The sun was already high when Velka, Neyra, and Caelia finished a last round of exercises in the academy’s training yard. The heat of effort clung to their skin, sweat shining like war marks on their young bodies. They wore light clothes: shorts, sports tops, and their hair tied back in ponytails or braids that left their necks exposed.

  Velka had a mischievous smile on her lips as she circled Neyra, throwing light punches with her fists.

  —Are you going to stand there like a statue, Neyra? —she teased, her eyes gleaming playfully—. Or do you just want to watch me move a little longer?

  Neyra frowned, dodging with surgical precision, her voice sharp.

  —You’re too predictable. If you care more about impressing than striking, you’ll always lose.

  —Ah, my dear Neyra… —Velka sing-songed, launching a quicker punch—. I know you think I’m a mess, but I do know how to get under your skin.

  Meanwhile, Caelia stood with her arms crossed, observing in silence. Her calm eyes missed nothing.

  —That’s enough —she said at last, her calm firm, leaving no room for argument—. If you keep this up, one of you will end up with a black eye. And I’m not in the mood to explain that to mother.

  Velka raised her hands in surrender, laughing.

  —Yes, yes, whatever you say, leader —she said with a theatrical bow—. But admit it, you’re the one who knows best how to put us in our place.

  Caelia allowed a faint smile to appear.

  —I’m not the leader because of jokes, Velka. But because I know when to stop… and when to push.

  —That’s true —Neyra added, wiping sweat from her forehead—. But it’s also true that Velka moves with too much emotion sometimes.

  Velka arched a brow, playful.

  —Too much emotion? You say that as if you’re not the one who obsesses over everything. —She sighed in an exaggerated gesture—. Fine, I’ll accept it. I’m emotion incarnate.

  The training ended with stretches and a few more jokes. But as they began walking toward the baths, Velka paused.

  —Go on ahead —she said, distracted—. I’ll catch up. I want to talk to Venesse.

  Caelia and Neyra exchanged a brief, silent look before nodding.

  —All right —Caelia said—. But don’t take too long.

  —Yes, before the water gets cold —Neyra added dryly, though with a touch of complicity.

  Velka smiled, though inside she felt a knot in her chest she didn’t know if she wanted to untie or tighten.

  Venesse’s office didn’t look like a military room. It was a warm space: soft curtains that let in golden light, a low table where tea was always waiting, and the scent of wood lingering in the air. When Velka entered, she found her reading a small book.

  Venesse looked up and smiled with that natural sweetness of hers, like an embrace.

  —Velka… how lovely to see you —she said, her voice a caress—. Would you like tea, a pastry… or at least some fresh water? From your clothes, I can see you’ve just trained.

  —Water will be fine… thank you —Velka replied, dropping onto a cushion with a short laugh.

  Venesse poured her a glass and handed it over with care.

  —And what brings you here? —she asked, with that gentle curiosity that listened more than it pried.

  Velka lowered her gaze, turning the cool glass between her fingers.

  —The truth is… I didn’t know who else to talk to. —She gave a nervous laugh—. I don’t feel like I can tell Caelia or Neyra… but with you it feels different. I don’t know why.

  Venesse nodded, patient.

  —Then tell me here. You don’t need a mask with me.

  Velka took a deep breath, her lips trembling slightly.

  —It’s about someone… —she said softly—. Someone I like. And it’s not like before. This time it’s not a game, not a whim. This time… I feel like I really could want it.

  Venesse tilted her head, her eyes glimmering like honey.

  —And how are you so sure they couldn’t feel the same way?

  Velka tightened her grip on the glass, still not looking up.

  —Because I know their heart already belongs to someone else. I’ve seen it… the way they look at that person. It’s different. Even if they could want me, their heart is already somewhere else.

  Venesse gently took her hand.

  —Velka —she said softly—. Don’t extinguish what you feel just because it hurts. Love is not shame. It’s your heart speaking. Even if it isn’t returned, it’s a flame that tells the truth of who you are.

  Velka swallowed hard. For a moment, she almost confessed the truth—that she was speaking of Lyss. But she kept it inside, as if voicing it aloud would be too much.

  —Thank you… —she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

  Venesse stroked her cheek with tenderness.

  —Call me whatever you like, little one. I can be your friend, your guide… or your mother, if that’s what you need.

  Velka closed her eyes for a moment, letting that warmth cover her.

