Water.
It’s all around me.
I stop and reach for it—pulling,drawing,commanding.The rain answers.
I shape the torrent into spears—long, sharp, glistening blades of deadly liquid. Twenty of them hover in the air around me, spinning, aimed,waiting.
And just as the Gorganthe is a few feet away—Ireleasethem.
The spears fly, slicing through the rain like lightning, piercing deep into the Gorganthe’s shoulders, chest, legs, and throat. It lets out a roar that splits the sky—no longer just its voice, but the cries of every soul trapped inside.
But instead of flinching, I stand my ground.
I raise both hands to the sky, fingers splayed wide as I call to the storm. The clouds answer. The lightninglistens.
I am the storm.
A single bolt strikes—blinding, violent—and slams into the Gorganthe.
The force rocks the field. Light floods everything for a splitsecond—then Gorganthe explodes into black mist—ripped apart by the power of the lightning.
It’s over. I lower my hands, soaked to the bone, heart thundering in my chest.
My legs give out beneath me, and I drop to my knees, chest heaving. I swallow down the bile rising in my throat, the aftereffects of such powerful magics. Rain pours down around me, washing the battlefield clean. Adrenaline still pumps through my veins, my hands trembling from the surge of magics, of fear, ofeverythingthat just happened.
But I did it.Gods, I did it!
Hands reach for me, steady, firm.
Thane’s hands close around my elbows, lifting me with a strength that’s both gentle and firm. Valen hovers at my side, his gaze sharp, assessing, but there’s something else there too—relief. And pride.
My legs are unsteady, the world spinning slightly, but their presence anchors me. Valen steps closer, and with one hand, gently lifts my chin. His eyes meet mine.
“Well done, girl,” he says. “Very well done.”
Simple words. But from him, they carry weight. Enough to make my heart swell.
I’m splattered with mud, sore all over, claw marks burning across my back. My limbs ache. And yet—I feelpowerful.
A grin pulls at my lips.
As I steady myself, Thane lets his hands drop from my elbows. “How about we get out of this rain?” he says, that same glint returning to his eye.
I nod, still grinning, my hair plastered to my forehead. “Yeah,” I breathe. “Let’s.”
The three of us walk back toward the barracks in silence, the rain still falling in steady sheets.
Valen glances at me as we reach the steps. “You’re dismissedfor the rest of the day,” he says.
“Good,” I mutter. “I’m going to take the longest, hottest bath of my life.”
Before I can step away, Thane says, “Make sure to stop by the infirmary first. Let the healers take a look at those wounds.”
I glance back at him. And there it is again—that flicker of guilt in his eyes. As if my blood is onhishands. I want to tell him it’s not. That I’m fine. That I’m stronger than I was this morning.
But instead I nod and walk away.
The healers work quickly. They close the wounds across my back with careful hands and a quiet efficiency. They apply a cooling balm that seeps deep into the ache.
