Moon Raelia climbed the worn steps toward the four bright spires, the heavy tome clutched against his chest. He was young, younger than any druid who had ever stood here, but he had finished two spirit negotiations and meant to be named the youngest Archdruid the circle had ever crowned. The book held his proof. He hoped it would be enough. Inside the hall, the elders sat in a half ring of stone seats. Moon set the tome on the floor before them and opened it. The shimmering runes uncoiled into living script, naming each spirit he had calmed, each night he had not slept after. An elder leaned forward. Another frowned. The room went very still. From the shadow of a side arch, a young man in a fine cloak watched. A circlet caught the colored light from the spires. The prince stepped closer as Moon spoke, and their eyes met across the chamber. Moon lost his place for one breath, then found it again, warmer than before. "The book speaks true," the eldest said at last. "We will consider your petition. You will be tested at the standing stones at dawn." The prince smiled. Moon bowed, heart loud, and knew the real trial had only just begun.

Moon Raelia left the hall with the elders' words still warm in his ears. A page caught him on the steps and pressed a sealed scroll into his hand. The wax bore a four-element mark. He broke it and read. The prince wanted to see him before dawn. Refusing would be an insult the circle could not shield him from. He followed the page through narrow streets to a carved stone door set into a hillside. It looked like a crypt entrance. Inside, lamps burned low. Prince Drake waited without guards, his cloak thrown over a plain chair. "You came," Drake said. "Good. I won't keep you long." Moon stayed standing. "You summoned me the night before my test." He kept his voice even. "That has a cost." "I know," Drake said. "I need a druid who finishes things when they go wrong. Not one who waits to be old. Pass your test. Then ride with me after. There is a spirit in the western wilds that has killed two of my men." He met Moon's eyes. "I will tell the elders this meeting was mine, not yours. The blame is on the crown." Moon bowed once and walked back into the cold street. The decree was folded inside his coat now, heavy as a stone. He had kept the circle safe and bought himself a debt to a prince. Dawn was three hours away, and his hands would not stop shaking.

Back in his small room, Moon could not sleep. He sat on the floor and turned a twig doll in his hands. Someone had made it like a little prince, with a paper crown and bark for armor. He had bought it from a child years ago and never thrown it out. Tonight it felt heavier than it should. Dawn came gray and cold. The standing stones rose from the wet grass, their runes glowing soft blue. The elders stood in a half circle, arms crossed. A bright gemstone sat in the center stone, marking the test ground. Moon's hands shook. He pressed them flat against his thighs and breathed. Then boots crunched behind him. Drake walked into the circle with a jeweled sword across his back. The elders stiffened. "He rides with me after," Drake said. "But first he passes. Test him." The elders called the spirit. It rose from the soil like black smoke with teeth. Moon felt his throat close. He thought of the doll in his pocket. He thought of two men dead in the wilds. He lifted his hands and spoke to the earth first. A box of stone rose around the spirit's feet. Then water, sealing the sides. Then fire, capping the top. Then wind, pressing it small. Four walls. Four locks. The spirit screamed and folded inward until it was a knot of smoke no bigger than a fist. The elders did not move. One finally nodded. It was not approval. It was acknowledgment. Drake stepped close while they conferred. "You finished it," he said. Moon looked up at him, still shaking, and kissed him once, quick, on the mouth. Drake did not flinch. "After," Moon said. "I owe you after." He walked back to the elders with the trapped spirit cupped in his hands. They had seen the kiss. They had seen the boxes. Their faces gave nothing. "We will speak," the eldest said. Not yes. Not no. Moon bowed. The test was passed. Everything else had just gotten harder.