In the early morning, Sikakama's room remained neatly arranged, as if no one had ever used it. This led Alister to assume she had already left at dawn.
But when he opened the grand chamber doors, he was met with the sight of Sikakama collapsing under the weight of a heavy suit of armor she had tried to lift from among the room's many relics. Alister paused, watching her silently from above.
Flustered, Sikakama scrambled to her feet, quickly returning the armor to its place. Straightening up, her face tense yet forced into a smile, she said nervously,
"I've accepted the trial."
With a snap of his fingers, Alister summoned a man who stepped through the doorway.
Sikakama's eyes widened the instant she recognized him—it was Sian. She pointed at him, shouting,
"You!"
"He will accompany you," Alister declared.
The path cut through the forest, framed by trees and plants on both sides.
"It seems you've found it," he said quietly.
"Thank you for laying her to rest… and I'm sorry for following you everywhere. After my mother died, I just… had nowhere else to go. you must think I am strange now ."
Sian lifted his gaze to the sky, its blue reflected in his eyes.
"Everyone is strange in their own way."
At that moment, a crow descended from above and landed on Sikakama's shoulder.
She slowly extended her arm, and the bird hopped from her shoulder down to her elbow. Lifting it toward Sian, she said with a spark in her eyes,
"Oh, I'll introduce you to Mr. Crow—his head got stuck once, and I freed him. Since then, he's been following me everywhere. And you won't believe it—he can actually talk!"
But the crow seemed perfectly normal, tilting its head from side to side. Sikakama looked at it and said,
"You must be joking."
Then the crow flew away.
Sian continued down the path, speaking aloud to himself,
"What have I done in my life to deserve meeting you?"
"Believe me, he is speaking," she insisted.
They arrived at an empty space. Sikakama looked at Sian, but he had already vanished. She stepped toward a barrier resembling a magical wall. Calmly, she extended her hand and touched it. Slowly, her hand sank into the wall, and suddenly a strong hand grasped her by the collar, pulling her through until she emerged on the other side. She stood up, lifting her gaze, and was astonished.
Before her loomed a colossal tower, so immense that its peak seemed to vanish into the clouds. The stone walls were mostly smooth, though cracked in places, with winds gusting through the crevices, ruffling her hair and billowing her cloak.
Sian stood beside her.
"You must climb this tower to reach its summit," he said.
Determined, Sikakama stepped forward.
"I'll wait for you," Sian added.
Sikakama glanced at Sian, nodded firmly, and entered the tower.
Ascending the stone stairs, Sikakama's footsteps echoed softly with each step. She observed that the walls were covered with intricate carvings. One depicted a knight pushing open two massive white gates. Another showed a winged beast with a beak, standing alongside a knight.
She finally reached the twin stone gates, above which a griffin statue was carved. A mix of tension and awe welled up in her chest. From beneath the edges of the doors, a faint aura seeped out, radiating an ominous, terrifying force.
Sikakama placed her palms on the door and its carved symbols. A crimson magical light began to glow across the engravings, flowing like a river after a long drought. The doors creaked open heavily, scattering some dust to the ground.
Inside, a colossal statue of a legendary creature—the griffin—stood. Carved from stone with meticulous detail, its feathers seemed ready to take flight. She appeared small before its majesty and ferocity.
Sikakama approached, her hand trembling as she placed it on the statue, sweat dripping down her face. She swallowed hard, her voice rising above the silence in anticipation—but nothing happened.
"I can't hear anything…" she whispered in disappointment. The place was quiet, and she felt the weight of her failed mission. When she turned, suddenly, a sound froze her in place.
She slowly turned toward the statue, and the moment her gaze met it, a mysterious force struck her forehead, lifting her head slightly to reveal another dark dimension, like a void. Then, two gigantic crimson eyes appeared, their pupils nearly vertical like a predator's, and a deep, terrifying voice resonated:
"What do you want, human? Do you not fear for your life?"
Sikakama froze, awed by the looming creature. Firmly, she said,
"I am the knight. I have come to awaken you."
"And what makes you call yourself a knight?"
Sikakama hesitated, struggling for a convincing answer, before finally saying, "I am the one who pulled the sacred sword."
A lofty, resonant voice cut through the air:
"So, you think pulling a piece of metal makes you special?"
She looked up at the giant eyes, dwarfed by its immense size.
"The wielder makes the sword a true weapon—without them, it is nothing but metal.
