The Oyxia Chronicles: Shadow of Lorian

Chapter 1. Arrival in Lorian

No one came to Lorian by accident.Those whocrossed its gates either mastered fire — or were broken byit.Elissa knew this long before the carriage jolted on themountain road and the scarlet towers of the Castle of Fire rosebefore her.

The carriage jolted suddenly as thewheels struck a large stone with a dull thud.

Elissa lurched forward and instinctively grabbedthe edge of the seat.

“Damn it—” slipped from her lips, but shecut herself short.

A mage was sitting opposite her.

Elissa cast him a quick glance and immediatelyturned toward the window, biting her tongue. The court wizard lookedas though the shaking, the road, and the journey itself had nothingto do with him. He sat perfectly still, back straight, fingersclasped on his knees, staring straight ahead.

I hate this journey, Elissa thought.Thisroad. This winding path. This waiting.When will wefinally reach the Castle…

The carriage creaked again as it climbed higher,and at last the view outside stole Elissa’s breath.

A scarlet sun rose above the horizon, bathing thewalls of Castle Lorian in burning hues. Its towers, as if grown fromfrozen lava, glimmered with an inner light, as though living fireflowed within the stone. The castle stood atop a volcano—grim,majestic, terrifyingly beautiful.

A mix of awe and unease tightened Elissa’schest.

She had always known Lorian was vast. Sincechildhood, she had seen it from Pyrenholm—distant, almost unreal.But now, so close, its sheer scale was overwhelming.

“We’re almost there,” the mage said quietly.

Elissa didn’t answer. She gripped the edge ofher cloak, trying not to betray her anxiety.

Will I be enough?What if mymagic isn’t strong enough?What if I fail theirexpectations…

She stole a glance at her companion. Tall andgaunt, with sharp, almost carved features. His gray hair was tiedback in a short tail, and his black robe was adorned with darkcrimson accents.

A high-ranking mage, Elissathought.Father said only the strongest wear such mantles.

She had known his name for a long time.

Malker Airon.

The thought of him brought memories flooding back,sudden and vivid.

The room had been lined with black basalt slabsthat held warmth even at night. Malker Airon stood in the center,motionless as a statue.

“You are a sorceress,” he had said then. “AFire mage.”

He slowly opened his palm, and dark crimson flameflared between his fingers.

Elissa noticed, just for a moment, the thin whitelines on his wrists—old burn scars.

“Power is not responsibility,” he continued.“That’s what the weak like to say. Power is a right.”

Fire reflected in his eyes, turning his pupilsinto tiny sparks.

“The right to reshape the world as you see fit.”

The flame condensed into a glowing sphere,lighting his face.

“And if you have the courage to claim thatright… Lorian will give you everything.Everything you darenot dream of.And everything you will fear.”

He clenched his fist, extinguishing the fire. Theair filled with the scent of ozone.

“The sweetest and the most dangerous thing inour craft,” he added, turning toward the window where the castle’speaks burned.

The carriage swayed again, pulling Elissa backinto the present.

Outside, the volcano loomed. Its slopes werecovered in hardened lava, but here and there living streams of fireglowed red, like the pulsing blood of the land. The wind carried thesmell of sulfur and heated stone.

Below, at the foot of the mountain, lay Pyrenholm.Forges glimmered in the dusk like scattered stars, and the echoes ofhammer blows reached even this height. The city felt distant—like afragment of a former life.

Ahead lay Lorian.

The carriage continued up the winding road. Theheat grew more noticeable, as if the volcano itself were testing thetravelers’ resolve.

That was when Elissa noticed two figures by theroadside.

One was clearly a mage—something in his strideand posture gave him away. The other looked younger, slightlyhunched. His fiery red hair was unkempt, his travel cloak dusty, andhis fingers stained with ink or traces of spellwork. Despite hisunsteady steps, determination burned in his bright green eyes.

Just like me, Elissa thought.

“Students come to Lorian from every corner ofthe world,” Malker said, as if reading her thoughts. “And eachmust walk this path alone.”

The carriage left the travelers behind.

The gates appeared ahead.

Massive doors of dark metal, adorned with patternsof living flame, towered over the road. Arcane runes traced theirsurface, glowing with a warm crimson light.

The carriage slowed and came to a halt.

“We’ve arrived,” Malker said.

Elissa’s heart began to race. She had imaginedthis moment countless times, yet now that it was real, she felt anodd blend of exhilaration and fear.

