I woke up early. Even though I had slept surrounded by my friends, sharing laughter and promises, today I needed to see him. Silas. I couldn’t wait any longer.

  I said goodbye to the girls with a quick smile. Velka, ever perceptive, raised a brow and tossed me a playful remark.

  —Go on, goddess. But don’t take too long, or we might start thinking you’ve replaced us.

  —Never —I replied with a light laugh before leaving.

  The crisp morning air cleared my head, though my heart was still racing. Every step toward his house seemed to whisper the same thing: run, he’s there. When I arrived, I found him already awake, as if he had known I would come. He welcomed me with that embrace that erased the war, that lifted the weight of days from my shoulders.

  —You look… radiant —he whispered, brushing his hand through my hair—. Those eyes of yours always give you away.

  —And you make me feel safe —I answered, resting my forehead against his chest.

  We spent the morning talking about everything and nothing. Silas told me how the academy was slowly being rebuilt, how some still whispered rumors about the mission in Eiswacht. He didn’t press for details; he seemed to sense I wasn’t ready to reopen those wounds yet. Instead, we spoke of us: of what we had shared, of what we wanted to build.

  —You know —he said with a soft smile—, every time I see you, the world feels like it makes a little more sense.

  —I feel the same —I replied, brushing his cheek with my fingers—. Though sometimes I’m afraid this is just a dream. Something this perfect can’t last.

  —Don’t say that, Lyss —he whispered, taking my hands—. Nothing lasts forever… but what we have right now is worth more than anything else.

  He kissed my forehead tenderly, and I felt the world settle around us.

  A moment later, as we walked together toward the small kitchen, something broke in the hallway: a glass knocked from the table, nothing more than an accident. But the sharp sound hit me like a surge of lightning. I felt the anger rise, stabbing, demanding release. My chest burned, the scar throbbed like a second heart. Silas didn’t notice; he only bent down calmly to gather the pieces. I forced a deep breath, pushing a smile to my lips as if nothing had happened.

  Normality returned quickly. We shared bread and coffee, spoke of silly stories, even laughed until tears made our cheeks ache. But inside, I knew something else pulsed within me. The anger was still there, waiting for its moment.

  When I said goodbye, Silas held my hand a second longer than necessary.

  —I’ll always be waiting for you, Lyss —he whispered, with a conviction that sent a shiver through me.

  I walked away with a smile… though deep inside, the echo of that broken glass was still resonating within me.

  I returned to the barracks with the memory of Silas still beating in my chest, but I knew I had to face another kind of challenge. In the common room, I found my friends already changed and ready to move. Velka was the first to speak, flashing that mischievous smile of hers that never seemed to fade.

  —Ready for us to put you in your place, goddess?

  —Today I don’t plan to hold back, —I answered, more serious than I expected.

  Caelia nodded calmly, as if she had been waiting for those words. Neyra, however, gestured with her arm still wrapped in its cast.

  —I’ll help however I can, —she said with a frown—. But it still hurts, and if I push too hard, Cirelle will kill me.

  —Watching and correcting will be enough, —Caelia reassured her, brushing her shoulder gently.

  We walked out to the improvised training field. The cool air mixed with the tension each of us carried in our bodies. We formed a circle. Caelia, as always, took the lead.

  —Simple exchanges first, —she said—. I want to see how your energy flows, Lyss.

  I faced her first. Her movements were controlled, precise. Every time I tried to force an attack, Caelia deflected it with an elegance that unsettled me. At one point, she even managed to disarm me, and Blood of the Crown vanished as it hit the ground.

  —Do you see? —she said, her breathing barely altered—. It’s not always about strength. Discipline wins too.

  I bit my lip, frustrated with myself. Heat rose in my chest, the sting of humiliation burning through me.

  —Again, —I growled, summoning the weapon back into my hand.

  Next came Velka’s turn. Her raw power and heavy blows were as impulsive as her personality. Every strike shook the air, forcing me to react quickly. Adrenaline surged like a river overflowing its banks, and for a moment I forgot everything Irhena had told me about restraint. I let anger fuel me.

