The tactical chamber of Dominion Academy was painfully bright, its mirrored walls reflecting every flicker of light into a thousand sharp points. It was a room designed for precision: nothing out of place, no shadows to hide mistakes. It was the perfect stage for triumph—or failure.

Ami tightened her grip on the crystalline staff in her hands as she stood at the center of the chamber. Her palms were slick with sweat, making the polished surface hard to hold. The containment seal hovered in midair before her, an intricate lattice of pale blue threads that pulsed faintly in the sterile light of the room. The lattice was fragile, delicate—perfect.

And it was her job to stabilize it.

“Focus, Amarantha,” came Amariel’s voice, cutting through the tension like a blade. Cold, precise, and utterly unrelenting. Her gray eyes bore into Ami from where she stood at the edge of the training circle, her expression already carved in stone. “If you cannot control the threads, you do not belong here.”

Ami flinched at the sound of her full name. Her classmates, seated silently along the mirrored walls, didn’t react, but she knew they were all watching. She could feel their eyes on her, waiting for her to falter. Control the threads. Stabilize the lattice. This should have been easy.

“Containment is precision,” Amariel continued, her tone sharp enough to cut. “Discipline. Control. Dominion magic is not about improvisation, Amarantha—it is about perfection. Begin again.”

Ami’s chest tightened as she nodded, raising the staff again. The threads of energy rippled faintly around her, waiting for her to guide them. She closed her eyes, drawing in a steadying breath. If she could just block out the cold, the stares, her mother’s voice—if she could just focus—then maybe she could—

you’re going to drop it, whispered anna, her voice soft and teasing at the edge of Ami’s mind. you always do. why bother pretending?

“Not now,” Ami muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” Amariel snapped, her voice laced with frost.

“Nothing,” Ami said quickly, straightening her posture. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tightened her grip on the staff. The threads of blue light began to shift under her guidance, weaving into a delicate pattern within the containment circle. Slowly, carefully, the lattice began to form, its glowing threads spiraling together like an intricate web.

For a moment, Ami felt a flicker of hope. She was doing it. The threads were aligning, the magic was holding. She could feel the energy stabilizing, balancing itself against the weight of her control.

but it’s so boring, anna’s voice broke through again, curling like smoke in her mind. where’s the fun in steady? magic is supposed to feel alive. let me show you how.

“Shut up,” Ami whispered under her breath, her voice trembling.

The threads wavered.

THE COLLAPSE

“Amarantha,” Amariel snapped, her voice slicing through the chamber like a whip. “Stabilize it. Now.”

“I’m trying!” Ami said, gritting her teeth. But the threads were slipping through her mental grasp, unraveling faster than she could pull them back. The containment lattice trembled, cracks forming along its edges. She tightened her focus, trying to hold onto the threads, but her hands were shaking, her breathing ragged.

you’re holding on too tight, anna whispered, her tone almost lazy, like she was enjoying the show. you’re going to break it. just let go, already.

“No!” Ami shouted.

The threads snapped.

The explosion that followed wasn’t massive, but it was enough to send Ami flying backward. She hit the polished floor hard, her staff clattering out of her hands. Light flashed across the mirrored walls, fractures spreading across their pristine surfaces. The containment circle shattered, shards of blue energy scattering like broken glass.

When the dust settled, Ami sat up slowly, her ears ringing. The chamber was silent, save for the faint hum of dissipating magic and the sound of Amariel’s heels clicking sharply against the floor. She approached with measured steps, her silver robes trailing behind her like frost on a windowpane.

“That,” Amariel said, stopping a few feet away, “was chaos.”

“I didn’t—” Ami started, but her voice faltered under Amariel’s gaze.

“Dominion does not tolerate chaos,” Amariel continued, her tone even colder. “Control yourself, Amarantha. Or leave.”

The weight of her words hit like a hammer, leaving no room for defense. Amariel didn’t wait for a reply. She turned on her heel and walked away, her footsteps echoing through the chamber as she left.