The gates slowly parted. Waves of hot air rushedoutward, tugging at her cloak.

Malker stepped out first and turned back towardher.

“Welcome to Lorian.”

Elissa took a deep breath and stepped forward.

When the gates opened fully, the castle revealeditself in all its power. Black obsidian walls shimmered with innerlight, towers pierced the burning sky, and somewhere deep within thefortress ancient fire rumbled.

The heat here was stronger than in Pyrenholm. Theair trembled, and the scent of sulfur stung her nose.

“You seem frozen,” Malker remarked.

Elissa exhaled slowly.

“I’m just… adjusting.”

He nodded and moved ahead.

Elissa followed, crossing the threshold.

At last, the day had come.

Chapter Two. Leonard

The fire surged too fast.

Dry straw ignited as if it had been waiting forthat very moment—the flames leapt upward, greedy and crackling,devouring everything in their path. People screamed. Some ran towardthe well, others froze, unsure what to do.

“Water!” someone shouted.“Put it out!Put it out!”

Leonard stood a few steps from the shed, feelingheat build in his chest. Not fear—something else. Hot, crushing, asif the fire was not only outside, but inside him as well.

He didn’t understand what he was doing.

He simply stepped forward.

His arm extended on its own, fingerstightening—and the flames faltered, as though they had struck aninvisible wall. In the next instant, the fire collapsed in on itself,vanishing, leaving only smoke and the stench of char.

Silence fell.

Leonard stood motionless, a heavy sensationlingering in his hand—as if he had been holding something vast andunseen.

What did I just do…?

Someone crossed themselves. Others whispered.

His father grabbed his shoulder sharply.

“Home. Now.”

Leonard felt a wave of dizziness and, withoutquite realizing how, found himself back in the house.

That night, Leonard was forbidden to speak of whathad happened. But rumors do not ask permission.

Tirgald was a small village, and secrets did notsurvive long there.

Life was simple: livestock, fields, hearth. Thevillagers disliked change and distrusted those who thought too much.Leonard had known this since childhood. His books, his experiments,his attempts to understand the nature of fire had always unsettledhis neighbors.

“What use is learning when you have a shovel anda flock of sheep?” the village elder used to grumble.

Leonard was thin, slightly hunched—a consequenceof long hours bent over books. His red hair was perpetually unkempt,as if he forgot about it entirely, and his hands were almost alwaysmarked with burns or ink stains.

He was used to being strange.

Now, he was dangerous.

Several weeks passed before a stranger arrived inTirgald.

Tall, with a mane of gray hair, wearing a darkcloak embroidered with crimson patterns. He introduced himself asValkerian.

Leonard sensed him before he saw him. The heatwithin stirred again—uneasy, alert.

On the square, the mage spoke with the villageelder. Later, Valkerian sat at a roughly hewn table in the elder’shouse.

“Tell me about the boy,” he said calmly. “Theone who commands fire.”

The elder hesitated.

“We don’t like such talk. Magic… it bringstrouble. Leonard is a good lad. Just… strange.”

“Power frightens those who cannot control it,”Valkerian replied. “He must learn.”

The elder sighed.

“And will that be a blessing for him? And forus?”

But the mage already knew the answer.

When Valkerian announced that Leonard was to gowith him, the house filled with heavy silence.

His mother sat by the hearth, clutching anembroidered handkerchief. His father stood with arms crossed.

“You mean to take our son?” his mother asked,her voice trembling.

“His gift cannot be ignored.”

“A gift—or a curse?” his father shot back.

“Without training, it will become a curse,”the mage said. “You saw the fire. Next time, it may not go out.”

“I’m not a child,” Leonard said, surprisedby the steadiness of his own voice. “I need to know who I am.”

His father studied him for a long moment. Then henodded.

“Go. But remember where you come from.”

His mother embraced him—tight, desperate.

His sister came last. In her hands she held an oldwooden figurine of a rider.

“Take it,” she said quietly. “So you won’tforget us.”

Leonard slipped the figurine into his bag.

“I’ll remember.”

She turned away quickly, so he wouldn’t see hertears.

The next morning, Leonard left Tirgald.

His mother wept. His father stood motionless.

Leonard did not look back.

He knew there was no road back anymore.

Chapter Three. Elissa’s First Trial

“Are you Elissa Firell?”

The voice came without warning—dry, sharp,intolerant of delay.

Elissa flinched and looked up.

