The morning greeted me with a soft chill that contrasted with the warmth of having slept beside my friends the night before. I could still recall Neyra’s steady breathing, Velka’s faint murmurs in her sleep, and Caelia’s silent vigilance. For a fleeting moment, it grounded me.

  Velka was already awake, a cup of tea in her hand. She smiled—lighter than last night, though there was still a flicker in her eyes I couldn’t quite read.

  —Ready for another day of emotional warfare? —she teased, raising an eyebrow.

  —I wouldn’t call it “ready,” —I answered with a tired smile—. But I’m prepared. And… I’m skipping the morning bath. Irhena’s going to wring out every last drop of energy from me.

  —Such dedication. —Velka looked me over, as if she were measuring more than just my words—. I don’t care if you come back smelling of powder or sweat, as long as you come back whole.

  I nodded in silence, sipping the tea. Its warmth soothed me for only an instant.

  When I arrived at the training grounds, Irhena was already there. Her transformation burned with that deep red that seemed to consume the very air around her. The flowing skirt of her uniform rippled like living flames, and in that desolate space, she was absolute.

  —You’re on time —she said calmly, though her voice was as sharp as a blade—. Today I don’t just want you to unleash your anger. I want you to understand it.

  —Understand it? —I asked, a shiver running down my spine.

  —Yes. You’re not just a blade swinging wildly, Lyss. You’re more than that. But you still let the emotion drag you instead of mastering it. Transform.

  I drew in a deep breath, letting the fire rise. It burned across my skin, branding me with its heat until my uniform materialized. I pressed a hand to my abdomen and, with a strangled cry, dug my fingers into the scar. Pain tore through me like lightning, and from my belly emerged the sword—Blood of the Crown, trembling in rhythm with my heart.

  Irhena smiled, fascinated.

  —So that’s your demon. Painful and beautiful… almost intimate.

  I had no time to respond. She lunged at me, and I barely managed to block the strike with my blade. The impact rattled through my bones.

  —Again! —she demanded, and her voice was a command I could not ignore.

  We clashed again and again. Every strike I made was brushed aside with insulting ease, every dodge of hers a lesson veiled in disdain. With each swing, the pain in my chest sharpened, reminding me that I could still die if I lost control.

  —Don’t fight on impulse —she said when I barely managed to graze her with the sword’s tip—. Your anger isn’t a blind fire. It’s a river. Control the current, or it will drown you.

  I gritted my teeth, lunging again. Irhena parried lazily, caught me by the throat, and slammed me into the ground. The air was ripped from my lungs.

  —You’re close… but not enough. —She leaned down, her golden eyes locking onto mine—. Your problem isn’t strength. It’s that you still won’t accept what you are.

  She released me and stepped back, then sat cross-legged on the ground. The crimson folds of her skirt spread around her like a mantle of flame.

  —Now sit.

  Reluctantly, I obeyed, still gasping.

  —Close your eyes —she ordered—. We’re going to train something more important than your blade again.

  I did as told, trembling.

  —Think of your anger as something physical, something you can recognize. The sword is not it. As i said yesterday It’s only the channel. Find what truly represents it.

  The images struck me in waves. Neyra screaming my name in the snow. Velka’s blood slick on my hands. The sound of my heart stopping. And between it all, a fleeting spark: something small and light in my fingers, gone before I could grasp it.

  —What do you see? —Irhena asked, her eyes still closed.

  —I… I don’t know —I whispered in frustration—. Only fragments. Nothing clear.

  —Then keep searching. —Her voice was calm, merciless—. Until you find it, your anger will always be stronger than you.

  I snapped my eyes open, breath ragged. A thin trickle of blood slid from my nose, my hands shook. Irhena rose with her usual composure, watching me as though I were an unfinished experiment.

  —You have two days to find it. Tomorrow I leave on a mission. Don’t lose your pace, Lyss. Train alone. Because when I return… I want to see more than cuts and fury.

  She turned to leave. I couldn’t stop myself from asking:

  —Why are you always transformed?

  Irhena paused, tilting her head with that sly, shameless smile that chilled and burned me all at once.

  —Because I like feeling my anger every moment. And, let’s be honest… I like being looked at.

  Then she walked away, leaving me behind—body battered, heart pounding like a drum, and the certainty that I was still dangerously far from mastering what burned inside me.

