Lilieth once again stood in the middle of the forest clearing. In front of the young mage was Sibeiya, glaring fiercely at her like she was trying to burn a hole through Lilieth’s head with just her eyes. The two hadn’t seen each other since their duel three days prior. Suffice to say it didn’t seem like time had made her more amicable towards Lilieth.

  Spearman sat on the tree stump with a fresh mug of coffee in hand. “Grits has been teaching you technique; Albus has been teaching you spellcraft. Now, what do you think Sibeiya here will be teaching you? Hm? Take a guess.”

  Lilieth narrowed her eyes at him. “... Master Spearman, where were you during Sir Albus’ lesson yesterday? I didn’t see you.”

  “That’s a horrible guess, neskatxo. You’re awful at this. Your turn, Sibeiya.”

  “To teach her what getting beat up feels like, yeah?”

  Spearman paused for a bit, then shrugged. “Close enough. You may begin.”

  “What?” Lilieth said.

  Sibeiya rushed in and swung her wooden spear. Lilieth parried the strike with her own practice blade, using the violet moon style she learned from Grits. She took a few steps back, creating distance between them. Sibeiya smirked at her.

  “Looks like you did learn some things, huh?” she said. “Violet moon—perfect for a novice!”

  Lilieth ignored Sibeiya’s condescending comment and yelled at Spearman, “what’s supposed to be the lesson here?!”

  “Practicum,” the Basandran replied listlessly while yawning. “I know that tall fuck is too gentle for his own good, and that good-for-nothing prankster prefers to have fun. What you need is experience. Thus, this rude brat,” he gestured to Sibeiya, “will help you with that. Use what you’ve learned. First to drop their weapon—or die—loses.”

  “Did you just say die?”

  Lilieth barely had any time to react to her master’s answer before Sibeiya lunged in again. The Shebauno girl released her thrusts like a barrage of arrows, the wooden weapons clacked sharply as Lilieth parried the strikes. Some of the hits went through, grazing past Lilieth’s cheek.

  “Good!” Sibeiya growled. “At least you’re not completely useless!”

  Lilieth’s jaw tightened. Ignore her. Breathe. Focus on remembering the styles. She slipped into the violet moon’s second stance, better equipped to defend. Even still, keeping up with Sibeiya’s lightning-fast movements was taxing. Lilieth swung downwards, deflecting the spearhead to the ground. With Sibeiya’s balance shifted, Lilieth was able to swing at her shoulder, but Sibeiya blocked with a flick of her wrist.

  “Oh, cute—second stance. Did Grits pat your head when you learned that?”

  Lilieth clenched her teeth and swung again, this time, carelessly forgoing the stances she learned. Sibeiya, a grin on her face, clashed her spear directly with Lilieth’s blade. She pushed, overwhelming the young mage with brute strength. Lilieth staggered back, her arms still feeling the vibrations.

  “Is that supposed to be you trying hard?” Sibeiya continued to taunt, her voice oily with superiority. “Oh, Honor above, that’s depressing.”

  “What is your problem with me?” Lilieth snapped. “Is this about our duel? The one you lost?”

  The Shebauno’s eye twitched. “Lost? You were given a handicap. Had it been an actual fight, you’d have stood no chance!”

  “That was no handicap. Those were the duel’s rules. You lost—simple as that.”

  “Please. Spearman isn’t even willing to train you himself. The three of us had to go through all his brutal training, and you get to have it easy?”

  Lilieth couldn’t help but scoff. “Easy? Is that it? That’s rich coming from a Shebauno of all people! You dung beetle!”

  “What does that even mean?!” Sibeiya’s eyes sharpened to a point. “Says the brat that can come back from the dead! You’re not even supposed to be alive right now! That doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

  “You’re a brat, too!”

  Lilieth felt lightheaded with all the blood rushing up to her brain.

  Fair? As if you have any idea what I’ve been through! What’s been done to me!

  Lilieth charged in, swinging with as much force as she could muster. Sibeiya blocked the strike confidently, knowing she’d win in a contest of strength. Anticipating that, Lilieth released a hand from the grip of her sword, then chanted: “[Enhance Strength I]!”

  In an instant, power filled Lilieth’s body—a heat that spread throughout every muscle. Her heartbeat accelerated, as if trying to keep up. Sibeiya’s eyes widened at the sudden chant, and she was unable to evade Lilieth’s fist as she struck the desert girl’s stomach.

  Sibeiya stumbled back, nearly dropping her spear, then glared at Lilieth with a mix of anger and confusion in her eyes.