A mage stood before the gates of Lorian, clad in adark robe threaded with crimson veins, as if the fabric itself hadabsorbed fire. His face was hidden beneath a hood, yet she felt hisgaze—heavy, appraising.

“The Council has spoken of you,” he continued.“Show that you are worthy to enter.”

Something tightened in her chest. Not fear—morelike the emptiness before a leap.

Elissa stepped forward.

The mage raised his hand.

A sphere of fire flared to life between hisfingers—bright, dense, unnaturally alive. He cast it aside, and theflame froze in midair, shimmering like a captured heart of thevolcano.

“Extinguish it.”

No gesture. No guidance. Only an order.

Heat struck her face at once. The air trembled,her palms grew slick with sweat. Elissa heard her ownbreathing—uneven, too loud.

Put out the fire.

She had done this before. At home. Alone. When noone was watching.

Now they were watching.

She extended her hand, trying to recall thesensation—not resistance, but compression, as if the flame shouldnot be pushed away, but drawn inward.

The fire wavered.

For a heartbeat, she thought she had succeeded.

Then something slipped.

The flame flared brighter—and exploded, burstinginto a thousand sparks. A wave of heat slammed into her, and Elissastaggered back, shielding her face. Her ears rang.

Silence fell abruptly.

She lowered her hand. Her heart hammered as iftrying to tear its way out of her chest.

The mage watched her in silence.

Then he gave a slight nod.

“Interesting,” he said at last. “Butinsufficient.”

His words were even. Without anger. Withoutpraise.

That made it worse.

He turned away, signaling the end of the exchange.

Elissa stood there, her face burning—not fromheat, but from shame. Only then did she realize there were othersnearby. Students. Mages. Those who had witnessed her mistake.

The stone beneath her feet was warm—obsidianheld heat like the skin of a furnace. Thin cracks ran between theslabs, breathing out the volcano’s warmth. Lorian was alive.Watching.

“Don’t stand there like a statue.”

The voice came from beside her—calm, assured.

Elissa turned.

A woman approached, dressed in a scarlet robeembroidered with gold. She moved lightly, almost soundlessly, with nohaste or doubt in her stride. Amber eyes swept over Elissa—quick,sharp.

“You’re Elissa Firell?” she asked.

Elissa nodded.

“I’m Ella Wiltsir. Your mentor.”

The words were spoken plainly, as a statement offact.

Elissa blinked, not immediately trusting whatshe’d heard.

“I… failed,” she breathed.

Ella glanced toward the spot where the fire hadhovered moments before, then back at Elissa.

“You didn’t fail,” she said. “You lostcontrol. Those are different things.”

She stepped closer. Elissa noticed an old burnscar on her wrist—pale, uneven, the mark of pain long endured.

“Fire doesn’t tolerate hesitation,” Ellacontinued. “But it respects those who remain standing after amistake.”

Elissa exhaled slowly. Her heart still raced, butits rhythm was steadier now.

“What should I do?” she asked.

Ella tilted her head slightly.

“For now—follow me. A room. Food. Sleep.Tomorrow you’ll face the flame again.”

She paused briefly.

“And next time, it will listen.”

She turned and walked away without looking back.

Elissa lingered for a moment—casting one lastglance at Lorian’s gates, at the burning sky above the towers, atthe warm stone beneath her feet.

Then she stepped after her mentor.

The trial had only just begun.

Chapter Four. The Great Hall of Lorian

As Elissa stepped inside, she was immediately wrapped in a sense ofliving warmth — not scorching, but enveloping, like the breath ofancient flame.

The hall was enormous, its sheer size overwhelmingthe imagination. A high, domed ceiling was supported by massivecolumns carved with scenes from the history of the Castle of Fire:battles between mages, the taming of dragons, the creation of thefirst great spells. Every pattern, every symbol was more thandecoration — it was a fragment of magical heritage.

At the very center of the ceiling hung a magicalchandelier — the flaming heart of the hall. It was no ordinarysource of light, but living magic bound into dancing tongues of fire.By day, it shone with a soft golden glow, like sunlight breakingthrough clouds; by night, its light deepened to a rich crimson,casting flickering shadows across the walls.

The walls themselves were adorned with ancientrunes carved into black stone. Most of the time they were barelyvisible, but the moment someone spoke an incantation or began aritual, the runes flared bright red, sending thin lines of fireracing through the hall, weaving into intricate patterns.