  —Thank you —she repeated, her voice breaking—. Truly.

  She stood and left with lighter steps, though the storm inside her chest kept beating strongly.

  Velka left Venesse’s office with lighter steps, but as she turned the corner she stopped. She leaned against the wall, letting out a sigh that carried everything she hadn’t said. The conversation had given her relief… and, at the same time, left a strange emptiness in her chest.

  The name she hadn’t spoken burned on her tongue like a forbidden secret. Lyss.

  Every time she thought of her, her heart stirred in a way that scared her more than any training. It wasn’t the fear of being rejected. It was the fear of losing her. That one day her presence would slip away, not because of war, but because someone else might take the place she longed for.

  —If I tell her… —she whispered softly, almost trembling—. If I tell her, will I lose her?

  She rubbed her arms, as if she could erase the shiver. The idea of ruining what they already had suffocated her more than the possibility of never being loved back. And yet, keeping silent felt like swallowing fire.

  Shaking her head, she forced herself to pull it together. She walked back to the courtyard, where Neyra and Caelia were waiting. Neyra was calmly stretching her arms, while Caelia gave her instructions about the next round of exercises.

  —Are you done with Venesse? —Caelia asked when she saw her return, her tone neutral but her eyes attentive.

  —Yes —Velka replied, forcing a smile—. I just needed to clear my head a little.

  Neyra arched a brow, as if she wanted to ask more, but in the end only said:

  —Well, don’t take so long next time. You make us wait.

  Velka laughed softly, using that smile as a veil. She walked toward them, though the knot in her chest was still there, tightening. A truth she couldn’t share yet… for fear that everything might change.

  Neyra stood up and gave Velka a light tap on the shoulder.

  —You’re acting stranger than usual today —she said with a half-smile—. I won’t press you… but I can tell.

  Velka let out a short, almost nervous laugh.

  —Strange is what I always am, Neyra. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

  Caelia stepped closer, her gray eyes as steady as they were serene.

  —It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to say it now —she said, with the calm authority she always carried—. Just remember you’re not alone. Even if what you’re carrying inside scares you… you can always trust us.

  Velka swallowed hard. That simple phrase, spoken with such natural certainty, almost broke through the armor she wore around herself. But she forced a smile and nodded.

  —I know… thank you.

  They walked together toward the baths, the three of them in silence. To anyone else, it looked like nothing more than a quiet pause after training. But for Velka, every step was a reminder of how much she would risk if she ever said what she truly felt.

  And as the door closed behind them, the story shifted back to where Lyss was… far away, in a field where war and hope mingled like embers on the wind.

  The red flash blinded me for an instant. I thought it was my own blood, but when I blinked I saw it pouring from Reia’s shoulder. The bullet had gone straight through her, and yet its scorching path had grazed me as well, tearing a gasp from my throat. The burn was strange, deeper than any surface wound.

  —Reia! —I shouted, running to her.

  She had already summoned her spear. In a blinding movement, she hurled it at the shadow that had been stalking us. The assassin barely had time to aim a second shot before the luminous blade pierced him. His body fell without a sound, the metallic echo of his weapon fading into the snow.

  Reia clenched her teeth, forcing a smile. Red and golden blood stained her uniform, each drop hissing as if it burned upon touching the air.

  —Don’t worry, Lyss… —she said, her voice unsteady though still trying to sound serene—. This… I can heal in a second.

  I knelt by her side, pressing my hands against the wound on her shoulder, feeling the almost unbearable heat radiating from the bullet.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  —Don’t talk! Let me help—.

  —I already am —she answered, and light began to envelop her skin. The wound closed slowly, though her breathing shook more than she wanted to admit.

  Nysha was the first to arrive. She threw herself toward Reia, eyes wide, as if the world were ending at that very moment.

  —No, no, no! —she kept repeating, her hands trembling as they touched Reia’s arm—. Don’t leave me, don’t leave me…

  —I’m here, little one —Reia whispered, stroking her hair despite the pain.

  Caelyn came next, calmer, but with her lips pressed into a hard line. She bent down and picked up the bullet that had fallen onto the ground, still hot. She held it between her fingers with a look of deep suspicion.

  —This isn’t ordinary steel —she said quietly—. It’s an anti-magic round. And look… —she brought it closer to the light—. It has containment runes etched into it. This is Eiswacht technology.