  Enhance Strength I—a spell Lilieth saw the Martialmage Markosh use when he attacked her. If she focused deep inside herself, she could see his spells resting within her, as if they were hers all along.

  In response to seeing that, Sibeiya laughed mockingly. “Not only immortality but also having multiple Blessings? Now, who’s the real cheater between us, huh?!”

  “You shut up! As if you’ve ever had to work for that strength of yours!”

  “You’re just relying on your memory, your spells, your immortality—cheater!”

  “You’re the cheater!”

  The two rushed in, screaming at the top of their lungs. Both of them recklessly swung their weapons at each other, and—

  “Enough.”

  A powerful impact slammed against them, knocking the girls to the ground and shattering their wooden weapons into pieces. Lilieth’s ears rang, her bones vibrated, her blood halted. She skidded across the ground, accumulating scrapes on her arms and knees. Behind her, the trees were nearly uprooted by the very same force, sweeping across the entire forest like a shockwave. Birds were flying into the air, their cries of distress carried by the winds.

  When Lilieth regained her bearings, she saw Guillem Spearman standing, his foot pressed firmly on the ground, cracks surrounding the point of impact. Both her and Sibeiya stared incredulously at the sight. What in the twelve heavens did he just do?

  Spearman let out a long sigh. “I would have wanted to say that you both were acting like children, but I forgot you are children.”

  Sibeiya got up on one knee and pleaded, “Master, I—”

  “Silence, lotsagabea,” he interrupted, his voice so sharp it made even Sibeiya’s shoulders twitch. “Ridiculous. While this petty squabble of yours persists, you will both stagnate, and you’ll learn nothing. I will not have you wasting my time. You two will settle this, firmly and properly ... through a duel.”

  Lilieth furrowed her brows. “Settle a fight ... with more fighting?”

  “You hotheads aren’t going to settle down any other way. However, I will have no playground squabbles on my land. If you are to settle things, it will be through formal duel. It shall be a best of three, and you, neskatxo, have already won the first round. We shall have two more duels.”

  “Two more duels ... ?” Sibeiya croaked out.

  “That is correct,” Spearman continued. “It will not be counted as a proper duel if it is not officiated either by me or by one who bears Artemest’s archon sigil. She who wins at least two duels shall be declared the winner. This includes the previous duel of which Lilieth was victorious. You have until the end of this year’s Azalerra tournament. Once it is over and a winner for the tournament has been announced, then this contract is null and void. Before then, you may choose to hold a duel at any time so long as the other party agrees to the duel and an officiator—or their representative—is present and validates it. During the duel, spells are allowed to be used so long as they are not direct attack spells. You must defeat your opponent whilst wielding a weapon in either hand. Attacking them with attack spells or whilst unarmed will result in an instant loss—unless said attack was performed by throwing said weapon at your opponent; in which case, it is considered valid. If Sibeiya loses, then her graduation from my tutelage is cancelled, and she shall remain in training for one more year. If Lilieth loses, then her training shall stop immediately and indefinitely. That is all.”

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  A silence befell the forest clearing as the two took in everything that Spearman said. With mouths agape, Lilieth and Sibeiya stared at their master. He took a sip from his mug, then frowned. “Coffee’s cold now. Infuriating. Who do I blame for this?”

  Sibeiya stood up, straightening her back. “Master, I request a duel with Lilieth this instant.”

  Spearman then took a large sip of his drink. “Denied.”

  The Shebauno blinked. “Why?”

  “Because I have a mission most important to give to the both of you.” He overturned the mug, and a single drop of coffee fell out. “You two must go to Artemest, together, and buy me more coffee beans.”

  “What?” both girls said in unison.

  “You aren’t deaf, and you have perfect memory. I don’t have to repeat myself—how dare you?” He turned to leave, then stopped. “Oh, and if you two fight each other outside of a duel, I’m kicking the both of you out. Just so you know in advance as well, don’t even consider doing it in secret. I will always know.”

  Spearman left the forest, leaving the two girls alone.

  “Don’t walk so close to me.”

  “I wasn’t. You’re the one drifting.”

  Lilieth and Sibeiya walked through the streets of the city, side by side, and adamantly refused to look each other in the eyes.

  “I am not drifting,” Sibeiya said.

  “You absolutely are.”

  “...”

  “Look. You’re drifting again.”

  “You can shut up, yeah? For just five seconds?”

