Chapter 8 

(The Principal's Office)

Azura stood before the glass doors, staring at the golden plate with "Principal's Office" inscribed on it. She glanced at Ms. Mary beside her, who looked more concerned than usual. As she handed Azura her ID card, her voice carried a hint of urgency.

"Just say sorry and don't argue with her, okay?" Ms. Mary's eyes pleaded for cooperation.

Azura nodded, though her heart wasn't in it. "Alright."

With a deep breath, she opened the door, stepping inside cautiously. "Permission to enter?" she asked, though she was already halfway in.

"You're already inside, girl," came the crisp voice of Ms. Dyana, her eyes still fixed on a stack of reports in front of her. The principal barely looked up as Azura closed the distance between them. The tension in the air was palpable, but it wasn't fear that Azura felt—it was annoyance. Tolerating this impossible woman was just another hurdle she didn't want to deal with.

Finally, Ms. Dyana lifted her gaze, adjusting her oversized glasses as they rested precariously on the bridge of her nose. Her sharp eyes bore into Azura, a look of complete exasperation etched across her face. "So, you're the one responsible for the chaos in yesterday's lab. Correct?"

Azura straightened, her usual defiance bubbling up, but she bit it back. This was not the time to get into a confrontation. "Yes," she admitted, her voice steady, trying to mask her irritation.

Ms. Dyana sighed, setting the papers aside. "Do you have any idea how much damage you've caused? The entire lab is in ruins, and several students were traumatized by the... event. Care to explain?"

Azura clenched her fists at her sides. She could explain, but would it make any difference?

"It happened due to an accident," Azura said, hoping Ms. Dyana would believe her.

"Accidentally?" Ms. Dyana's eyebrows shot up, skepticism dripping from her voice. She clearly wasn't buying the vague excuse. "Explain further."

Azura shifted uncomfortably. "I was trying to perform an experiment when... it went wrong."

Ms. Dyana's eyes narrowed. "In the teacher's absence?"

Azura faltered for a moment, realizing how bad it sounded. She nodded reluctantly, knowing there wasn't much else she could say. "Yes, I didn't mean for it to happen."

The principal leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest. "Magic, especially in this institution, is not to be taken lightly, Azura. You're aware of the consequences if control isn't maintained, correct?"

Azura nodded, trying to maintain her composure. The truth was, she wasn't afraid of Ms. Dyana, but the constant supervision and rules about her powers were suffocating.

Azura's breath hitched as she felt the cold metal press against her back, and in a flash, agony tore through her body. The spider-like device dug into her skin, burrowing deeper until it latched onto her bone. A strangled scream ripped from her throat, her knees buckling under the sheer weight of the pain. Blood trickled from the wound, staining her skin as her vision blurred.

"Why did you..." Azura managed through gritted teeth, struggling to form words as the searing pain took over. But before she could finish, Ms. Dyana sat calmly back in her chair, her expression as cold and detached as ever.

"We can't trust you," Ms. Dyana's voice was sharp, laced with a cold indifference. "Especially with those destructive powers like yours. What happens if you lose control again? What if you take someone's life next time?"

The words were a dagger to her chest, the condescension and distrust cutting deeper than the device embedded in her back. Azura's heart pounded with a mixture of fury and humiliation, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She hated that feeling—the weight of being labeled dangerous, of being treated like a ticking time bomb.

This wasn't just pain—it was a reminder of everything she feared and despised about herself. The device, meant to suppress her powers, was nothing compared to the suffocating belief that she was a danger to everyone around her. It wasn't just Ms. Dyana who saw her that way but everyone around.

Azura stumbled out of the office, her legs weak and the pain still radiating from her back. She barely noticed Ms. Mary rushing toward her until the woman's voice broke through the haze of her agony.

"What happened? Why did you scream? Did she use that on you again?" Ms. Mary's voice was filled with concern, her eyes scanning Azura's pale face and trembling body.

Azura met her gaze but couldn't find the words to respond. She didn't want to admit it—didn't want to show the vulnerability that had been forced upon her. But Ms. Mary's worried expression only deepened as she saw the subtle signs: the slight tremble in Azura's hands, the red-rimmed eyes, the faint stain of blood soaking through the back of her shirt.

Ms. Mary took a step closer, lowering her voice, "She put the restraint on you, didn't she?"

Azura simply nodded, her throat tight. She hated showing weakness in front of anyone, but this time the pain was too raw, too overwhelming to hide. Ms. Mary's face twisted in pain.

The Sorcerer's Seal, a rarely used device, was designed for one purpose: to suppress and seal the powers of dangerous individuals. It was typically reserved for criminals of the highest order, those whose magic posed a threat to entire realms. Crafted with ancient, forbidden sorcery, the device resembled a delicate spider, its metallic limbs latching onto the victim's flesh. At its core sat a pearl-like gem, pulsating with dark energy, designed to burrow deep into the bone.

When the Sorcerer's Seal was applied, the pain was excruciating. It was not just physical torment, but a sensation that reached into the very essence of the soul, severing one's connection to their power.

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The training grounds of Valoria were filled with the rhythmic clang of steel and the grunts of exertion. Rylan, shirtless and sweat-drenched, moved with the deadly precision of a warrior honed in battle. Every swing of his sword was a display of raw power and skill, his strikes as swift as they were lethal. The sun bore down on his muscled frame, its golden light highlighting the tattoo of a dragon etched across his left shoulder.

The dragon, with its intricately detailed scales and fierce, coiled body, seemed almost alive. With every flex of his muscles, the creature rippled and shifted, its form mimicking the intensity of Rylan's movements.

"Faster!" Rylan barked at his sparring partner, his voice carrying a command as lethal as his blade.

His next move came down in a deadly arc, crashing into his opponent's shield with such force that the man staggered backward, struggling to keep his balance. Rylan, barely breaking a sweat despite the intensity, raised his blade again, ready to deliver another strike. But before he could, a familiar voice broke through the clamor of the battlefield.

"Rylan," Eric called out, his voice tight with urgency.

Rylan froze mid-strike, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto his friend's face.

Eric took a deep breath, stepping closer. "It's Azura. She's been called to Ms. Dyana's office."

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