The floor was smooth volcanic glass, like cooledlava that still held a trace of heat. Thin golden veins ran acrossits surface, forming mysterious symbols that faded and reappeared asif breathing with the hall.

At the far end of the hall, upon a raised dais,stood a throne — the symbol of the Castle of Fire’s authority.Massive and imposing, it was forged from melted metal and obsidian,black as night, laced with veins of glowing copper. Even from adistance, Elissa could feel the warmth radiating from it, as thoughtrue flame was sealed within.

Behind the throne towered a gigantic ring of fire— the sigil of Lorian. It burned endlessly, never dimming, itsflames shifting through every shade of fire: from sun-gold to deepcarmine. In it, the essence of the castle was reflected —greatness, passion, destruction, and creation.

When Elissa took a few steps forward, her ownreflection flashed in the glassy surface at her feet, while above herthe light of the magical fire trembled. She felt very small in thisplace of history, power, and secret knowledge.

The crowd of students slowly spread out across thehall, but Elissa still lingered at the edge, as if hoping to blendinto the stone wall. The fiery runes pulsed softly, bathing her facein warm light. She studied the hall carefully, trying not to look toolost.

“Are you new?” a voice asked suddenly besideher.

Elissa flinched and turned. In front of her stooda tall young man with chestnut hair threaded with golden reflectionsfrom the torches, as if flame itself had tangled there. He smiledopenly and kindly, his amber eyes alight with curiosity.

“My name is Kaylen. Welcome to Lorian.” Heheld out a hand, waiting for her response.

Elissa hesitated for a moment, then took his hand.Warmth. He radiated a cozy, soothing heat — like a hearth on awinter night.

“Thank you. I’m Elissa.”

“Elissa,” he repeated, tilting his headslightly, as though tasting the name. “Nice name. Have you had achance to look around yet?”

“I… haven’t really,” she admitted, feelinga tight knot of uncertainty in her chest.

“Then come on!” Kaylen waved, inviting her tofollow. “I’ve been here a week already, so I know where the mostinteresting corners are hidden.”

Elissa took a hesitant step forward, then stopped,suddenly unsure.

“Are new students even allowed to wander aroundthe castle freely?” she asked cautiously.

“Well…” Kaylen’s mouth curved into a slygrin. “Formally — no. But if no one sees us, then why not?”

He winked, and Elissa realized he was far from themost obedient student in Lorian.

“And by the way,” he added, fishing somethingout of his pocket, “have you heard about the Song of Flame?”

“The Song of… what?”

“Oh, then you definitely need to know! It’sour school of magic. There’s so much to learn there!” He openedhis palm, revealing a copper amulet covered in mesmerizing patterns.“This is my latest work. It can store magical energy. Want me toshow you how it works?”

Elissa hesitated. All around her were new faces,strict instructors, unfamiliar rules… But there was such lively,genuine enthusiasm in Kaylen’s voice that she suddenly wanted toforget everything for a moment and just see what he would do.

She nodded.“Sure.”

Kaylen smiled with satisfaction and raised theamulet toward the blazing runes on the wall.

The amulet flared with violet fire; tongues offlame licked the stone — and nothing happened. The castle’smagical defenses held firm.

Kaylen narrowed his eyes in displeasure, turningthe amulet over in his hands.

“Hm… I was hoping for something a bit moredramatic,” he muttered, holding it up to the runes again.

The violet flame flashed once more, but as soon asit brushed the wall, it simply vanished, dissolving into the air. Thecastle’s wards did not so much as flicker.

“Not bad,” Elissa said thoughtfully, watching.“But you didn’t really think you could affect Lorian’sspellwork, did you?”

Kaylen smirked, slipping the amulet back into hispocket.

“Of course not. I was just testing how strongthe defenses are. Besides, you don’t actually want me to show youall my tricks right away, do you?”

Elissa’s lips curved in the faintest smile. Shewas now certain of one thing — life with this boy around would notbe dull.

“So, how about that tour?” he asked, steppingaway from the wall. “I promise it gets more interesting from here.”

Elissa hesitated for just a moment, but when shemet his confident gaze, she finally stepped forward.

“All right. Lead the way.”

Kaylen nodded, pleased, and headed toward the exitof the hall, guiding her deeper into the castle.

“Then let’s go!” he called, motioning forher to follow.