  The other citizens glanced at them as they passed—an irritable Shebauno girl marching with a scowl that could slice stone walking alongside a dark-haired mage with the face of someone trying very hard to not throw her companion into the nearest canal. Market stalls bustled with noise, the smell of baked bread drifted through the air, and street performers played flutes on the corner. None of it soothed the tension hanging between the two girls, unfortunately.

  After several long moments of trudging down the cobblestone street, Lilieth sucked in a breath and finally spoke, her voice stiff.

  “We should … try to get along, at least for this errand.”

  Sibeiya whipped around, glaring. “Why? So you can brag about being ‘the mature one’?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You were thinking it.”

  “Gods, you’re impossible.”

  They continued walking, weaving through crowded midday streets. Lilieth couldn’t get her mind off of their petty argument—how her own composure was shattered so easily. She wasn’t this easy to rile up before, was she?

  Something changed in her. She just couldn’t pin down exactly what it was. Where did the meek and timid Lilieth Lasvenn go?

  “The thing you said earlier,” Lilieth began carefully. “About me ... ‘not being supposed to be alive’ ...”

  She saw Sibeiya’s shoulders stiffen in her peripheral vision.

  “... Nevermind,” Lilieth said. “Forget it.”

  “What do you mean forget it?” Sibeiya asked, her voice more subdued than before.

  “I said forget it. It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not ... tch. Fine.”

  A painful, uncomfortable silence followed as the two continued their walk, finally drifting a distance apart from each other.

  “Oh? If it isn’t Sibeiya and Lilieth!”

  The two of them stopped and turned around, seeing Grits approaching with a big wooden box in his hands. “Happy to see you two getting along!”

  They both glared at him.

  “... Okay,” he said in a low cautious voice. “Not getting along. Got it. So, what are you two doing here?”

  “Errands for Master,” Sibeiya answered. “Coffee beans this time.”

  “Mm. Of course.” Grits nodded.

  “What about you?” Lilieth asked. “What’s with the box?”

  “Oh, this. It fell from a passing carriage. I know the owner—an elderly merchant setting up shop over at Artemest square. Figured I should go and hand it over to her real quick.”

  “That’s a pretty far distance,” Lilieth said, taking note of Grits’ appearance. A dirty and worn attire, skin covered in sweat—he was probably fresh from training. Visibly exhausted.

  “Ah!”

  Another voice interrupted. The three turned to see a young girl wearing an oversized hat pointing at them.

  “It’s Grits! And Sibei! And, uh, the weird girl from the library!” The girl in the hat called out.

  “I have a name.”

  Lilieth spoke under her breath as the young girl approached, though she either didn’t seem to hear or was ignoring Lilieth entirely. She had a wide smile plastered on her face as she stopped in front of the half-highlander.

  “Grits! You haven’t been home in a while! You’re going around helping people again, aren’t you?”

  Grits straightened himself and gave her a bow. “Lady Cynthia—it has been some time. My apologies for troubling you. But ... what are you doing outside and without guards? Your father will scold you again, My Lady.”

  Cynth’s smile faltered for a second. “... Right! Right, yes ...”

  The energy she had deflated in an instant, and her gaze dropped downward. Lilieth couldn’t help but feel intrigued, especially remembering how Cynth described Grits in the library.

  He’s sort of my brother, I guess. I’ve known him all my life.

  Grits didn’t seem to act that way towards her. And furthermore ...

  “... Cynthia?” Lilieth muttered, going through the records of Artemest’s history in her head. She looked through page after page in her mental library, searching for a specific name. “... Cynthia Kastrionis?”

  “Geh!” Cynth stiffened up. “How do you know my name, weird library lady?!”

  “... I still have a name.”

  Cynthia Kastrionis—the youngest child of Hektor Kastrionis, the archon of Artemest. Valery’s younger sister—and heir apparent to Artemest.

  “This little girl is the next archon … ?” Lilieth muttered.

  “You’re little, too!” Cynth pouted.

  “Lady Cynthia, that’s impolite,” Grits said. “Ah, I can’t stay here long. I have to bring this to the merchant.”

  “I’ll go with you!” Cynth said.

  “But, My Lady, you have to return to the estate. It’s not safe for you to be out here without guards.”

  “But you’ll be with me!”

  “Lady Cynthia, please.”

  Cynth pouted but eventually crossed her arms and looked away from him. “Fine, fine! Just go already.”

  Grits bowed. “Thank you, My Lady. Sibei, can I ask you to escort her home?”

  “What about Master’s errand?”

  “It’s not urgent, right? Please.”