You do not understand what it means to be a knight. Humans like you, driven by shallow motives, will never grasp Honor. Protection. Resolve.
A knight is more than blade and armor. One knight can hold a crumbling world together… or tear it apart."
Sikakama watched the scenes unfold in a breathtaking sequence: a knight in gleaming grey armor, his red cloak billowing behind him,
fought valiantly to protect the helpless; the crowd erupted in cheers, showering him with flowers for his courage; a princess honored him, placing a sword upon his shoulder as he bowed—a moment etched in time. Finally, he led his army from the front, his powerful steed surging forward, sword raised high, lightning illuminating the sky as he charged fearlessly toward the second monster.
Sikakama lowered her gaze, gritted her teeth, and clenched her fists tightly. Then, lifting her head with confidence and a determined smile, "Even if it takes my whole life, I will become a knight."
A tense silence fell over the creature for a few moments. Then, Sikakama raised her hand to the air, and suddenly, a bolt of black lightning shot forth from the void, carving a symbol into her palm. The magical energy was immense, illuminating the entire area, its glow reflecting in her wide, awed eyes. Sparks of raw power danced around her, crackling in the air as if the very atmosphere had become charged with magic.
Agony blazed through her, dyeing her eyes a deep crimson, where even her tears had bled into the same fiery red.
With a deep, resonant voice, just before the eyes faded into nothingness, came the words:
"You will sink into the darkness, to light their path.
And remember—you were the one who chose this."
The armored knight standing beside the stone statue stirred, his eyes suddenly gleaming beneath his helmet. He advanced toward Sikakama, raising his long, curved weapon in a threatening arc. But Sian leapt swiftly, catching her in his arms. They slid away from danger, leaving behind a glancing strike that shattered the stone floor and sent clouds of dust swirling into the air.
A powerful gust of wind burst forth, forcing the massive stone doors—flung wide open—to slam shut with a deafening crash. Then, silence fell once more.
Sikakama sat on the ground, covering her eyes with her hands. When she slowly opened them, blood ran from her eyes, and the whites of her eyes were stained red.
"Close your eyes," Sian said softly, his hand radiating warmth over her eyes, closing them again. He carried her on his back, and they left the place.
She gazed over a field of golden wheat, swaying gently in the wind, with some stalks lifted and carried by the breeze. Her eyes darted left and right, then she turned to see a woman in white clothes, flowing with the wind, walking away through the field.
"Wait!" she shouted, her voice a mix of joy and nervous excitement. "I've found the legendary… the sacred sword! I will become a knight!"
She ran as fast as she could. The woman's back was turned, but a faint, serene smile could just be glimpsed on her lips before she vanished.
Her foot caught on a stone, throwing her off balance, and she tumbled to the ground. She looked at her hands, feeling the soil beneath them. Somehow, she had stepped into a part of the field where the wheat had been deliberately cleared, forming a perfect circle that resembled a giant clock face.
A gentle breeze brushed her face as she stood up, taking in the surreal design beneath her feet.
Cries of astonishment and alarm erupted as messengers ran in every direction, papers scattering in the wake of the commotion. In offices and chambers, people leapt from their seats, shouting and gesturing, scrambling to respond to the sudden upheaval.
In a quiet room, an elderly woman's sharp gaze fell on her assistant. With a swift motion, the young woman sprang into action—light on her feet, moving with the effortless speed and grace commanded by her mistress. She leapt onto a waiting train and soon descended at a bustling station, one hand clutching her round hat while the other held a notebook tightly against her chest, weaving through pedestrians as her skirts fluttered with each stride.
Sikakama slowly opened her eyes, waking from her slumber in the quiet room.
She sat up, whispering to herself with bitterness:
"I failed…"
But then, her gaze fell upon the sword resting in its sheath beside her bed, her wrist wrapped in fresh bandages.
Suddenly, the door eased open with a soft creak, and Sian appeared, his expression calm.
"Alister wishes to speak with you," he said quietly.
Sikakama only nodded. Sian lingered just outside the chamber, waiting patiently while she changed into fresh clothes. When she finally stepped into the corridor, her footsteps were soft, her movements steady as she followed Sian down the dimly lit passage.
Alister stood with his back turned. Sikakama approached quietly and stood behind him, her gaze fixed on the floor.
In a calm voice, Alister spoke, "I did not expect this…"
Before he could finish, Mirelle leapt toward Sikakama, her joy uncontained, eyes sparkling as if lit by an unseen fire.
