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"I defeated a Vaelith." She says.

"You surprised a Vaelith." I correct her.

"History will decide."

Selena sits near the window applying healing salve to a bruise along her wrist. Aricia reads at her desk. No one looks up when I enter. Then Rowan points toward my ribs.

"She got you too." She says.

"Who?" I ask.

"The wolf."

"She has a name." I answer.

"Did you ask?"

I remove my training guards. "No."

Rowan smiles. "Then the wolf."

Selena closes her book. "There's salve on the table."

I glance toward her. "Thank you."

"It expires tomorrow."

Of course. Still. I take it.

That evening, I open my notebook. Yesterday's sentence waits at the top of the page. "Inheritance is potential. Mastery is earned." Below it, I write: Skill without understanding becomes assumption.

I consider the next line. Professor Vale's voice returns. You fought alone. My pen touches the paper. "Strength without trust is only isolation wearing armor." I stare at the sentence. It sounds dramatic. Possibly insulting. Definitely true. I underline it once. Then immediately regret underlining it. I leave it there.

Outside my window, the last light fades across the eastern cliffs. Somewhere below, students continue training long after classes have ended. Wood strikes wood. A professor calls for them to begin again.

Tomorrow, the bruises will darken. The assignment will still be unfinished. Nyra will probably ask for a better view. And I will return.

Not because I am ready. Because readiness, apparently, is not required. Only the willingness to learn.

Chapter Five

The bruises are worse this morning. I discover that the moment I attempt to sit up. A dull ache stretches across my ribs, followed by another along my shoulder where one of the second-years had managed to catch me during yesterday's final exercise. Professor Vale had never once raised her voice. She hadn't needed to. My body remembers every lesson anyway.

Across the room, Rowan groans dramatically before even opening her eyes. "I've been murdered."

Selena doesn't look up from the book balanced on her knees. "No." She says.

"I have." Rowan mutters.

"You spoke."

"I'm speaking from beyond the grave."

Aricia closes her notebook with a quiet sigh. "I don't think ghosts complain this much." Her voice is soft.

"They would if they'd been paired with Lucen." Rowan answers.

I smile despite myself as I pull on my uniform. Outside, the first light of dawn paints the towers in pale gold. Somewhere beyond the residence halls, bells begin ringing, announcing the start of another day. Another day. Another class. Another opportunity to discover just how little I know.