"Someone's coming!"
Dravok went silent, his eyes scanning in all directions as if expecting danger from every angle. The thick fog had numbed all senses—sight and even smell—but sound remained. Mia stood beside him, her heart pounding but her confidence high. Her body pressed slightly against his, yet unmistakably vigilant.
Distant cries echoed from other students. They weren't far, but the fog distorted their perception of distance.
Suddenly, a student lunged from behind Dravok, emerging from the mist with deliberate intensity. A magic-forged blade gripped in his hand, he moved like a tamer confronting a beast he barely could controlled. Clad in a black robe—Group Two.
Before Dravok could turn, Mia reacted.
"Cryo Cave," she chanted, raising her palms in calculated gestures.
In an instant, ice burst from her hands, coiling around the attacker with a sharp, cracking sound. He froze completely befor he cpuld even register in his mind—motionless. The energy was chilling—not magic-born, but a derivative of anti-magic.
"My my, seems you're all grown up," Dravok teased, acting as if he felt the icy energy seep into his core. He folded his arms dramatically and stepped back.
"Had to prove my worth, you know." Mia smirked, flexing her right muscle playfully.
His heartbeat quickened. He felt it—the warmth between him and Mia felt too familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint who it reminded him of. He stepped toward the frozen statue, dark mana cloaking his hand. He pierced into the student's pocket with ease, his energy melting through the ice like fire on snow. Magic and anti-magic clashed, but Dravok's aura was dominant—like the sun against the sea. He pulled out the wooden tag.
"Guess what I found," Dravok said, raising the tag playfully.
"Bingo!" Mia purred, winking one eye.
They continued roaming the magical forest. Under the sun, the terrain was asleep—no plants or magical predators like Venflora or Silver-Traps. But under the moonlight, those dormant threats awakened and ruled the land. Many students did not know this, only Dravok—and a few—did.
"Can I ask you something?" Mia said, lowering her gaze.
"Yeah, sure."
"What do you think I should give Kia for her birthday? It's tomorrow."
She probably wants a sharp blade to end me, Dravok thought.
"Think of something she'll value—something memorable. That should work."
"Memorable, huh…" Mia paused, lost in thought.
Dravok pushed ahead, increasing the distance between them until she slipped from his sight. Only then did he notice they were separated, he stopped, sensing two distinct energy pulses—one weaker, one stronger.
"Mia," he murmured, just above a whisper.
Taking a deep breath, Dravok exhaled a powerful gust that cleared the fog in his path.
Then he saw it.
Mia lay against a tree almost lifeless, blood stained the portion over her heart on her purple robe. Kia stood in front of her, gripping a bloodied magic-forged blade. Dressed in red, her eyes burned with resolve. Her chest rose and fell with every breath, desperate eyes locked on Dravok.
This should get her to hate me for sure, her thought echoed in her mind as she calculated her next move.
"Stay out of this, or you'll regret it," Kia commanded.
Her words confused him. The tag was with him. Why attack Mia and tell him to back off?
Dravok's face hardened.
"What did you do?"
"None of your business!" Kia snapped, no hesitation in her tone.
"Then I'm not stepping aside," he replied with a defiant smirk.
Without warning, Kia lunged. Dravok caught her wrist mid-air, preparing to counter—when another voice interrupted.
"Please forgive her, Sir Dravok."
Her eyes glittered with love. Even after Kia's desperate act, she still harbored no hatred.
It was Mia. Healed. Alive—and pleading.
Dravok let go. Kia collapsed under her own weight. As she raised her head, Mia appeared beside her.
"Oh, you're healed?" Kia said.
"I cast a regeneration spell on her since the hallway incident. Your behavior felt off," Dravok replied.
"Are you okay?" Mia asked gently, reaching to help. Kia refused.
"Wha... what are you?" Kia stammered, tears welling up.