  I returned to the dorm with my muscles still aching, but my mind clearer. When I opened the door, my friends were there, as if they had been waiting for me. Velka and Caelia were already in light clothes, ready to bathe, while Neyra made a face of frustration with her arm still in a cast.

  —Finally —Neyra said with a half-smile—. If you’d taken any longer, I was going to bathe with my clothes on, because with this arm… —she shook the bandage with frustration— I can’t do anything on my own.

  Velka let out a laugh.

  —Well, that’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? The great goddess Neyra, defeated by a button and a shower.

  Neyra rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. Caelia, however, stood calmly and put a hand on her shoulder.

  —I’ll help you —she said in that quiet, steady voice of hers—. Come on.

  We went into the bathroom together. This time, I didn’t bring anything to cover myself. I wasn’t sure why, but after Eiswacht… after Silas… something felt different in me. Freer. Less afraid to show who I was.

  The steam filled the room as soon as we turned on the taps. Warm water wrapped us like a mantle. Neyra tried to soap herself, but at the first sharp movement she let out a groan.

  —Damn arm —she muttered.

  —Let me —Caelia said, taking the soap from her hands. She moved behind her, lathering her hair and back with a patience that moved me. Neyra closed her eyes and sighed, as if for the first time in days she could finally relax.

  Velka, meanwhile, took the chance to tease as she scrubbed her curls vigorously.

  —Look at them, straight out of a romance novel: Caelia, the devoted nurse, tending to her wounded maiden.

  —Shut up, Aurel —Neyra shot back, but her smile betrayed her.

  I laughed, feeling lighter. I let the water run down my skin, and then Velka gave me a sly look.

  —Ah, our lady goddess of rancor now baring herself for all to see. —She raised her brows dramatically—. That confidence suits you, Lyss.

  I lowered my gaze, embarrassed but also proud.

  —I’m tired of hiding.

  The words left a short silence, broken only by the sound of water. It was Caelia who filled it, her voice low and steady.

  —That’s fine. Among us there are no secrets. What matters is that we can care for each other like this.

  For a moment, we all fell silent. The steam made our scars glisten: the line on Caelia’s shoulder, Neyra’s bruises, Velka’s marks. Seeing us all like that—vulnerable and human—gave me a strange calm. We were wounds and strength at the same time.

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  When we came out, wrapped in towels, I felt something had changed. Not just in me: in all of us. There was a stronger bond in the way we laughed, in the way Velka’s jokes carried a spark of pride in her eyes.

  —No uniforms today —she said suddenly, adjusting the towel in her hair—. Today, just comfortable clothes to remind me I’m more than a soldier.

  —I agree —Neyra added, still struggling with a blouse—. Caelia, can you help me with this?

  Caelia assisted her quietly, fastening the buttons with care. Then, for the first time in ages, she left her hair down over her shoulders and chose a navy-blue dress, simple but elegant.

  —Is it too much? —she asked, a touch of insecurity in her voice.

  —It’s perfect —I said without hesitation.

  Velka gave a low whistle, but her eyes were sincere.

  —Look at her… almost like she’s ready for a date.

  We laughed together, sharing makeup and little accessories we dug out of the wardrobe. Neyra insisted on putting some lip gloss on me, and I groaned.

  —I feel like a kid.

  —Sometimes that’s exactly what we need —she replied, tapping my nose—. Even if it’s just for a moment.

  And in the middle of that laughter, of the knowing glances and helping hands dressing Neyra, I knew that tonight we weren’t soldiers. We were friends. We were family.

  We left the dormitory with that flutter in our stomachs that only comes from the thrill of the unknown. We took a transport to the heart of the city, and from there our day began.

  Caelia led us to a small café hidden down a side street, one she had discovered months ago but had never shared with anyone. It had a dark blue awning and wrought-iron tables out on the terrace, where the sun peeked timidly between the tall buildings. The scent of freshly baked bread and strong coffee wrapped around us the moment we stepped in.

  —Isn’t it beautiful? —Caelia asked, with an unusual hint of shyness.

  —Yes… —I said, taking in the hanging plants decorating the place—. It’s perfect.

  We ordered an improvised brunch: hot coffee, bread fresh from the oven, sliced fruit, and pastries dusted with sugar. Velka leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms as if she wanted to claim the whole moment for herself.