  With one strike—too fast, too charged—I pushed her with such force that Velka was thrown several meters back, hitting the ground with a muffled groan.

  —Velka! —I ran to her, my heart in my throat.

  She sat up slowly, brushing off the dirt with a forced laugh. —I’m fine… I just didn’t expect that much from you, Lyss.

  I leaned down to offer my hand, and when she took it, a sharp pain shot through my chest. I swallowed hard, pretending nothing was wrong, but the jolt made me gasp.

  —Lyss! —Neyra rushed to my side, alarmed—. You have to control your breathing! You’re pushing your chest too far. Do you want to end up dead again?

  The memory of my stopped heart struck me like lightning. I lowered my gaze, holding back a tremor.

  —I… I don’t ever want that to happen again.

  Caelia knelt beside me. —Then listen. Don’t let anger drag you under. Let it flow, yes… but make it flow where you decide.

  I nodded, breathing deeply. The training continued with more controlled exercises: breathing techniques, slow repetitions, defensive drills. Neyra, though she couldn’t fully fight, became the voice that set the rhythm, correcting every stance, every inhale.

  When we finally finished, exhausted and drenched in sweat, we collapsed together in the grass. The sun was already sinking, painting the sky with golden tones. Velka, lying beside me, let her hand brush against mine as if it were an innocent gesture. But I felt it. And she didn’t look away.

  I shivered, though not from the cold.

  For an instant, I had the strange sensation that someone was watching us from the empty stands. I turned my head, but there was no one. The field was silent, only the murmur of the wind in the leaves.

  I shook off the thought, but the prickling at the back of my neck didn’t fade.

  That night, the room was cloaked in shadows, lit only by the pale light of the moon filtering through the window. The silence was so deep that even our breathing felt too loud. We each lay down in our beds, wrapped in warm blankets, and for a moment it seemed as if calm had finally returned.

  But rest didn’t reach Velka

  Sweat beaded her brow, catching the dim moonlight. Beneath her closed eyelids, her eyes moved restlessly, caught in a dream that wouldn’t let her go.

  She dreamed of snow. Endless snow, falling without mercy over a narrow path. She wasn’t wearing her magical armor, but a military uniform—rigid, heavy. She walked with determination, even as the wind lashed at her like it wanted to stop her. At her side, a blurred figure: a young girl, newly awakened, her aura flickering, her steps clumsy. Velka glanced at her, feeling the burden of having to keep her safe.

  A roar shattered the dream. Distant explosions. The ground trembled. Velka clenched her jaw, choosing in haste a narrower, more dangerous path. The blizzard seemed to mock her, blinding her eyes.

  The girl stumbled. She fell into the snow, her body glowing faintly as her transformation flickered like a candle about to go out. Velka screamed, tried to reach her, but the wind swallowed her voice. Blood began to stain the white ground.

  The girl lifted a trembling hand, grasping Velka’s fingers. Her face remained blurred, but her lips moved with piercing clarity:

  —Live… for me.

  And then, suddenly, the girl’s eyes were no longer blurred. They were Lyss’s eyes, peaceful, asleep in her bed, bathed in moonlight. Velka awoke with a strangled gasp, her heart pounding against her ribs.

  She sat for a few seconds, her trembling hands pressed against the sheets. She turned to look at Lyss, breathing calmly a few feet away, as if nothing in the world could disturb her. A knot rose in Velka’s throat, a heat not born of the dream but of what she had seen in Lyss that day: that unleashed strength, that rage that could consume everything.

  She rose silently, walking to the window ledge. Outside, the moon cast a cold, distant glow over the snow. Velka pressed her forehead to the frame, eyes shut as she drew in a deep breath.

  —What’s wrong with me…? —she whispered, almost inaudible.

  She knew she wasn’t afraid of Lyss. Not exactly. What she feared was what could happen if Lyss forgot what made her human. She feared that rage might drag her under, the way it had dragged so many before. And she feared she wouldn’t be able to remind her who she truly was.