  Silence fell over us. Only Nysha’s sobs and the crackle of Reia’s blood sealing itself with magic could be heard. My side still burned from the graze, though it had barely touched me. In that moment, I knew: it wasn’t just a bullet. It was a message.

  And Eiswacht had sent it straight to us.

  The silence that followed was heavier than the gunshot itself. The enemy had crossed the border without anyone noticing.

  Reia clenched her teeth, straightening with visible effort. The veil of pain in her eyes couldn’t hide the light of her resolve.

  —Caelyn, Nysha… I want you to search every corner of the village. Speak to everyone, ask if they saw anything unusual. Lyss, you go with them, I will examine the body.

  I nodded, my heart pounding hard.

  We split quickly. I moved among the ruined houses, questioning children and elders. They answered with nervous glances, some with fear in their eyes. Nysha stumbled through the streets, her broken voice barely forming questions, yet the people listened, moved by her fragility. Caelyn, in contrast, was sharp and direct: she fixed villagers with her gaze until they spoke, as if she pulled the truth from them by force.

  It took a while before someone finally spoke. An old man, stooped and lined with deep wrinkles, approached with slow steps.

  —That man… —he rasped—. He wasn’t from here. I saw him last night at the tavern, asking for a room. No one knew him. He didn’t say much. Just paid in advance and went upstairs.

  —Where? —Caelyn asked firmly.

  The old man lifted a trembling finger, pointing toward a small building at the village’s edge.

  —There. Mistress Irvel’s inn.

  We exchanged a silent look. The echo of the gunshot still rang in my bones, but now something else joined it: the certainty that Eiswacht had not only crossed the borders. It had slipped into our homes, our shelters, our lives.

  And as our eyes fixed on that inn, a knot tightened in my stomach. I knew that whatever we found inside… could change everything.

  The room where the assassin had stayed was shrouded in shadows, lit only by an oil lamp that Reia ignited with a flicker of magic. The air smelled of dust and dampness, as if someone had tried too quickly to erase their presence. The bed was unmade, the sheets stained with mud and ash.

  Caelyn searched with calm precision, carefully moving aside the folded garments in one corner: common clothes, peasant-like, but too new, without the wear of someone who worked the land. Nysha trembled as her hands hovered over a small chest, as though she expected something dark to emerge from within.

  —He doesn’t have much —murmured Reia, her voice low and firm—. But enough to prove he wasn’t just another villager.

  It was Caelyn who found it: a folded map tucked inside a leather pouch. She spread it out over the table, and we all leaned closer. The drawing showed the entire province, with paths, mountains, and villages marked with careful precision.

  And there it was.

  A red circle, drawn with such force that it had nearly torn through the paper at its center.

  —Here… —said Caelyn, pointing to the spot with a steady finger—. This is what he was after.

  Nysha covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide.

  —That color… that stroke… it feels desperate. As if he’d been obsessed with reaching it.

  Reia didn’t look away from the circle, her brow furrowed into a sharp line.

  —This isn’t random —she murmured—. He didn’t just come to attack. He came for this.

  I leaned over the map. The place marked didn’t look familiar, and yet… something in my chest stirred, a strange echo I couldn’t name.

  —What’s there? —I asked softly.

  No one answered.

  Reia folded the map carefully and tucked it into her belt.

  —We’ll find out soon.

  The silence in the room grew heavier, as if that red circle still burned upon the table.

  The sky was clear, but the wind felt different. It wasn’t the fresh, light air of the mountains; it was heavier, as if carrying something invisible that brushed against the skin. We flew in formation, Reia at the front with her cape trailing like a golden banner, Caelyn and Nysha at her sides, and I closing the line.

  The silence over the communicator was almost unsettling. There were no jokes from Reia, no calm remarks from Caelyn. Even Nysha, who always breathed with nervousness, seemed to be holding her breath.

  As we drew closer to the point marked on the assassin’s map, a strange pressure began to sink into my chest. It wasn’t pain… it was something more primal, as if a part of me recognized what lay ahead before my eyes could even see it.

  —Do you feel it? —Caelyn asked softly, breaking the silence.

  —Yes —Reia replied, her firmness unable to hide her unease—. The air is… disturbed. As if magic itself avoids this place.

  I swallowed hard, tightening my grip on my rifle. The pressure in my abdomen was so sharp I had to steady my breathing. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt anger boil up like this, but this time it wasn’t just rage: there was a buried familiarity in the sensation.