  —Doesn’t it feel… unreal? —she asked with a crooked smile—. Like we’re stealing a piece of normal life.

  —It is —Caelia replied softly, though her tone carried a steady firmness—. And that’s why we have to enjoy it. We never know when it will return.

  Neyra nodded, carefully resting her bandaged arm on the table. —I like to think these moments count as victories too. Small ones, but ours.

  The three of them smiled, and so did I, though my gaze drifted beyond the terrace.

  Something felt off: a pressure at the back of my neck, as if someone were watching me from across the street. I turned my head casually, and among the crowd I spotted a man in a dark coat, standing too still to blend in with the bustle of the nearby market. Our eyes met for a heartbeat… and in the next instant, he vanished into the crowd.

  I froze, my heart racing.

  —Lyss? —Velka asked, noticing my distraction.

  I shook my head, forcing a smile. —Nothing, just… the coffee’s really hot.

  They laughed at the comment, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of that gaze burning into me.

  Something—or someone—was following us.

  After the café, we continued walking through the city streets. The air was alive: vendors shouting their offers, children running between the stalls, the scent of spices and flowers mixing with the lingering aroma of freshly baked bread.

  The street markets were a spectacle of colors. Embroidered fabrics hung like improvised banners, jars of essences gleamed under the sunlight, and piles of fruit looked so perfect it was hard not to stop at every stall.

  Velka was the first to break the rhythm. She tried on a huge hat with blue feathers and posed as if she were in a parade.

  —Admit it, I look spectacular —she said, spinning around.

  Neyra burst out laughing, her bandaged arm carefully braced against her torso to avoid straining it. —You look like a crazy countess.

  —An elegant countess —Velka corrected, taking the hat off with an exaggerated bow.

  Caelia shook her head, but her smile betrayed her. —I don’t know if “elegant” is the right word.

  I laughed too, feeling that the tension that usually clung to us was dissolving in laughter and jokes. For a moment, we were just four girls wandering through a market, with no responsibility other than choosing a pretty keepsake.

  At one stall, Neyra found a necklace of red stones and clasped it around her neck. The light made the gems gleam like glowing embers.

  —I like it. It reminds me of us —she said, looking at us with that unexpected seriousness she sometimes had—. Fire, strength, and a little madness.

  Velka winked at her. —If that’s not a perfect description of this group, I don’t know what is.

  Caelia paused at a fabric stall, letting the silk brush against her fingers with care. —It’s strange… —she murmured—. To feel like we can allow ourselves something so simple. As if we were stealing a day from fate.

  Her words tightened something in my chest.

  —And you, Lyss? —Velka asked, pulling me from my thoughts—. Aren’t you going to buy something for Silas?

  I felt my cheeks heat instantly. —Maybe… but not today. Today I’m just me.

  Velka watched me for a moment longer, with that spark of mischief that always lived in her eyes. But this time, her smile was different, softer.

  —Well, I say you deserve something just for yourself, Lyss. Something to remind you that you’re not just a soldier or someone’s girlfriend… —she shrugged, as if trying to downplay it—. But someone who deserves to be seen for who she is.

  Her tone surprised me, almost serious beneath the joke. I smiled at her, a little confused, and Velka immediately turned toward another stall, hiding the flush in her face behind another of her loud laughs.

  I nodded, laughing with her. And together we kept wandering through the markets, trying on cheap bracelets, smelling strange flowers, and laughing with the vendors who swore everything they offered was “the best in Seravenn.”

  For a few hours, we believed it.

  The afternoon turned golden when Velka, with that mischievous sparkle in her eyes, threw out a suggestion that caught us all by surprise.

  —How about karaoke? —she asked, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  —Karaoke? —Caelia repeated, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

  —Yes, leader —Neyra chimed in, nudging Caelia with her good arm—. Let’s prove we’re good for more than fighting.

  Caelia sighed, as if she already knew resistance was futile. —Fine. But just one song.

  The place was half-empty, warm and cozy, with soft neon lights flickering on the walls. We rented a private booth and settled into the couches, laughing nervously before the music began.

  Velka grabbed the microphone without hesitation. She picked a catchy tune, full of rhythm, and sang with such exaggerated drama that we doubled over in laughter. She moved as if performing on stage before thousands, pointing at us theatrically with every chorus.