The other students followed, their whispers flickering like shadows in the wake of her departure. None of them looked back.

THE AFTERMATH

For a long moment, Ami didn’t move. Her chest felt tight, her hands trembling as she reached for her staff. The crystalline surface was cracked now, its once-perfect glow dimmed to a faint flicker. The shards of the containment seal lay scattered around her, reflecting distorted images in their broken surfaces.

Her reflection stared back at her from a dozen angles—fractured, incomplete, wrong.

well, that went well, anna said, her voice practically dripping with amusement. maybe next time, let me handle it. i can’t be worse than... this.

“Quiet,” Ami whispered, though her voice barely carried.

She forced herself to her feet, her legs shaky beneath her. She gathered the shards of her staff, their edges sharp against her fingers, and began to leave the chamber.

But as she reached the door, a faint light caught her eye. She turned back, her gaze falling on the remnants of the containment seal. For a moment, she thought she saw something—some subtle ripple of energy, like a shadow moving just beneath the surface.

She froze, her grip tightening on the staff shards.

“Something’s—”

shh, anna interrupted, her voice low and almost amused. you woke it up.

“What are you talking about?” Ami whispered, her chest tightening.

But anna didn’t answer. And as the faint ripple of energy disappeared into the shattered remains of the seal, Ami felt a chill run down her spine.

THE SPARK BENEATH THE SURFACE

The hallway outside the tactical chamber should have felt safe, like a step away from her failure, but it didn’t. The polished floors and mirrored walls shimmered with the same perfect precision as everything else in Dominion Academy. Perfection that Ami could never reach.

She clutched the fractured shards of her staff, pressing them against her chest as she moved quickly down the corridor, keeping her head low. She didn’t want to give anyone else a chance to see the cracks—not in her weapon, and not in herself.

you’re hiding again, anna’s voice coiled through her thoughts, low and teasing. doesn’t it get exhausting? pretending you care what they think?

“Not now,” Ami whispered, though she had no idea why she bothered. Anna never listened.

oh, sweetie, that’s where you’re wrong. i listen to everything. and guess what? i’m the only one who does.

Ami gritted her teeth, ignoring the faint hum of magic that clung to her staff like an unfinished note. She wasn’t going to entertain anna’s voice. Not after what had just happened in the chamber. Not after Amariel had called her chaos personified.

Her grip on the staff tightened. She needed to fix this. To prove herself. To show Amariel—no, everyone—that she wasn’t just a failure waiting to happen.

THE ARCHIVE AND THE ORDER OF THREADS

Ami’s footsteps took her to Dominion Academy’s central archive, a wide, domed chamber filled with glowing shelves that held Dominion’s magical knowledge. The air hummed softly with contained energy, resonating with the Academy’s very foundation.

Amariel’s voice rang in her memory: “Study the threads. Learn their structure. If you cannot weave properly, you will never control it.”

Control. Everything in Dominion boiled down to control. And Ami didn’t have it. Not yet.

She approached the nearest shelf and placed her fractured staff onto a glowing panel. The archive responded immediately, scanning the shards with a faint pulse of white light.

“Search: advanced containment techniques,” she said softly.

The crystals above her shimmered, their light rearranging into text suspended in midair. Ami skimmed the glowing lines, but the words blurred together, meaningless in her racing mind. She clenched her fists, trying to force the panic away.

“Looking for something specific?”

The voice startled her, and she turned sharply to see a girl leaning casually against one of the shelves. She had pale silver hair and piercing gray eyes, her Dominion uniform immaculate.

“It’s you,” Ami said, her chest tightening.

Eria.

Perfect, unflinching, utterly unbreakable. Eria was everything Dominion valued, everything Ami wasn’t. Her family’s lineage in Dominion magic was as flawless as her spellwork, and she never let anyone forget it.

“What are you doing here?” Ami asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

Eria’s lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I heard about what happened in the chamber.”

Ami’s stomach dropped.

