Beyond the Gateways

Chapter 7: The First Test

The training ground was alive with the hum of energy. The air seemed thicker, charged with magic, and Ariana could feel it all around her. She had spent hours trying to control her powers, the subtle energy of the Gateways still thrumming just beneath her skin, always there, always waiting.

Dorian had been patient, at first, guiding her through basic exercises—breathing techniques to center her magic, focusing on the energy flowing through her wrists, and simple formations of light and shadow. But now, as the sun began to set, a new sense of urgency had entered his voice.

"Today's different," Dorian said, standing in front of Ariana, his posture tense. "We're going to test your control. You've been reactive so far—reacting to what the magic does to you. Now, I want you to control it. Direct it."

Ariana nodded, swallowing hard. She had a growing sense of what he meant, but her confidence was still shaky. Despite the hours of training, there was always a sense of unpredictability when it came to her magic.

"I'm ready," she said, but her voice lacked the certainty she was trying to convey.

Dorian didn't seem to notice. He motioned to the space around them. "Focus on the energy. See it. Don't just feel it. Imagine it—shape it as though it's a part of you. Hold it. Keep it steady."

Ariana closed her eyes, her breath coming in steady, controlled inhales. She reached for the magic inside her, feeling the faint hum of power beneath her skin. This time, she didn't just wait for it to surge. She sought it out, commanding it to rise. Slowly, the sensation of warmth spread from her wrists, and she allowed the energy to flow up her arms, but she held it there, steadying it.

She exhaled, feeling the magic hum, vibrant and alive.

"Good," Dorian said, his voice soft but impressed. "Now, shape it."

Ariana's brow furrowed. She had never tried to shape it before. She could make it pulse, create a surge of energy, but directing it... That was different. She tried to imagine it—a beam of light, sharp and focused. The power swirled around her fingers, and she felt the magic bend, twist, as if responding to her will.

But then it fizzled out, the light flickering weakly before disappearing completely.

Frustration bubbled up inside her, but she pushed it down. "I can't do it."

Dorian's eyes softened for a moment, but he didn't offer her sympathy. "You're trying to force it. You don't need to control everything. You need to let it flow. Focus on what you want to happen, not on making it happen."

Ariana clenched her fists, her patience worn thin. "It's not that easy, Dorian."

"I never said it would be," he replied, his voice hardening. "But if you want to survive what's coming, you need to push through. You're stronger than you think, Ariana. I know you are."

Ariana's heart pounded in her chest, her pulse racing. The pressure weighed down on her. She didn't want to disappoint him—not after everything they had been through. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes again and focused, pushing aside the doubts that clouded her mind.

She imagined the light once more, but this time, she focused on how it would feel to command it, to have it bend to her will. The warmth swelled in her chest, and as if responding to her clarity, the light formed—soft at first, then bright and focused, like a beam of pure energy shooting from her palm.

When she opened her eyes, she saw it—the beam, strong and unwavering. It held steady, pulsing with the magic she had finally learned to direct.

Ariana couldn't help but smile. She had done it.

Dorian's eyes were wide, his jaw slightly clenched. For a moment, she saw a flicker of something like pride in his gaze, but it was quickly masked by his usual guarded expression.

"Good," he said, his voice steady. "Now, keep it steady. Don't let it fade."

But before Ariana could react, the sound of footsteps interrupted them. Both of them tensed, Dorian's gaze snapping to the edge of the clearing. Ariana felt a sudden unease settle in her stomach.

Out of the shadows stepped a figure—a woman, tall and imposing, dressed in dark leather and a cloak that billowed behind her. She was elegant, her movements controlled, but there was something dangerous in the way she carried herself. Her eyes, a piercing shade of violet, locked onto Ariana immediately, a calculating gleam in them.

"Dorian," the woman said, her voice smooth and cold. "I knew I'd find you here."

Dorian's stance immediately shifted, a subtle but telling sign of recognition. "Celine," he muttered, his voice a mix of annoyance and wariness.

Ariana's heart skipped a beat. Who was this? And why did Dorian look so... unsettled?

The woman's gaze flicked to Ariana, lingering on the glowing runes on her wrists before turning back to Dorian. "So, this is the one. The key." She tilted her head slightly, as if studying Ariana with a mixture of amusement and disdain.

Dorian stepped in front of Ariana, a protective instinct flaring in him. "Stay back," he warned.

The woman (Celine), Ariana thought—smirked. "I don't think I need to take orders from you anymore, Dorian. Not when there's a far more interesting prize standing right here."

Ariana felt a chill race down her spine. There was something about the way Celine spoke—like she knew more than she should. Something about the woman's presence made the air seem heavier, charged with danger.

"Who are you?" Ariana asked, her voice steady despite the tension building in the air.

Celine's smirk deepened, and she stepped forward, not threateningly, but with an undeniable sense of authority. "I'm someone who knows exactly what you're capable of, Ariana. And I'm here to make sure you realize your potential."

Dorian's jaw tightened. "Don't listen to her. She's not your ally."

Celine's gaze shifted from Dorian back to Ariana, her smile widening. "You'll see, eventually. The Gateways don't give power freely. They demand a price. And you, Ariana, have yet to pay yours."

---