Chapter 3

The LAYRA Academy was unlike anything Wendall had ever imagined.

By day, it appeared to be a prestigious institution focused on AI development, robotics, and cybernetics, filled with the brightest minds on Earth. But beneath the surface, hidden within its underground chambers, a secretive division trained individuals who possessed something beyond intelligence—power.

Selene had guided Wendall to a concealed section known as The Arcane Core, a place only a select few ever saw. Here, students didn't just build machines—they learned to merge magic with technology.

But before Wendall could be accepted, she had to pass the Trials.

Wendall was led into a circular metallic room with walls lined with glowing AI-driven monitors. A robotic voice spoke:

"Candidate 0167, Wendall. Begin the Intelligence Trial."

The screens flickered, presenting her with a series of puzzles, algorithms, and logic-based challenges.

Her orphanage had never given her a proper education, but her mind worked in ways even she didn't understand. Somehow, she could see the patterns in the data, the hidden codes buried in the complexity of the numbers.

As the test continued, her fingers moved instinctively over the holographic interface. The energy inside her pulsed, and without thinking, she mentally connected with the AI itself.

A spark of golden and silver light flickered through the screens.

Then—the system shut down.

The robotic voice hesitated. "Unusual response detected. Intelligence score: Beyond measurable limits."

Selene, watching from a distance, smiled. She's more powerful than I thought.

The next trial was far more dangerous.

Wendall was taken to a massive combat arena, where other recruits—some with cybernetic enhancements, others wielding unknown energy weapons—stood, ready to fight.

"Here at LAYRA, intelligence alone isn't enough," an instructor announced. "To survive, you must be able to defend yourself."

Wendall was handed a small device, which activated into a glowing energy gauntlet.

Her opponent? A towering recruit named Rax, a boy with mechanical arms and speed-enhancing cybernetics.

The moment the fight started, Rax launched forward with inhuman speed.

Wendall barely had time to react. She dodged, but he was too fast—until something inside her awakened.

Her KURAT magic flared, her instincts sharpening beyond human limits. As Rax lunged again, she raised her hand, and suddenly—

The energy gauntlet merged with her magic.

A surge of silver and gold light exploded from her palm, sending Rax flying backward.

The entire arena fell silent.

The instructor's eyes narrowed. "Interesting."

Selene, watching from the shadows, whispered to herself: "She's adapting. Faster than I expected."

The final trial was the hardest.

Wendall was led to a dark chamber, where a sphere of pure, unstable energy floated before her.

"The last test," Selene explained, "is to control the balance between magic and technology."

The energy sphere pulsed erratically, flickering between AI-generated electric pulses and something far older—raw magic.

"You must stabilize it," Selene said. "If you fail, it will collapse… and take you with it."

Wendall swallowed hard.

She stepped forward and raised her hands, reaching out with both her mind and her magic.

At first, the energy resisted. Sparks flew, shadows pulsed. Her vision blurred.

But then, she remembered something.

The dream. The voice calling her. The golden and silver lights merging.

Magic and technology were not enemies. They were two sides of the same power.

She took a deep breath and focused.

The moment her hands touched the sphere—it stabilized.

Golden and silver light wrapped around it, pulsing in perfect harmony.

The robotic voice echoed:

"Trial complete. Candidate 0167… accepted into LAYRA Academy."

As Wendall stepped out of the testing chamber, Selene placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You are ready," she said. "But remember—LAYRA is not just a school. It has its own secrets. Stay sharp."

Wendall nodded, determination burning in her eyes.

She had passed the Trials.

But she had only just begun to uncover the truth.

****

Zypharain had always known she was different.

Born as the princess of Oaky, the smallest but most powerful realm, she was expected to be a warrior, a ruler, and an obedient heir to the throne. But her father, King Veylan, was not just a ruler—he was a tyrant.

Oaky was a land of great power, feared across the realms. Unlike other kingdoms, it did not rely on diplomacy or alliances. It relied on dominance. The King's word was law, and his law was absolute control.

Zypharain had spent her childhood in the royal citadel, surrounded by towering walls, guarded day and night. Her father had always kept her locked away, telling her that her power was too great, too dangerous.

But she knew the truth.

He feared her.

Feared what she could become.

Feared that she, the only wielder of KURAT magic in Oaky, might one day challenge him.

And so, she made her choice.

She would escape.

The night of her escape was drowned in storm clouds. Lightning cracked the sky as Zypharain crept through the dim corridors of the citadel.

She had spent months planning this moment—studying the guards' shifts, mapping secret exits, and gathering supplies.

Her heart pounded as she reached the Forbidden Tower, an ancient structure that held Oaky's greatest secrets of magic.