“People are saying it’s only a matter of time before you crack completely,” Eria continued, her tone light but cutting. “Chaos doesn’t belong in Dominion, Ami. Everyone knows that. Except, apparently, you.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Shut up,” Ami muttered, though her voice wavered.

“Make me,” Eria replied, stepping closer. The light from the archive cast sharp lines across her face, making her look even more like a sculpture carved from ice. “Or are you afraid you’ll fail again?”

THE CHALLENGE

Ami’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. She wanted to walk away, to ignore Eria and her perfect smirk, but something inside her stopped her feet from moving.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Ami said, though her voice didn’t quite match the conviction she wanted.

Eria raised an eyebrow. “Then prove it.”

Ami blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“Prove you belong here,” Eria said, her voice sharper now. “Right here. Right now. If you can stabilize a containment lattice, I’ll take it back. Every word I said.”

“And if I can’t?” Ami asked quietly.

Eria’s smile widened, cold and triumphant. “Then you don’t belong here.”

A TACTICAL CONTEST

The challenge was simple in theory: anchor and stabilize a small containment lattice within a sphere of free-flowing magic threads. The sphere hovered between them now, its glowing strands twisting erratically, like wild snakes waiting to strike.

“You first,” Eria said, stepping back with an elegant wave of her hand.

Ami swallowed hard, gripping her fractured staff tightly. Her heart pounded as she raised the staff and summoned the threads, trying to guide them into the lattice.

The first thread responded quickly, aligning itself within the spherical structure. Then the second thread, and the third. But as soon as Ami reached for the fourth, the first began to slip, unraveling the entire lattice.

“Not good enough,” Eria said from behind her, her tone cool and detached. “You’re pulling too hard. Dominion threads require precision, not brute force.”

“I know that!” Ami snapped, though she could feel the tremor in her voice.

She tried again, but the same thing happened—the threads twisted, slipped, and collapsed.

let me help, anna whispered, her voice curling through Ami’s mind like a shadow. you’re holding on too tightly. you need to break it first.

“No,” Ami muttered.

“Talking to yourself again?” Eria asked, her smirk widening.

ERIA’S TURN

Eria stepped forward, brushing past Ami with a confidence that made Ami’s chest tighten. She raised her staff, perfectly polished and glowing faintly with Dominion energy.

The threads responded instantly, aligning themselves into the lattice with flawless precision. It was almost effortless. One by one, the strands locked into place, forming a stable containment lattice that pulsed faintly with blue light.

“There,” Eria said, lowering her staff. “That’s how it’s done.”

Ami clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms.

“Your turn,” Eria said, stepping back to let Ami try again.

AMI’S BREAKING POINT

Ami raised her fractured staff again, trying to block out Eria’s gaze, the harsh light of the archive, the whispers in her mind.

This time, she drew on anna’s influence, letting a small trickle of chaos slip through her control. It wasn’t much—just enough to loosen the rigid threads and guide them into place.

The lattice began to form, its edges glowing faintly. For a moment, it held.

“Oh,” Eria said from behind her, feigning surprise. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

And then the lattice collapsed.

The backlash of magic sent Ami stumbling backward, her staff falling from her hands. Eria didn’t move, didn’t flinch, but her smirk widened.

“Well,” Eria said lightly. “That’s what happens when you mix chaos with perfection.” She stepped closer, her voice lowering to a whisper. “You’ll never belong here, Ami. You’re not one of us.”

AMI’S RESOLVE

Ami didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her chest ached, her vision blurring as she stared at the broken shards of her staff on the floor.

Behind her, Eria’s footsteps echoed faintly as she walked away, her voice trailing behind her. “If you’re smart, you’ll leave before they make you.”

For a long moment, Ami stayed where she was, her hands trembling as she reached for the shards. The faint glow of the containment lattice lingered in the air, like a ghost of what it could have been.

“she’s wrong, you know,” anna said softly, her voice curling like smoke in Ami’s mind. “you don’t need them. you’ve got me.”

Ami closed her eyes, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill. But Anna’s mocking chuckle echoed too loudly to ignore.