  She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm the frantic rhythm of her heart. And, with the determination that defined her, she whispered to herself:

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  —I won’t let that happen. No matter how strong Lyss becomes. No matter how much rage she carries inside… I’ll be here to remind her she’s not alone.

  She returned to her bed and lay down again, her gaze still fixed on Lyss’s sleeping profile. That night, Velka didn’t dream again. But when sleep finally claimed her, her decision had already been made.

  The days passed like a series of distorted reflections. Every morning, I woke up early to train with Irhena in the field, where the snow barely touched the ground before melting under the intensity of our emotions. Irhena didn’t just teach me how to fight; she taught me to listen to my own anger, to let it flow and not allow it to consume me.

  —Your anger is not a wild beast —she would repeat as she dodged my blows and returned them with a strength and precision that left me breathless—. It’s a river. You decide whether the dam contains it or if you let it overflow everything.

  Even though I came back from those trainings with ragged breath and aching muscles, something inside me was settling little by little. It frightened me, but it also gave me a new clarity.

  After each session, I returned to the dormitory where Velka, Caelia, and Neyra were waiting with smiles and jokes. Velka never missed a chance to comment on how “flushed” I looked after training with Irhena, or to remind me that anger wasn’t the only thing I still had to learn to control. One of those times, she threw me one of her most shameless smiles.

  —Look at you, all lit up… you look like you just came back from a date.

  I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, though I knew it was more from embarrassment at her teasing than anything else. Velka noticed, and her laughter only grew louder.

  Neyra rolled her eyes and shoved her shoulder lightly. —Stop teasing her, Velka.

  —What? If she shows up looking that pretty, it’s my duty to say so —Velka replied with feigned innocence, though there was something different in her eyes, a spark she wouldn’t name.

  Neyra watched me with a mix of pride and concern, always ready to interrupt Velka whenever her jokes crossed into something too personal. And Caelia… she seemed quieter than usual. Her eyes followed every word I said, every gesture, as if she were measuring my progress not just as a warrior, but as a friend.

  In that ebb and flow of training, laughter, and glances, I reached a day I had been waiting for with a flutter in my chest: a date with Silas.

  I got ready with care, trying not to look too different from the girl I used to be. But something in me had already changed. And when I arrived at his door and saw him, I knew he noticed it too.

  Silas kissed me as he always did, with that tenderness that seemed capable of erasing any wound. His hands lingered on my arms, tracing the bruises training had left behind.

  —You seem stronger —he murmured—, but also… more distant.

  —Distant? —I asked, trying to sound light, though a knot was already tightening in my stomach.

  —Yes. As if you were here with me… but part of you was somewhere else.

  We walked through the city, hand in hand. We talked about little things: the flowers blooming in the plaza, the music drifting from a nearby stall, the long hours he had spent working in the academy’s library. I laughed, I answered… but every time his fingers intertwined with mine, I felt an echo stirring inside my chest. Part of me was with him. The other part, elsewhere— with the sword and the fury.

  As we passed through the central plaza, a group of children were playing with a makeshift ball. They laughed and ran, lost in their game. One of them stumbled, and the ball flew off, hitting my arm. The drink I carried spilled across my clothes.

  The hit was nothing… yet something inside me ignited. A searing heat rushed through my veins and, before I realized, a faint red flicker flared in my hands. Barely noticeable— but real. The children froze, not understanding what they had just seen.

  I took a step forward, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. The urge to lash out, to shout, to let something burst from me was almost unbearable.

  —Lyss… —Silas gripped my hand firmly, holding it until I looked at him. His voice was a steady whisper—. It’s fine. They’re just children.

  I inhaled sharply, swallowing the fury burning within me. The flicker vanished. The children, after a quick apology, went back to their game as if nothing had happened. But I… I knew something had.

  Silas stroked the back of my hand with his thumb, refusing to let go.

  —See? You don’t have to carry all of that right now —he said, as if trying to soothe me more than he would admit.

  Later, at the tavern, Silas ordered something simple. I barely touched my food, moving the utensils without appetite.

  —Aren’t you hungry? —he asked, leaning toward me.

  —Not… not really —I answered, avoiding his eyes.