She lingered for a heartbeat, glancing around. TheGreat Hall of Lorian was magnificent, almost overwhelming in itsscale. The blazing ring behind the throne cast uneven reflections offire across the walls, and the runes in the stonework shimmered as ifalive.

“Where are we going?” Elissa asked, catchingup with him.

“First I’ll show you the Ritual Amphitheater.That’s where the most spectacular duels take place!” Excitementflashed in his eyes. “Anyway, it’s one of the main places formages of Lorian.At least, that’s what the senior studentstold me.”

They passed through the massive doors of the GreatHall and entered a wide corridor leading toward the RitualAmphitheater. The air here was hotter than in the hall, as though thebreath of the earth seeped through the walls. The floor trembledfaintly underfoot with the distant roar of flames.

When they reached the amphitheater, an impressivesight opened before Elissa. It was a vast open-air arena, surroundedby a ring of solidified lava. It seemed to flow slowly, pulsing withinner light, amplifying the magic worked there. In the center of thearena, she saw marks of scorched patterns — ritual sigils left bypast duelists.

“This is where mages face their trials and trainfor battle,” Kaylen explained. “The fire here isn’t justscenery, it’s… alive. Feel it.”

Elissa knelt and touched the ground with herfingertips. A vibration ran up her hand, and for a moment it felt asthough a spark flashed beneath her skin.

She jerked her hand back.“Wow…” shebreathed.

Kaylen chuckled.“Get used to it. Lorian isfull of surprises.”

He glanced at the soaring magical towers and thenback at her.

“Want to see the ‘Flame of Destruction’?That’s the battle magic tower. I think you’ll like it!” hesuggested.

Elissa hesitated for only a heartbeat and thennodded, feeling her heart quicken again. She was about to discoverLorian — and her path was only beginning.

She had just opened her mouth to answer when astern voice cut in beside them:

“You two — new students?”

They turned. A tall mage was approaching, clad indark red robes embroidered with golden runes. His sharp gaze slidover them both, lingering on Kaylen, who scratched the back of hishead in guilty reflex.

“Why are you wandering the castle?” the magecontinued. “The Trial of Fire is about to begin. Get back to theGreat Hall, now.”

Kaylen tensed at once.“The trial…already? But we were told it would be in three days!”

“It begins now. And if you wish to remain inLorian, you would be wise not to be late.”The mage fixed themwith a piercing stare and folded his arms.“Besides, theamphitheater is no longer in use — it was closed by order of LordHelion, the Lord of the Castle.After seven mages died during atraining duel. An unacceptable loss.”

Elissa felt her throat go dry. Her fingersclenched into a fist. She had just arrived at the castle — and theywere already throwing her into a trial?

Kaylen cast her a quick glance, then looked backat the mage.

“All right, we’re going!”

They broke into a run, racing back throughLorian’s corridors. The heat of the walls, the pulsing magic, theglow of lanterns — all of it blurred into a single whirl aroundthem.

When they burst back into the Great Hall, dozensof students had already gathered. Voices murmured throughout the hallas everyone waited for the trial to begin. On the dais before LordHelion’s throne stood several instructor-mages. One of them steppedforward, raised his hand, and his voice rolled through the hall likethunder:

“Newcomers! Welcome to the Trial of Fire. Today,you will prove whether you are worthy of becoming part of Lorian!”

Elissa felt a strange, conflicting emotion flarewithin her — fear… and excitement.

The trial had begun.

Chapter Five. Leonard — Arrival at the Castle of Fire

Leonard and Valkerian walked along a narrow path leading up to LorianCastle. Below them stretched sun-scorched plains, broken only by rarepatches of dry grass, and in the distance rose the massive fortresswalls etched with symbols of fire. The air here felt different —thick with heat and the pulse of magic. Leonard could feel his ownpower responding to this place, stirring deeper than ever before. Hishands trembled slightly, but he tried to remain composed. He knewthis was his chance to learn control — but also that the road aheadwould be far from easy.In his ears echoed his father’s words:“Don’t forget where you come from.”

Those words steadied him, if only for a moment.

A carriage thundered past them, kicking up pillarsof dust. Through its window Leonard caught a glimpse of a girl withbright, fiery hair.

Just like mine, Leonard thought.Beautiful — and riding in a carriage. She must be from a noblefamily.

Beside her sat a man in a cloak very much likeValkerian’s.

Another mage, probably. Escorting his studentto the castle. Meanwhile, we still have a good half hour to walk,Leonard thought with a twinge of jealousy.