And as Ami stood and walked out of the archive, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Anna might be right.

The Whispered Weight

Ami walked through the crystalline corridors of Dominion Academy like a shadow among gleaming perfection. Every step echoed through the hollow halls, bouncing off polished floors and mirrored walls, mocking her with their faultless reflections. Each gleaming surface seemed to ask the same question she couldn’t answer: Why are you still here?

She clutched the shattered shards of her staff tightly in her hands, their jagged edges biting into her palms. They still faintly glowed, pulsing with the remnants of the magic she’d failed to control. It was a reminder of what she was—a fracture in Dominion’s perfect design.

or maybe you’re more than that, anna’s voice whispered dryly in her mind. less a fracture and more the inevitable crack they’ve been too scared to admit exists.

“Leave me alone,” Ami muttered under her breath, her voice trembling.

never, sweetie, anna replied, her tone lilting with mockery. you need me too much. admit it. you’d be boring without me.

“I said, leave me alone!” Her voice rose slightly, sharp enough to echo faintly down the hall.

Silence answered—or so it seemed at first. Then a new voice broke through, light and teasing:

“Talking to yourself again, Fireworks?”

Ami froze mid-step. The nickname set her teeth on edge, and her pulse quickened as she turned toward the sound.

A familiar figure leaned casually against one of the mirrored walls. Her beastlike golden eyes sparkled with amusement, and her tail swished lazily behind her.

Fayra.

“What are you doing here?” Ami asked sharply, the edge in her voice sharper than she intended.

“Well, I was bored,” Fayra said with a shrug, her grin widening. “And something about you storming out of the chamber all moody and dramatic felt… interesting. So I figured I’d tag along. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Ami scowled. “I didn’t ask for you to follow me.”

Fayra tilted her head, her grin fading slightly as she studied Ami more closely. “Yeah, no kidding. But I’m here anyway. So…” She gestured to the shattered shards Ami was still clutching. “What’s that about? Did you actually break your staff? Or is that just a new Dominion trend I missed?”

“None of your business,” Ami muttered, shoving the shards into her bag.

“Oh, come on, Fireworks. Don’t be like that,” Fayra said, stepping closer. Her tone was teasing, but there was something sharper underneath it now, something curious. “I’ve seen plenty of chaos in my time, but you… you’re a special kind of mess, huh?”

“Leave me alone.”

Fayra raised an eyebrow, her grin returning, but this time it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You keep saying that. But I don’t think you actually want to be left alone.”

A DISRUPTION

Before Ami could retort, a faint hum rippled through the air. It was subtle at first—a gentle vibration that made the mirrored walls shimmer faintly—but it grew quickly, pulsing louder and sharper.

“What’s that?” Fayra said, her ears perking up. Her teasing demeanor was gone, replaced by a quiet alertness.

The hum turned into a low rumble, and the walls began to ripple, their perfect reflections twisting and distorting. A sharp crack echoed through the hall, and Ami’s heart leapt into her throat as she saw a fracture spiderweb across one of the mirrors.

Her instincts told her to run, but her feet stayed rooted to the ground. The pulsing energy in the air was familiar—too familiar.

“Ami,” Fayra said, her voice tense now. “What’s going on?”

Before Ami could answer, the crack in the mirror widened, and from the fractured surface, a burst of chaotic energy erupted. The force of it knocked both of them back, and Ami barely caught herself against the wall as shards of light rained down around them.

When she looked up, she saw her.

A new figure stepped through the fractured mirror, her movements fluid, her presence radiating with untamed magic. Her hair flickered with sparks of electricity, and her mismatched eyes glowed with chaotic energy. She smiled, and it wasn’t a kind smile—it was sharp, wild, and full of challenge.

“Well, well,” the girl said, her voice carrying a lilt of mockery. “Look who it is. Dominion’s little failure and her pet beast.”

Fayra growled softly, her claws extending as she stepped in front of Ami. “Kalyn. Should’ve guessed you’d be behind this.”