  The red mark on the map lay ahead, between eroded mountains and a valley scattered with ruins. With every meter we closed in, the silence in the air grew heavier, and the sky seemed to dim, as though even the light refused to fall there.

  Reia adjusted her communicator.

  —Stay alert. Whatever it is, I don’t want surprises.

  I nodded, but inside my chest, a quiet voice seemed to whisper the opposite: that the real surprise was already waiting for me in that place.

  The valley opened beneath us like a memory violently erased. The houses lay in ruins, their roofs caved in and their walls split apart, yet there was no smoke, no fire. Only silence. A silence so deep it seemed to swallow even the wind.

  The instant my boots touched the ground, a sharp pain stabbed through my temple.

  —Agh… —I clutched my head, staggering.

  —Lyss? —Reia’s voice came through the communicator, alarmed.

  —I’m fine… just… —but as I took another step, the pain worsened. Something inside me recognized the ground, the streets, the broken stones.

  My eyes fixed on the center of the village. There, a vast crater split the earth wide open, like a wound that had never healed. And then the memories struck me like lightning.

  Screams. Laughter. A woman’s voice calling my name. A crimson flash. And then, absolute silence.

  My hand went to my stomach, where the scar burned as if it had just been carved. I could hardly breathe.

  —This place… —I whispered, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to say it out loud—. I… I’ve been here before.

  Caelyn stood silent, her gray eyes locked on the crater. Nysha trembled, hugging her own arms as if she could drive away the invisible cold pressing on us. Reia stepped forward, her spear in hand, though her expression was one of confusion.

  The village was empty. No soldiers. No signs of life. Only ruins and the ghosts of what once had been.

  But to me… it was more than that.

  It was home.

  We moved through the empty streets, and with each step my body felt heavier than it should. It wasn’t just the silence, nor the ruins frozen in dead time. It was something else. Something pressing on my chest, making every breath feel like inhaling invisible smoke. The magic here didn’t flow—it swirled, dense and raw, like a fog no one else seemed to see.

  My eyes wandered over the broken fa?ades and, without knowing why, my head throbbed. A flash tore through me like a knife: me, as a child, running down that same street, a rope swing swaying in the wind, someone’s laughter calling me to keep playing. I blinked, and the memory dissolved into the haze.

  —Are you all right, Lyss? —Reia asked, noticing my hesitation.

  —Yeah… just… the air is heavy —I lied, though I knew it wasn’t only the air.

  We kept moving. The echo of my boots on the cracked stones felt too loud, as if the whole place were throwing every sound back at me in reproach. At a corner, I remembered sitting down to cry, alone, not even knowing why I was sad. The vision was so sharp I had to lean against the wall.

  Caelyn looked up, wary. —The magic here… it isn’t natural. Something’s distorting it.

  Nysha said nothing. She only watched me, as if she could read in my face a secret I didn’t even know myself.

  Then Reia raised her hand and pointed to the ground. Between hardened earth and old dust lay a trail far too fresh: wheel marks. They weren’t from carts or anything that belonged to this village. Deep, straight, carved by heavy vehicles.

  We followed them in silence, every sense sharpened. The tracks twisted through several streets before stopping in front of what looked like a half-collapsed house. But as we came closer, we saw it: hidden among crooked planks and fallen stones was a metal hatch. The soil around it was disturbed, carrying a smell of grease and smoke that did not belong to these ruins.

  That was when my scar burned, as if something beneath that entrance were calling to me. And before I could pull my hand away from my abdomen, another memory ripped through me: a familiar voice shouting to me from a window, calling me home. My mother. And then… the red light, the blast, the crater.

  I froze. The village wasn’t only marked in red on that map. The red was in my memory, carved into me.

  —Here —I whispered, my voice barely a breath—. This is where it all began.

  We descended through the narrow ramp leading underground. The air grew even heavier, thick with a metallic, damp stench that clung to the throat. The lamps hanging from the walls flickered as if fighting to stay alive, casting broken shadows across the corridors. On the tables, plates of half-eaten food lay molding, and maps were scrawled over with senseless lines, circles, and cross-outs that followed no logic at all.

  —This doesn’t look like a military outpost,— Caelyn murmured, her voice low and sharp. —It looks more like… a den of madmen.

