“Niko,” he said simply. “Survival and weapons training. I’ll teach you how to use whatever’s in your hand to survive.”
Riona nodded at each of them, nerves twisting in her stomach. She could feel their eyes assessing her, weighing her worth.
Her training began under the relentless guidance of Amara. She moved like water, her staff an extension of herself. She vaulted over obstacles, struck with precision,and flowed seamlessly between offense and defense. Her movements were graceful but deadly, her eyes never missing a beat. Riona struggled to keep up, her strikes clumsy and her blocks slow. Her muscles burned, her breaths came in ragged gasps, but she refused to stop.
“You’ve got instincts,” Amara said, circling her. “But instincts aren’t enough. Trust your body.”
As Amara spoke, memories of Emry surged to the forefront of Riona’s mind. She could almost hear his voice, teasing but encouraging, during their sparring sessions back in Lumora.
“You’re overthinking again,” he’d say, knocking her staff out of her hands with infuriating ease.
“I’m the scholar, Riona, this should be easy for you,” he’d tease.
The memory made her ache, the loss of him cruel and bitter. She gritted her teeth and threw herself back into the fight, channeling the pain into each strike. By the end of the day, she was exhausted. Her body ached, her muscles trembling with fatigue. But for the first time in days, hermind felt clear. As she walked back to the inn, the sights and sounds of the Keep surrounded her, grounding her in the present. She thought of Lumora, of its quiet streets and warm faces, and the friends she had left behind. She thought of Emry and the way his death had driven her here. And she thought of the book, its pull dark and insidious.
When she reached her room, she began packing her belongings, her movements mechanical as she folded her clothes and tucked them into her bag. Her fingers brushed against something, and her stomach twisted.
The book.
It’s plain, unmarked cover stared back at her, the golden trim on its spine catching the dim light. She froze, dread and anger twisting in her chest. Three days. That’s all it had been, and already it felt like it owned her. The promises within its pages had consumed her, making her forget why she’d come here in the first place. She sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the book tightly. Her mind raced with thoughts of Emry, of the person he had believed her tobe. Reading this book, succumbing to its pull—it was a betrayal of everything he had stood for.
“What am I doing?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She wanted to throw it away, to rid herself of its weight. But she couldn’t. Not yet.
With a shaky breath, she tucked it back into her bag and sealed it shut. Tomorrow, she promised herself. Tomorrow, she would focus on her training. On the Circle. On rebuilding herself. And maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to let it go.
Chapter 50
Power Has a Cost
Riona woke early for her second day with the Keep’s Circle, determined to make a good impression. She certainly couldn’t show up late; it would give the illusion that her father’s rank and title made her privileged. It would make life a living hell if they saw her as special; they would never accept her, and any aspirations of becoming part of the unit would end just as fast as they started. She made sure to eat, bathe, and dress quickly, grabbing a black set of leathers and a long-sleeved white shirt that swirled with frosty patterns along the arms. Pulling on her riding boots, she quickly headed out the door, taking in the quiet before the sounds of the Keep surrounded her.
The Keep was loud: harsh yells from blacksmiths, the ringing clash of hammers and anvils striking steel as coals were thrown into roaring fires, and the crackling offlames whipping the cold air into misty clouds. Officers, cadets, and leaders of all kinds gathered supplies and food, their voices mingling in the streets with the clang of metal. The air was heavy with an overwhelming blend of smells: the metallic tang of steel and iron, so strong it clung to her tongue like blood; the acrid stench of sweat lingering in every corner; and the warm, earthy spices wafting from food carts. The scents collided, thick and pungent, making her stomach churn with nausea. It was a sensory assault she hadn’t expected, another reminder that she was far from Lumora and everything familiar. Walking into the large stone building that loomed over the Keep, it stood at its center like a heart, keeping this place alive and beating.
It wasn’t quiet in these early hours though there were no sounds of nature here. Instead, the air was filled with the rhythmic pounding of feet hitting the hard ground in a relentless run, commands being shouted over groans, and the occasional retching of someone pushed past their limits. The voices were unyielding, stripped of any warmth. This place felt intimidating, almost oppressive, but in a waythat mirrored her father in every sense. She was beginning to understand the man he truly was. The one who commanded this place with the same stern authority it demanded. She shook the thoughts aside. The idea of giving her father any sympathy for the cruel man he was ignited a fire in the pit of her stomach, one that burned so fiercely it climbed into her heart, demanding to be extinguished.
She had another day of training ahead of her, and this time it would be with Zara.
She made her way through the halls, passing classrooms until she found herself standing at the center of a massive room. It wasn’t a room. It was something else entirely, looming and sprawling, stretching so high it felt as though the very sky itself had been invited inside. Skylights towered overhead, their glass panes open wide, allowing the crisp air to rush in. The warmth of the sun streaming through, casting a golden glow across the space.
Riona stepped forward, her eyes sweeping over the area in front of her. The space was unlike anything she’dever seen. Trees stood scattered across the room, their placement seemingly random yet somehow intentional, their roots twisting through patches of dirt and moss covered stones. At its center a large pond shimmered and on either side of the room were wide sandpits, their edges uneven and lined with rough, jagged rocks. Between the trees and sandpits, logs were haphazardly laid out, some balanced precariously on others, while above, narrow rope bridges and suspended platforms crisscrossed the open air like a web. Every detail of the room felt alive, untamed, as if it had been plucked straight from the wilderness and brought here.
The enormity of the space was dizzying. Riona tilted her head back, feeling small under the sheer scale of it all. The skylights stretched so far upward that it felt as though the room didn’t end, open to the elements and breathing with life.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. She jumped, spinning around, blood rushing to her ears.
“Gods, you scared the shit out of me!” Riona gasped, clutching at her chest as she turned to see Zara standing calmly behind her. “I didn’t even hear you!” she added, her voice still shaky, her eyes wide.
Zara’s lips curved into a faint smile, “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice as soft as her demeanor. “Light footwork is something of a habit.”
Riona chuckled nervously and nodded. “I can see that,” she said, trying to compose herself.
Zara stepped further into the room, her back turned to Riona as she spoke. “Are you ready for today? We’re going to work on elemental casting. I’m not sure how much you’ve learned in your studies, but it’s an essential skill. Magic isn’t something we can afford to neglect, it’s as important as breathing. The more you wield it, the more it becomes part of you. And the more magic you master, the higher your rank.”
She turned, her gaze locking onto Riona, who shifted uncomfortably under the weight of it. Zara’spresence made her feel small, as if every move, every word, was being measured.
“I’ve learned some,” Riona said finally, keeping her voice steady despite her nerves. “Mostly with rune stones… I don’t have many elemental runes.”
Zara nodded slowly, taking in the response. “I see.
