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Nyra leans toward me. "She means overconfident." She whispers.

"I know."

Rowan smiles. "I like her."

"You've known her for twelve seconds," I say.

"Long enough."

The doors close. A woman steps onto the central floor. Medusa. That becomes obvious the moment she turns toward us. Her eyes are pale grey, almost colorless, with thin rings of silver around the pupils. Long black hair is braided tightly down her back. No jeweled headpiece. No ornamentation. Only a scar crossing the left side of her jaw and a dark training uniform with the Academy crest stitched over the heart. She carries no weapon. She does not need one.

The room quiets before she speaks.

"Professor Seraphine Vale." Her gaze moves across us slowly. "I do not teach combat." A few students exchange confused looks. Professor Vale notices.

"I teach consequence." She walks between the silver rings. "Combat is not the act of striking first." Her attention settles briefly on a wolf near the aisle. "It is not the ability to endure the most pain." A vampire student straightens. "It is not spectacle." Several first-years lower their eyes. "Combat is the management of consequence." She stops at the center. "What happens if you move? What happens if you hesitate? What happens if your opponent is stronger? What happens if they are weaker? What happens if someone beside you makes the wrong choice?" Her silver-ringed eyes sharpen. "And what happens when that person is you?"

No one answers. Professor Vale nods once. "Good." She gestures toward the rings. "Pair yourselves."

The room erupts into movement. Nyra immediately looks at me. I am about to nod when Professor Vale speaks again. "Not with someone you know." The room slows. "Comfort teaches habits." She folds her hands behind her back. "Discomfort reveals them." Wonderful.

I am paired with Rowan. She walks into our ring grinning.

"This feels fortunate." She says.

"For whom?" I ask.

"Me."

"Confident."

"Always." She rolls her shoulders. "You?"

"Usually." I admit.

"Better."

Across the hall, Nyra is paired with a broad-shouldered vampire boy whose expression suggests he expected someone more physically intimidating. She notices. Her mouth tightens slightly. Not fear. Annoyance. Good.

Professor Vale remains in the center. "For the next sixty seconds, you will not move." Several students glance at the weapons on the walls. "You will observe your partner." Silence. "Identify their probable inheritance." A few looks of disbelief. "Their likely physical advantage." More interest. "Their likely magical advantage." Professor Vale begins walking. "Their most visible weakness and the most dangerous assumption you could make about them."

That changes the room. Students look at one another differently. Not as opponents. As problems.

Rowan plants her feet. Her golden-brown eyes remain fixed on mine.

Wolf. Obviously. Broad stance. Strong legs. Loose shoulders. She appears restless even while standing still. Her fingers twitch once at her side. Impatient. Fast. Probably stronger than she looks.

The bell sounds. One minute begins. I study her breathing. Steady. Too steady for someone who appears this restless. Interesting. She studies me too. Not my face. My hands. My posture. The weight distribution across my feet. Neither of us smiles now.

The bell rings again. Professor Vale points toward our ring. "Miss Vaelith." Of course. "What is your partner?" She asks.

"Wolf." I answer.

"Specific." She demands.

"Heightened sensory inheritance. Physical amplification. Likely faster reaction time than baseline human or fae."

"Likely?" The Professor repeats.