  We didn’t have to wait long to find out. A group of soldiers staggered out of one of the side chambers. Their Eiswacht uniforms were intact, but their faces… their faces told another story. Bloodshot eyes, clumsy movements, like puppets with broken strings. One of them laughed while raising his rifle; another mumbled incoherently as he stumbled forward.

  —Contact,— said Reia, her lance flashing with a brilliant gleam.

  The first shot went wide into the ceiling. I reacted instantly: pulled the trigger and the burst cut the soldier down before he could adjust his aim. Caelyn summoned a curtain of mist that dimmed the muzzle flashes, while Nysha let her shadow crawl forward like a living stain. The soldiers collapsed to their knees, groaning, as if fear itself had burst open in their chests.

  The rest of the fight was brief—almost too brief. They attacked, yes, but with an alarming lack of precision. Reia cut them down two at a time with clean strikes; I felt as if I wasn’t even using my full strength. Within minutes, the corridor was silent again, broken only by dripping water and the crackle of a lamp.

  —This isn’t right,— Nysha whispered, her wide eyes still searching for invisible echoes. —They didn’t fight like humans… it was as if they’d already been broken before we got here.

  Reia wiped the blood from her lance with a slow gesture, her expression hard.

  —Don’t underestimate this,— she said softly. —This wasn’t weakness. It was something that had already consumed them from within.

  I stared at the bodies sprawled across the floor. Strange marks marred their skin: blackened veins, twitching spasms still shivering through their muscles. A chill ran down my spine. This wasn’t a victory. It was a warning.

  The silence after the cleanup was suffocating. It didn’t feel like we had defeated soldiers… more like shadows with rifles, bodies that moved without souls. Every time one of them fell, it felt less like victory and more like mercy.

  I walked deeper into the wreckage of the outpost. Among splintered crates and burned furniture, I found a half-destroyed tapestry.

  Female figures, barely recognizable, stood around an altar. Some had been erased by fire, others still visible but incomplete. At the center, a crimson glow had been stitched, warped and broken.

  I stared at it for a long while, a shiver running down my spine. I didn’t know what it meant, but it felt as if it was staring back at me. I couldn’t take it with me. I couldn’t even touch it. I just turned away, carrying the sense that whatever was drawn there had already slipped into me without permission.

  Outside, the air grew heavier than ever. Every breath felt like swallowing ash. We made our way to the heart of the town, and then I saw it.

  The crater.

  The world seemed to shut down around me. Images struck me in fragments:

  —You should never have left the house, Lyssandra! —my mother’s voice, sharp and merciless.

  —You’ve kept me locked inside since I was fourteen! —my own voice, breaking—. Not a single day outside, no friends, nothing!

  The memory burned. I was running, escaping, desperate for air. And here, right here, everything exploded.

  I bent over the dark earth. Bile scorched my throat, and hot tears slid down my cheeks. They weren’t sadness. They were rage.

  My hand trembled as it pressed against my abdomen. The scar was there, firm, like a brand seared into my flesh. I’d never had it before. It had appeared that day—the day I became this.

  I stayed there, kneeling at the edge of the void, with the certainty that something had been born here… something I still didn’t understand.

  I felt the world sway beneath my feet. The echo of the crater still rang in my head, and I could barely breathe. When I lifted my gaze, all three of them were already watching me.

  Reia was the first to approach, her blue eyes glowing with that mix of warmth and alarm.

  —Lyss… —she said, kneeling beside me—. What’s happening?

  Caelyn leaned in as well, her hands cold but gentle as they rested on my shoulder. Her gray eyes, so serene, searched mine as if trying to hold me steady.

  —You look… like you’ve seen a ghost.

  Nysha lingered a little further back, her fingers trembling against her own tunic.

  —Are you… okay? —she asked in a fragile whisper.

  I swallowed hard, forcing myself to speak.

  —I remembered… some things —I admitted, my throat dry—. From when I was a child, from what happened here. But I don’t yet have the full picture. They’re only… fragments.

  The three of them exchanged a glance, but didn’t press me. Reia squeezed my hand gently, her voice barely above a whisper.

  —No matter how long it takes, Lyss. We’ll be with you.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, letting that warmth wrap around me, even though bile still burned in my throat and the scar stung as if it had just been made.

  Because even if I didn’t yet have all the answers… I knew I wasn’t alone in searching for them.