She stood slowly, palms and feet glowing faintly with golden light. Then she began a graceful, almost celestial dance—arms and legs moving in wide, fluid arcs. Golden light poured from her steps until it completed a radiant circle etched with ancient runes.
Kia bent over, catching her breath.
"I tried every day to make you hate me—I was rude, I bullied you, I even risked shedding your blood. All trying to train you for this moment. To hate me. But you never did. This spell... it's all I could find. It can't fuse us, but it can give you the heart... a real life. Tomorrow, you'll disappear like you never existed. Like dust held by water instead of a soul. So Mia... please, kill me and take the heart. You deserve to live more than I do."
Tears streamed down Mia's cheeks. Memories flooded back—shared birthdays, quiet moments, the painful separation by parents who insisted Mia wasn't real.
She fell to her knees, fists squeezing her robe. The fear of death was, for sure, more dreadful than anything else—but within her, something stood above it. A sister's love.
Her gaze lifted, inspecting the demonic mirror of herself. It was like they were both willing to be crucified for each other.
"I can't!" she said with a broken scoff, a drop of tear falling onto her robe.
The words pierced Kia more than any blade. Flame surged from her demonic aura. She staggered forward, clutching the neck of Mia's robe.
"You must... you must," she cried. Her violet eyes glowed, her body trembling as heat surged.
It felt as if fire and ice had collided.
Dravok stood in silence, wrestling with a memory—a name: Elara. A name tied to both Kia and Mia. He still couldn't place it, but he felt they were connected to it.
"There's one way out!" Dravok's voice cut through the storm of emotion. A pure silence passed the air.
"You're two halves of one soul, separated by conflicting powers—fire and ice. To reunite, stop seeing each other as separate beings. Forgive. Accept. Balance your powers. Death is not necessary."
Both sisters locked their gaze on Dravok, copying each word as if he had revealed secrets hidden behind the sun. Even if it wasn't a spell, it hit harder than any magic ever could.
Their gazes returned to each other. They stared deep—like mirrors offering morning blessings.
"I am Elara," Kia said.
"I am Elara," Mia echoed.
Not just professing—but accept one identity.
They dropped their robes, minds made up. Dravok saw more than beauty—he saw proof. Each bore a mark: Mia with a black crescent moon on her back, Kia with a sun-shaped sigil.
It hit him.
Elara. The woman he'd loved more than a thousand years ago. The queen of frost and flame. Lost in war... and now reborn.
The twins stood at the center of the glowing magical circle. They joined hands, syncing in heart and memory. Radiance burst around them—blue and yellow spiraling into the sky. Their forms dissolved into golden dust, rising upward until only light remained.
Every student nearby saw the burst, but few dared approach.
The dust reformed.
Mia and Kia were no more.
They were now Elara's reincarnation.
She felt whole, One body. One soul. One mind. Eyes gleaming with appreciation. She could feel the sync if power with ever move she makes.
She floated midair—divine and radiant. Honey-brown eyes, golden-hazel curls, flawless curves sculpted like art. Her skin glittering as if anointed in olive oil, and even the air around her pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat.
Dravok smiled. He felt the warmth in the air—no longer a clash of frost and flame, but the balance of both. He snapped his fingers. A purple robe materialized around her—the one assigned for the trial.
But Elara wasn't finished.
She closed the distance with slow, deliberate steps. Her eyes locked on his, smoldering with unspoken promises. It wasn't Mia or Kia anymore—but Elara, walking with one body and one soul, carrying memories from a past life.
She stopped just inches from him, close enough for her breath to graze his lips, her finger tips tracing his chest. Without breaking eye contact, she tilted her head slightly—and kissed him.
A deep, knowing kiss.
Moments passed.
"Thank you, Lord Dravok," she whispered, her voice soft and sultry.
Dravok smiled. The familiarity in her tone was like a blessing to his soul.
"You're welcome, Elara," he replied, sensing heat signatures closing in.
"Leave the student's to me. I'll handle them" she smarked.