“Always,” I mutter, pulling on my boots and tucking my sword at my side.
The training yard is cool as I draw my blade, and the familiar hum of magic sparks beneath my skin. Golden lines, like lightning trapped in veins, creep along my arms. I feel the warmth spread, the light vibrating in rhythm with my heartbeat.I have been working on my magic with Asbel and Lioran over the last week—they’ve been teaching me control.
Torin moves beside me, a calm presence. “Show me what you’ve got. Sword first.”
We clash, the sound of steel ringing across the quiet courtyard. Every strike tests my reflexes, every block reminds me of the control I need over the magic within me. My skin lights again as I summon bursts of magic, flames of sunlight barely restrained from flaring out of control.
A few times, sparks shoot too far, a sharp flare of brightness sending a heatwave across my arms. I flinch back, heart hammering, the fear of losing control still raw in me.
“Careful. Remember, it’s yours, but it can burn you if you let it.”
I nod, swallowing hard. “I won’t. I can control it.”
After another hour, I’m dripping sweat, and my muscles are trembling when he finally lowers his sword.
“You’ve improved,” Torin says. “But keep your focus. One slip, and you could burn everything around you.”
I try to push my next question aside, but it comes out anyway. “When can I see Serenya?”
His expression doesn’t change. “She’s still resting,” he says simply, leaving it at that.
I clench my jaw, swallowing the frustration.Of course.Resting. No matter how many times I ask, the answer never changes. I don’t know why I expected anything different.
We train the whole day, only stopping for lunch. By evening, training concludes, and I stumble to the dining hall on weak legs. Lioran and Asbel are already there. The smell ofroasted meat and spiced bread fills the room as I take my seat next to them.
Asbel glances up first. “You survived, then.”
“Barely,” I say, taking a seat beside them.
Lioran lifts his gaze, eyes flicking over me. “I was starting to wonder if Torin decided to finish what the trials started.”
I grunt, reaching for the bread.
Asbel returns to eating. Between bites, he says, “He’s been on edge lately. Torin, I mean.”
That gets my attention. I pause mid-bite.
“He hides it well,” Asbel continues, lowering his voice. “But something is off.”
I say nothing, but my thoughts immediately go to Serenya.
Dimitri had taken her to a healer. He said she’d be fine. But…what if he had taken too long? What if she actually isn’t okay?
My stomach twists, but I push the thought away. No. She has to be fine. I can’t afford to think otherwise. Not now.
If I’m going to survive the final trial—if I’m going to be worth anything at all—I need to get stronger. That’s the only thing I can control.
I force myself to keep eating, though my appetite has abandoned me.
After a while, Lioran leans back, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, if we are done here, we should continue this in my chamber. To celebrate Koen finally being cleared by the nurse, of course. I’ve got a card deck and some of the best faewine.”
“Dangerous combination,” Asbel mutters.
“Exactly,” Lioran says, grinning at me. “I think it’s time we get to know you better. We can see if your luck at cards matches your charm…or your clumsiness. I hope it's neither.” He pauses, lips pursed. “On second thought, for my sake, I hope it matches both.”
I narrow my eyes, but nod. “Fine.”
The fire in Lioran’s chamber crackles, throwing shadows across the stone walls. The wine is strong, burning down my throat and settling heavy as I stare at the cards in my hands. But I can’t focus on the game. My mind is on Serenya—it’s always on her. It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen her. Over two weeks since she stepped through my burning magic to save me, and collapsed into my arms afterward. Over two weeks since I watched Dimitri carry her away from me.