Kalyn’s grin widened as her magic flared brighter around her. “Surprised to see me? I’m flattered. Really, I am. But I’m not here for you, beastgirl. I’m here for her.”

Her glowing eyes locked onto Ami, and the weight of her gaze made Ami’s chest tighten.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ami said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, don’t play dumb, princess,” Kalyn said, taking a step closer. “You reek of Dominion. All those pretty little rules and perfect little threads. But you’re not like them, are you? No, you’ve got something else. Something... unfinished.”

“Back off,” Fayra snarled, stepping between them. “If you think you’re getting anywhere near her, think again.”

Kalyn laughed, the sound sharp and grating. “Oh, please. I’m not here to hurt her. I’m just here to test something.”

Before either of them could react, Kalyn raised her hand, and a surge of chaotic energy shot toward them. Fayra leapt forward, her claws glowing as she slashed through the attack, scattering it into harmless sparks.

“I warned you,” Fayra said, her voice low and dangerous.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Kalyn said, her grin widening as her magic flared brighter.

THE CLASH

The hallway erupted into chaos. Kalyn’s wild magic lashed out in jagged waves, tearing through the air with erratic force. Fayra met every strike head-on, her claws glowing as she deflected the attacks with sharp, precise movements.

Ami stood frozen at first, her heart pounding as the energy crackled around her. She tried to summon the threads of Dominion magic, but they slipped through her grasp, refusing to form.

you can’t do this on your own, anna’s voice whispered, soft and taunting. let me help.

“No,” Ami muttered, tightening her grip on her staff. “I don’t need you.”

Fayra dodged another attack, but the force of it sent her stumbling backward. “Anytime now, Fireworks!” she called, her voice strained.

Kalyn’s grin widened as she pressed the attack, her magic spiraling around her like a storm. “You can’t win,” she said, her voice dripping with confidence. “Not against this.”

Ami’s chest tightened as she watched Fayra struggle to hold her ground. The chaotic energy was growing stronger, wilder, and the threads of Dominion magic felt useless in her hands.

let me in, anna said, her voice sharper now. you’re going to lose without me. you know that, don’t you?

Ami hesitated. The air around her was suffocating, the weight of the chaos pressing down on her like a tidal wave. She didn’t want to rely on anna. Didn’t want to lose control.

But she didn’t have a choice.

“Fine,” she whispered.

The moment she let go, anna surged forward, her presence flooding Ami’s mind and body. The fractured shards of her staff glowed with chaotic light as her magic spiraled into action.

Kalyn’s next attack collided with Ami’s chaos, the conflicting energies clashing in a dazzling explosion of light. For a moment, everything froze.

And then Kalyn stumbled back, her grin faltering for the first time.

“Well,” Kalyn said, her voice tinged with surprise. “This just got interesting.” 

As soon as she let go, anna’s presence surged forward, flooding her mind and body like a tidal wave. The chaotic energy that had once felt overwhelming now felt alive, vibrant, thrumming with power. Ami’s hands moved on their own, weaving the magic into a chaotic spiral that clashed against Kalyn’s attack and scattered it into harmless sparks.

Kalyn staggered back, her grin faltering. “What the—”

Before she could finish, Ami launched a counterattack, the chaotic energy spiraling around her like a storm. Kalyn tried to fight back, but the force of the magic overwhelmed her, forcing her to retreat.

“This isn’t over,” Kalyn growled before vanishing into the swirling chaos.

The silence that followed was almost deafening. Ami stood frozen, her chest heaving as the chaotic energy around her began to fade. Fayra stared at her, wide-eyed, her claws still glowing faintly.

“Well,” Fayra said after a long moment. “That was… something.”

“It wasn’t me,” Ami said weakly, her voice trembling.

“Uh, yeah, it was,” Fayra said, her golden eyes narrowing. “And we’re definitely going to talk about that.”

Ami didn’t respond. She couldn’t. The weight of what had just happened pressed down on her, suffocating and unrelenting.

At the edges of her mind, anna’s voice curled like smoke, soft and smug. told you it’d be spectacular.