  He studied me in silence for a moment. Then, softly, he said:

  —You look different, Lyss. Not just stronger… harder. As if something inside you had broken, and all that’s left are sharper fragments.

  His words cut through me. I didn’t know what to say. Not even I could explain what I felt in my chest: how anger made me feel alive and, at the same time, terrified me.

  I simply lowered my gaze, pressing my lips together to keep from answering.

  We finished dinner in silence, with scattered words trying to cover what both of us felt. When we left the tavern, the night air was cold, and I clung to his arm as if seeking in him a refuge against more than just the wind.

  We walked through streets lit by golden lampposts, aimlessly at first, until he gently guided me toward his house. The city faded behind us with its noise and shadows, and inside me grew the certainty that I didn’t want that moment to dissolve into nothing.

  When we arrived, Silas opened the door carefully, as if afraid a sudden movement might shatter the bubble we were in. He closed it behind us, and in that intimate silence, only the beat of my heart remained.

  I turned toward him, catching his gaze. My hands rose to his face, and I felt him shiver slightly.

  —Silas… —I whispered, my voice a thread of emotion—. I want us to make love.

  His breath caught, and for an instant I thought he might hesitate. But in his eyes I saw only tenderness and desire, as if he had been waiting for those words all along. He pulled me into his arms, and his kiss was different: more urgent, more desperate.

  I guided him to the bed, pushing him down gently until he lay back, and then I climbed over him. For the first time, I held all the control. I felt the tremor of his breath beneath my skin, the way his hands traced my arms with reverence, as if he feared breaking me even though I was the one dominating him.

  I kissed him hungrily, letting passion guide me. My nails dug into his shoulders, leaving red marks across his skin. Silas let out a low moan, surprised, but he didn’t pull away: he clung to me even tighter, surrendering completely.

  Every movement was clumsy and sacred at once, a mix of muffled laughter and burning sighs. I felt the anger throb within me, not as an enemy but as a wild pulse that made me more aware of everything: of his warmth, of his voice murmuring my name, of the way our bodies found and recognized each other.

  I set the rhythm, my body moving with strength and certainty. Silas looked at me as if he had never seen anything more beautiful, and that gaze was the only thing that kept me anchored while the fire consumed me.

  —I love you, Lyss… —he whispered, his voice breaking at the edge of pleasure.

  —And I love you —I answered, my breath ragged, my nails pressing into his skin as if I were afraid of losing him.

  When at last we collapsed together, exhausted and trembling, I sank onto his chest. He wrapped me in his arms, kissing my hair, and for an instant I felt the whole world disappear.

  There, in the warmth of that embrace, I knew what had happened wasn’t just an act of love: it was a threshold. Something inside me had changed, and though Silas didn’t know it, I could feel it in every fiber of my being.

  On the way back to the academy, he walked in silence by my side. Before saying goodbye, he held my hand tightly.

  —Promise me you won’t lose yourself in this —he whispered.

  —I promise —I replied, but the words tasted like a lie.

  When I reached the dormitory, Velka was waiting for me, sitting on my bed and leafing through one of my notebooks. Her eyes flicked up, lingering on my neck and arms. A crooked little smile curved her lips.

  —How was the date? —she asked with her usual teasing tone, leaning forward—. Because if I’m not mistaken, that bruise on your arm didn’t come from training.

  Heat rushed to my face, and I tried to cover it with a grimace of annoyance.

  —Velka…

  She lifted her hands as if feigning innocence.

  —I’m not saying anything, goddess. Just that it looks like Silas has his own way of training you. —Her soft laugh was a dagger wrapped in velvet.

  But behind that joke there was something else, something I couldn’t quite decipher.

  —It was fine… but I feel like I’m pushing him away —I confessed, letting my voice tremble a little.

  Velka closed the notebook and stood. She placed her hands firmly on my shoulders, meeting my eyes with that mix of warmth and strength that only she had.

  —Don’t let what you are now destroy what you want to protect. Whatever’s happening… remember that.