"You did it!" she exclaimed.
Sikakama's expression shifted to astonishment.
Mirelle added gently, "The goal was never to awaken it—it was your trial, your first step toward entering the academy!"
Sikakama lowered her eyes to her wrist and carefully removed the bandage, revealing a mysterious black mark etched into her skin—shaped like a sword.
Finally, she emerged, her eyes sparkling. She let out a cheerful laugh and, curtsying politely as she called out, "Master Alister!"
Her face then lit up with a broad smile, teeth flashing as she exclaimed with excitement:
"Where is the boy… the one who pulled the sword?"
She strode eagerly toward Sian, her eyes sparkling.
"It must be this tall man!"
But the silence in the air quickly made her hesitate. She turned her gaze toward Alister, who stood stiff and formal, hands clasped neatly behind his back. Then she glanced at the girl with the bow, and shook her head.
At that moment, Sian raised his hand slightly, gesturing downward… and her eyes finally landed on Sikakama.
"Whaaaat?!" she gasped, her eyes widening as realization struck— the one who had pulled the sacred sword was just a small girl.
Sikakama sat on the couch, her posture relaxed yet alert. Across from her, Juliet perched on the opposite side. Between them, a small table held a delicate tea set.
She pulled out a letter sealed with an elegant red wax stamp and handed it to Sikakama.
Placing her white-gloved hand on her chest, Juliet said,
"My name is Juliet Hartley. I've been sent by Lady Grace, one of the academy's senior administrators, to give you this letter."
Sikakama held the letter.
"Juliet?" she echoed in surprise.
Sian looked at her, curiosity in his voice.
"So that's what caught your attention?"
Juliet clasped her hands, eyes sparkling with excitement and mischief, a playful smile lighting up her face.
"I know, I know! My mother named me after a famous play… she adored Romeo and Juliet. I wonder… when will my Romeo appear?"
Sikakama opened the envelope and pulled out the neatly written letter requesting admission to the School of Knights. Whispering, her voice calm yet tinged with astonishment, she said,
"I'm going to enter the School of Knights."
Juliet nodded in agreement from across the table.
Unable to contain her excitement, she leapt into the air, fists clenched, and shouted,
"I'm going to the School of Knights!!"
But she halted, her eyes shifting toward Alister, who now stood facing the window.
His voice was low, edged with resignation:
"I don't know why he chose you… but no one can defy his will.
Go."
The farewell began at the bustling Pendralice station, where steam hissed from the iron belly of locomotives, and the shrill whistles cut through the clamor of carriages and the murmur of the crowd. The great steam train stood waiting along the stone platform, its polished wooden carriages glimmering beneath the glow of lamps and lanterns.
Juliet stood a little apart, her white gloves folded before her, smiling softly as she waited.
Sikakama embraced Mirelle tightly.
"Thank you… for last night," she whispered with quiet warmth.
Mirelle blinked in surprise, a faint smile tugging at her lips though her eyes held a trace of puzzlement.
Sikakama then stepped back, while Sian simply raised a hand in a calm gesture. Soon after, Sikakama and Juliet boarded the train together.
Inside the carriage, Sikakama stood by the window as the train lurched into motion. Pendralice slipped away: the towering chimneys, the cramped streets, the noise of the markets—all dissolving behind a veil of smoke and distance.
The city gave way to the outskirts: rows of brick houses, narrow gardens, and cobblestone lanes, until even those disappeared into the open countryside. Wide fields stretched in shades of green and gold, hedgerows marking the edges of farms, while flocks of sheep grazed peacefully under the bright midday sun.
Further along, the train rattled past quiet villages built of old stone, where children waved from doorsteps and women in simple dresses tended flowers on their balconies. Ancient forests soon rose around the tracks, their tall trees swaying gently in the daylight breeze, the canopy alive with birdsong.
Rivers gleamed like silver ribbons beneath arched bridges, and scattered lakes mirrored the blue sky, their rippling waters catching the light. Horses galloped across open meadows, their manes shining as they raced freely through the fields.
At last, as the journey neared its end, the land began to rise into rolling hills and broad moors. Then, beyond a curve in the track, the great towers of the castle appeared. Its stone walls stood proud against the sky, the sunlight striking its battlements and spires. The wide courtyard, stables, and gardens spread out before it, and the waters of a broad lake reflected the grandeur of its silhouette.
It was no longer Pendralice. It was another world entirely—one of knights, trials, and destiny.
This castle is the Knights' School.