There, hidden behind layers of enchanted locks, lay an object she needed—The Veilstone.

It was an artifact of old magic, capable of cloaking her from tracking spells. Without it, her father's sorcerers would hunt her down before she could even leave the realm.

Whispering an incantation she had memorized from the old scrolls, she placed her hand on the stone door.

It trembled, then shattered into dust.

Inside, the Veilstone pulsed with a soft, blue glow.

She grabbed it and turned to leave—

But the moment she did, she felt it.

A presence. Watching. Waiting.

A deep, cold voice echoed through the chamber.

"You disappoint me, daughter."

Zypharain's blood ran cold.

King Veylan stood at the entrance, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"You think you can leave?" His voice was eerily calm. "You think I will allow you to walk away with the power of KURAT, unbound and uncontrolled?"

Zypharain's fists clenched. "You don't control me."

Her father stepped forward. "You are mistaken. I have controlled you since the day you were born. And you will not leave this kingdom."

Zypharain did not hesitate.

She reached deep within herself, summoning the power she had always been afraid to use.

Golden flames erupted from her palms.

The room trembled.

For the first time, Zypharain saw something in her father's eyes that she had never seen before.

Fear.

And in that moment, she knew—he had never been protecting her. He had been protecting himself.

Zypharain turned and ran.

The citadel erupted into chaos. Guards stormed the halls, shouting orders, drawing weapons, but she was faster.

With the Veilstone in hand, she activated its power—her form blurred, flickering out of sight.

She reached the castle's eastern wall, where a secret passage led into the wildlands beyond Oaky's borders.

But as she stepped through, she heard her father's voice one last time—whispered through the wind, carried by dark magic.

"Run, Zypharain. Run far. But know this—no matter where you go, I will find you. And when I do… you will kneel."

Zypharain clenched her jaw and stepped into the unknown.

She had escaped Oaky.

But her journey was only just beginning.

***

Oaky was the smallest realm, yet its power was unmatched. While other realms thrived through alliances, Oaky thrived through war, strategy, and the sheer might of its ruler—King Veylan.

The people of Oaky did not question their king. Fear had silenced them long ago.

Veylan was not just a king. He was a conqueror, a warlord draped in the robes of a ruler. He ruled with an iron fist, crushing rebellion before it even had the chance to form.

But there was one thing he could not control.

His own daughter.

From the moment she was born, Zypharain had been different. She was his heir, yet she was also his greatest threat.

Unlike Veylan, whose power came from centuries of ruthless conquest, Zypharain's power was something far older. She was born with the magic of KURAT—something no ruler of Oaky had ever possessed.

Veylan feared what she could become.

He feared that one day, she would rise against him.

And so, he locked her away.

Her childhood was spent behind the thick walls of the Ivory Citadel, the highest tower in Oaky, where no one could reach her.

Her tutors taught her only what her father allowed—the art of war, the history of Oaky's conquests, the laws of obedience.

But Zypharain was no fool.

Even as a child, she saw the way her father's eyes darkened when he looked at her. Not with love. Not with pride.

With fear.

"Power must be controlled," Veylan told her when she was eight. "And you, Zypharain, are a weapon. One day, I will decide how to use you."

At twelve, he tested her.

In the grand halls of the citadel, he brought forth a captured prisoner—a rebel who had spoken against his rule.

He handed her a sword.

"Kill him," he ordered.

Zypharain hesitated, staring at the terrified man before her.

"No," she whispered.

Veylan's expression did not change. With a flick of his hand, he signaled the guards—who cut the man down before her eyes.

Zypharain felt something inside her shatter.

"You will learn, daughter," Veylan said, voice cold as steel. "If you refuse to use your power, then you are no daughter of mine."

That was the day she realized—her father did not love her.

She was not his child.

She was his possession.

As Zypharain grew, so did her magic.

She tried to suppress it, to ignore it, but it was wild, untamed.

One night, during a storm, she lost control.

A simple argument with her father turned into an inferno. Her power surged, golden flames erupting around her. The very walls of the citadel trembled.

For the first time, her father looked at her with true terror.

But instead of acknowledging her strength, he struck her down.

"You are a threat," he hissed. "And threats are meant to be destroyed."

That was the moment she knew—she could not stay in Oaky.

If she did, her father would never stop until he broke her completely.

Or worse—until he found a way to use her power for himself.

From that day forward, Zypharain planned her escape.

She knew that if she stayed, she would either become her father's greatest weapon… or his next victim.

And she refused to be either.

Her father had underestimated her.

He thought he had tamed her.

But Zypharain was not a caged bird.

She was a phoenix, waiting to rise.