  Caelia and Neyra came in just then, their smiles like a shield against the tension. Caelia suggested we have dinner together and then turn in early. Neyra agreed, saying tomorrow would be another hard day, but that we’d face it together, as always.

  As we shared that last meal before bed, I felt the weight of all that had already changed, and of all that was still to come.

  And when we lay down that night, each in her own bed yet bound by the invisible thread that only we understood, a soft knock came at the door. The High Instructor Venesse had sent an urgent message. My heart pounded as I rose, seeing my friends stir as well, wondering what could be so important that she, the figure who oversaw our lives, was summoning us at such an hour.

  I knew that call wasn’t just for me. It was for all of us—for the magical girls we were, and the women we were destined to become.

  The meeting hall was brighter than usual, lit by the warm glow of oil lamps. Heavy curtains sealed the windows, as though they wished to keep the warmth in and the world out. We had lined up as always, stiff and silent, but when I saw High Instructor Venesse Aerla sitting in a velvet-upholstered armchair, something in me relaxed against my will.

  Velka, Neyra, and Caelia reacted as well: their faces reflected a mix of relief and surprise. Her very presence seemed to ease a shadow they had never confessed to me.

  Venesse was the embodiment of calm and dignity: a woman who looked as if she had stepped out of another age, her white hair perfectly styled, her voice sweet and warm, always wrapping me in a sense of protection. Her eyes carried that tranquil light only mothers have, and when she spoke, it was as if she caressed the air.

  —Please, sit —she said with a gentle smile—. There’s no need to be so formal with me tonight.

  We sat, a bit uneasy, while she regarded us with an almost infinite tenderness.

  —I know you’re tired, and I know these past days have been hard on you. But I need to ask something more… especially of you, Lyss.

  My heart began to race.

  —Virelle was slightly injured on her last mission. Nothing serious, but enough that she needs someone to take her place for a few days. Just three days —she explained with a small gesture—. The queen suggested your name, and all the veils approved.

  Caelia looked up, confusion written clearly on her face, though she said nothing. Neyra merely nodded, as if resigned to the fact that these decisions were beyond us. Velka… Velka frowned faintly, her eyes holding a strange glimmer. Not only doubt—something more, some unease she couldn’t put into words.

  —You’ll have to wear a mask —the instructor went on—. The same one you can manifest with your magic, to shield you from the gas. I know… it’s not easy, and it’s not something we would normally ask.

  —Why me? —I asked, though I knew the answer wouldn’t change anything.

  —Because you’re the only one who can fill that role without compromising the mission —Venesse replied with her soft voice—. I’m truly sorry, Lyss. I know it means being away from your friends… but it’s necessary.

  Velka was the first to react, her tone far more serious than usual.

  —And what if she doesn’t want to? —she demanded, looking from me to the instructor—. What if she’s not ready to work with Reia?

  The High Instructor sighed, her eyes filled with compassion.

  —The vote has already been cast, Velka. All the heads, myself included, agreed.

  I froze. There was no escape, no way to refuse. But Venesse rose and walked to me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder before drawing me into a soft embrace.

  —I’m truly sorry, daughter —she said, with such maternal tenderness it almost broke my heart—. But I trust you. I trust your strength and your heart. It will only be a few days.

  When we left the hall, the chill of the corridor struck me, and I felt Caelia’s hands on my shoulders.

  —You’ll be fine, Lyss —she said, low and firm—. We’ll be here, waiting.

  Neyra, ever logical, stepped closer too.

  —We’ll miss you —she admitted, with a nervous smile.

  Velka was the last to approach, her gaze fixed on mine.

  —Just one thing —she murmured, half a joke and half something that hurt—. Don’t let that radiant Reia make you forget us, alright?

  —I’ll never replace you —I promised, my throat tight.

  The four of us embraced, so close that for a moment I felt no worry, only the warmth of their bodies and their souls. That night, when we returned to our room, we slept together in a makeshift nest, as if we already knew we needed each other’s closeness more than ever.

  I didn’t sleep well. Not from fear… but from the certainty that what lay ahead wouldn’t be easy. Yet I was ready. For them.