Trying isn’t always enough."

There was something sharp in her voice. Not anger but fear.

She finally looked at him. "You know what happens if we fail?"

"They say you lose something... inside."

"They don’t say what."

The Rift

That night in the training hall, Rheis challenged Thalen to a duel.

No words. Just a blade thrown at his feet.

Thalen caught it, confused. "What’s this for?"

"You’ve changed," Rheis said, drawing his own sword. "Your aura burns louder. Stronger."

"And that’s a problem?"

"No," Rheis said, stepping forward. "But I want to see it."

Thalen narrowed his eyes.

He stepped into stance.

The clash was quick. Fierce. Sparks flew from each meeting of steel. Kindle burned hot in his hands, responding faster than ever. But Rheis was faster still.

He pressed Thalen back, then stopped just short of striking.

"You’re not ready," Rheis said, sheathing his sword. "Not for them. Not for the Gate."

Then he turned and walked away.

Thalen stood in the silence, teeth gritted.

The Night Before

The day before the exam, Elya found him atop the Bastion roof, watching the stars.

"You don’t sleep much," she said. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

"Neither do you."

They sat together in silence for a moment.

"You’ll pass," she said eventually.

"You don’t know that."

"I don’t need to know it," she replied. "You’re already different."

"How?"

"You listen when your aura speaks."

Thalen looked down at Kindle in his lap. The blade shimmered faintly in the moonlight.

"Do you think the Tyrant Spirit really chooses?"

Elya didn’t answer right away.

"I think it waits. For the one who burns the right way."

Elsewhere, in the Black Depths

Nine thrones sat empty.

One figure sat alone at the center his face shadowed beneath a white hood trimmed in silver fire.

He held a blade of obsidian and ember in one hand. In the other, a flame.

Not ordinary.

Tyrant-born.

A voice entered the chamber.

> "Another class approaches the Gate."

The hooded figure tilted his head.

> "Any potential?"

"Yes. One."

> "Name?"

"Thalen."

The flame in the figure’s hand pulsed.

For the first time in years, he smiled.