One day had passed since the war room plans and Celestian letter, and the air already felt heavier with purpose.
The sky above Saelira's estate was a steel-blue canvas, streaked with fading clouds, and the training grounds had been cleared for the morning. No guards. No servants. Just them.
Elysia stood in the center of the wide, rune-marked courtyard, her black training combination hugging her form, lightweight and breathable, made for movement.
Her silver hair had been pulled into a loose braid that swayed down her back, already damp with sweat from the preliminary stretches.
She rolled her shoulders slowly, eyes narrowing as Malvoria stepped into position across from her, arms bare, coat discarded.
The demon queen's muscles rippled under her dark sik as she adjusted the gauntlets on her forearms and lit a small, slow flame in the palm of her hand.
"Ready?" Malvoria asked, voice low and steady.
Elysia took a breath, feeling the familiar burn begin deep in her chest.