  Sibeiya sighed. “Fine, but you owe me one.”

  Grits smiled warmly and continued on his way. Sibeiya was already walking in a different direction, but Cynth stayed in place, watching Grits leave.

  “It’s always ‘Lady Cynthia this’, ‘Lady Cynthia that’. Why does he call me that? It’s like I’m not even ...” Cynth pouted even harder, then turned to the young mage, hands on her waist. “Gah! Enough about him! You! What’s your name?”

  “I’ve told you already. It’s Lilieth.”

  “Lilibeth!”

  “Lilieth.”

  “You’re a student of Sir Spearman, right?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’ve also already told you this.”

  “Are you Blessed?”

  Lilieth blinked. “... Yes, why?”

  Cynth beamed with a smile. “That’s great!”

  “What are you two doing?” Sibeiya asked, walking back to fetch them after noticing that the two weren’t following her. “I’d rather not be yelled at by Master for being late, you know? What’s going on here?”

  “Sibei! You’re Blessed, too!” Cynth pointed at her. “Even better!”

  Sibeiya tilted her head. Lilieth was just as confused. The three of them began slowly walking towards the center of the city, where the Kastrionis estate was.

  Cynth continued, “You see, father and Valery won’t let me become Sir Spearman’s student. ‘You can’t even lift a sword’, they say.” The mockery in her voice was rich with spite.

  “That’s because you can’t.” Sibeiya crossed her arms.

  “And I was under the impression you didn’t like Master Spearman anyways,” Lilieth added.

  “I don’t! But, you know ...” Cynth looked down, then shook her head. “Anyways, I can’t use a sword! So, that’s out of the question. But! What if I get a Blessing instead! Then, I can become his student, right? And he’ll teach me how to fight!”

  Sibeiya scoffed, but Lilieth decided to respond seriously. “You can’t simply choose to get a Blessing. It just happens at random.”

  “Well, I’ll get a Blessing!” Cynth said confidently. “If I pray real hard, I’m sure to get one!”

  “You can’t—” Lilieth started, then simply sighed. She had a feeling it’d be pointless to argue with the child on this. “Alright. Sure.”

  “Hey, so, which of the twelve Blessings should I aim for?” Cynth asked. “Maybe the one that makes the spark-looking things? Uh, what’s it called ...”

  “Element magic?” Lilieth said.

  “Yes, yes! Oh, this is a good opportunity! Tell me what all the Blessings are! I wanna know which one to get.”

  Lilieth rubbed her forehead, much to Sibeiya’s amusement. Still, the girl was nobility, so it was probably wise not to anger her too much. “The Blessings are Lunar, Healing, Shield, Sculpt, Illusion, Elemental, Martial, Divination, Sky, Counter, and Familiar. Did you get all that?”

  Much to Lilieth’s surprise, Cynth seemed to be listening intently. In fact, she was counting them on her fingers—then stopped in confusion. “Wait, that’s only eleven. What’s the twelfth one?”

  “There is no twelfth Blessing,” Lilieth answered. “There are only eleven.”

  “But there are twelve Greater Gods, right? I thought they gave the Blessings?”

  “That’s correct. There used to be a twelfth Blessing,” Lilieth settled into a lecturing pose as she read through the books in her head. “It was called Psychic—the magic of the mind.”

  “What happened to it?” Sibeiya, surprisingly, was the one who asked. She was keeping her eyes forward, still avoiding eye contact with Lilieth, but it seemed she was listening.

  “‘The Abandonment’ happened,” Lilieth answered. “It was around thirteen hundred years ago. Nobody knows why, but in a single night, every single Psymage went insane—screaming, clawing their own faces off. Those that survived with their wits intact found that they could no longer use their magic ... at least not without losing their minds again. Ever since then, no one has ever been Blessed with Psychic magic.”

  “W-why did that happen?” Cynth asked, face growing pale. Perhaps the young lady didn’t have the stomach for scary stories.

  “They say that the god of the Psymages, Sharrahs the Harmony, abandoned them. But no one really knows.”

  Lilieth put a hand to her own chest, remembering Eulalie, her own god, who had abandoned her as well. And yet, she kept her Blessings. In fact, she somehow gained more.

  —Lilieth heard screaming.

  She turned sharply, her gaze following all the fingers down the street that were pointing upwards. A panic had painted the faces of the common folk.

  A shadow swept over them. Then another. And another.

  Lilieth stopped. “... Oh, bloody hells.”

  Red wyverns. Dozens of them.