The Empress called it tradition.
King Theron called it proof.
Lady Marellia, smiling behind her veil, called it necessary.
Elara only felt the silence.
She stepped into the Arena of Ancients, bare feet on sun-warmed stone.
Runes glowed under the midday light.
Nobles filled the terraces silks, fans, bright laughter meant for someone else.
They weren't here to cheer.
They came to watch her fail.
"Let the fire decide."
The High Priest's voice boomed.
A hush… then a laugh.
Princess Isla leaned over the rail, gold hair catching the sun.
"Even beasts have standards. Let's hope they're low."
Snickers rolled through the crowd.
Elara held Isla's stare.
Isla looked away first.
On the royal throne, King Theron folded his arms.
"Let the Stone prove its worth," he muttered. "Or burn her down."
Elara breathed in scorched air.
The arena floor shimmered… then split.
Smoke rose.
Flame twisted into a shape half-lion, half-dragon.
A living blaze.
No sword. No spell.
Shouts rained from above:
"Command it, girl!"
"She has no power just scandal!"
Elara stepped forward.
Sat cross-legged.
Palms open. Still.
Fire listens only when you stop trying to master it.
The beast circled heat blistering her skin—but she didn't flinch.
Sweat dripped.
She simply breathed.
The flames slowed… softened.
Elara raised one hand, not to rule but to invite.
The beast rested its burning muzzle in her palm, then curled into glowing embers at her feet.
Gasps everywhere.
A goblet hit the marble.
Someone fainted.
Even guards stared.
The High Priest whispered, shaken:
"Not since ...…"
Isla's sharp voice cut through:
"It's a trick."
King Theron's reply was ice:
"Enough."
Uncertainty flickered in his eyesthe first crack in stone.
"Bring her to the Hall. We have… much to discuss."
A spark walks away
Elara rose.
The fire beast faded to smoke and slipped back into the floor.
She did not bow.
She did not look up.
In the shadowed corridor she finally tremble hand stinging, heart racing.
The fire hadn't burned her.
But it had seen her.
Now the whole realm had too.
"You didn't burn."
Ana skidded around the corner, skirts hitched, eyes wet.
She hugged Elara hard.
"Stars above, I thought they sent you to die!"
"They did," Elara said. "It just didn't work."
Ana laughed and cried at once.
"Lady Marellia is watching, and the King looks like he swallowed ash."
"Let him choke on it," Elara muttered.
For the first time, the girl no one clapped for felt like more than a shadow.
She felt like a spark.
Above them, behind heavy curtains, new plots were already taking shape.