  —Told you I was born for the spotlight! —she declared at the end, blowing a kiss to the air.

  Neyra went next. She hesitated at first, but once she started a ballad, she stunned us. Her voice, soft and melancholic, filled the room in a way that left us silent. The emotion in her eyes said more than the notes: it was the voice of someone who had suffered, yet still found beauty in the pain. When she finished, we applauded until she hid her face in her hands, blushing.

  —You’re amazing —I whispered, and Neyra lowered her gaze, her smile shy.

  Then it was Caelia’s turn. She rose with that solemn air of hers, as if about to deliver a speech at the barracks. But when she began to sing, her deep, steady voice wrapped us in reverence. The song was old, heavy with nostalgia, and every word felt like it carried the weight of memory:

  "I walk through the storm,

  with my back unbowed and my heart still bleeding.

  Let the world break me if it must,

  for even in ashes, I will be a shield."

  We sat frozen, caught in the strength of her voice. For those minutes, she wasn’t our unshakable leader—she was simply a woman letting us glimpse a rare vulnerability.

  When she finished, the silence lingered before we erupted in applause. Caelia’s cheeks turned crimson, and she shot us a serious look.

  —No one can ever know I did this.

  —We swear it —I said, raising my hand with mock solemnity.

  Velka, however, smirked. —Beautiful, Caelia… but I swear that song was written for you.

  Caelia glared, though her lips twitched, almost breaking into a smile. Neyra reached out and took her hand, offering silent solidarity.

  Finally, all eyes turned to me. There was no escape. My heart raced as I picked a simple melody, something clear I could manage. My voice wasn’t the strongest, but I sang from deep inside, letting all my emotions spill out. I saw my friends smiling, listening with that wordless complicity we always shared.

  When I finished, Velka wrapped an arm around my shoulders. —Lyss… you have no idea how radiant you sound when you let yourself shine.

  —Yes —Neyra added gently—. It’s like your voice carries pieces of all of us.

  Caelia didn’t say anything, but she gave me a small, rare smile that meant more than words.

  We spent hours like that—singing, laughing, even dancing when Velka insisted. The outside world faded, and for those hours we were just that: four girls, bound together by music, laughter, and a secret no one else would ever know.

  When we finally left, our throats were raw, but our hearts felt lighter. We walked under the night lights of the city, knowing that this memory would become one of those we’d cling to when darker days came.

  Night embraced us as we left the karaoke, still laughing together, our throats sore but our hearts light. The city lights flickered like fireflies between the buildings, and the cold air made us walk closer than usual.

  Velka slipped to my side, brushing her hand against mine at first as if by accident. But then she didn’t pull away. She leaned her arm against mine, joking that she was tired, though she lingered a second longer than necessary. I felt the warmth of her skin, and when I looked up, I caught that sideways smile of hers that always seemed to say more than her words ever would.

  Neyra, a few steps behind, watched us in silence. She didn’t speak, only pressed her lips together, keeping the comment to herself like someone who knew it wasn’t the right time to bring it up.

  For a moment, a shiver ran down my spine. As if someone was watching us from a distance. I turned my head, but all I saw were the reflections in the shop windows and the smoke from street stalls fading into the night. Maybe it was just exhaustion… but something in my chest refused to calm down. I kept quiet. I wasn’t going to ruin the perfect day we’d had.

  When we reached the dormitory, the cozy silence of the place wrapped around us. Each of us got ready in her own way: Neyra struggling a little with her arm still healing while Caelia helped her with patient care; Velka sitting down next to me to untie her boots, so close I could feel her breath on my shoulder. Suddenly, she reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face, as if it were nothing more than a casual gesture. But it wasn’t. I knew it in the way her fingers lingered just a moment on my cheek, and in the intense look she gave me—quick, but enough to set off a blush I tried to hide.

  We wished each other goodnight with tired laughter, each settling into her own bed. The room fell into shadow, lit only by the pale moonlight seeping through the curtains. I closed my eyes with a smile, still feeling the warmth of Velka’s hand on mine.

  Outside, beyond the glass, something moved. A shadow stopped before our window, watching in silence. It made no sound, left no trace—only waited a few seconds longer… and then vanished into the darkness.

  Inside the dormitory, we breathed in peace. Outside, danger waited.