LYRRISE POV...
The academy was louder than usual.
Banners were being hung across the courtyard, tables were lined with food and drink, and laughter filled the air. For a moment, I thought I was imagining it—after all the blood, the training, the alarms, and the battles… how could anyone laugh like that?
I stopped in my tracks, my brows furrowing. "What's going on?" I asked aloud, though no one seemed to notice.
That's when Soryn appeared at my side, arms crossed, lips curling into a small grin. "You really didn't hear?"
I shook my head.
She tilted her chin toward the cheering crowd. "They're celebrating the annual Blood Moon Festival. It's the academy's way of reminding everyone that even under the Dris, life still exists. Food, dancing, competitions, you name it."
I blinked at her. "A festival…? In the middle of everything?"
Soryn shrugged, the grin turning a little softer. "Sometimes you have to act like the world isn't ending, or else you'll go crazy."
Her words lingered. I didn't know if I should feel relieved or annoyed. A festival. Happiness. Laughter. All of it felt so far from the weight sitting in my chest.
Still, as I watched my team blend into the celebration—Kaelenna dragging Deyon toward the food stalls, Cyril already brooding in the shadows of the lantern-lit courtyard—I wondered if maybe Soryn was right. Maybe pretending, even for a night, could make the heaviness easier to carry.
I barely had time to think before Kaelenna's hand closed around my wrist, dragging me toward the glow of lanterns and the laughter of our classmates. "Come on, Lyrrise, just try to enjoy it," she said, her usual warmth trying to melt my mood.
But then—thud.
I bumped shoulder-first into someone. The sweet, artificial scent of perfume filled my nose, and when I looked up, my stomach dropped. Selendra. Her perfectly styled pink hair shimmered in the lantern light, and those piercing blue eyes swept me up and down like I was dirt clinging to her shoes.
"Tsk." Her lips curled into a mocking smile. "Figures. The two of you together. The pathetic assassin and the dumb little healer."
Kaelenna froze beside me, her face flushing—not with anger, but humiliation. She lowered her gaze, and the sight of it made my blood boil.
I stepped forward, closing the space between us until I was staring Selendra dead in the eye. "Careful what you say, Selendra. Don't think for a second you can humiliate Kaelenna while I stand here."
Selendra smirked, tilting her head. "Oh, I can do more than humiliate. Unlike you, I don't need to hide behind someone else's shadow. I can fight—even as a healer."
Her words rang with arrogance, but I didn't flinch. I leaned closer, my voice low and sharp. "Fight me? Don't make me laugh. You wouldn't last a second. I'm stronger than you, and deep down, you know it."
The tension snapped like a bowstring. Students nearby froze, their conversations dying mid-sentence. One by one, heads turned. A circle was forming around us—eyes wide, whispers spreading like fire.
Kaelenna's hand tugged weakly at my sleeve, as if pleading for me to stop, but it was too late. Selendra's smirk only grew sharper, and the crowd's anticipation only made the anger burning inside me grow hotter.
The moment Selendra smirked and shouted, "Arena. Now," the crowd erupted in gasps and whispers. A duel. She wanted to humiliate me publicly.
I didn't hesitate. My body moved on its own, following her out of the festival grounds and toward the grand arena. Each step echoed with the weight of dozens of students gathering, whispering, laughing, betting on who would win. Some shouted Selendra's name, others mine—but all eyes were hungry for blood.
The arena doors slammed open, and the vast circle of stone and sand stretched before us. Lanterns flickered against the night, casting a spotlight on the center.
Selendra strutted forward with arrogance dripping from her every step. With a dramatic snap of her wrist, her weapon unfolded—a gleaming metal fan, sharp edges glinting under the torchlight. She gave it a quick spin, the sound slicing through the air like blades.
The crowd oohed in admiration.
Meanwhile, I stood at my mark, my hands clenching and unclenching. No blade. No blood-forged katana. Just my fists.
Selendra noticed, her laughter loud enough to echo across the arena. "Really, Lyrrise? You came to fight me with bare hands? This will be too easy."
I raised my fists into a stance, my gaze locked on hers. My heart pounded, but I didn't waver. "Weapons don't win fights. Strength does. Let's see who walks out of here standing."
A hush fell over the crowd.
The bell rang.
Selendra darted forward first, her fan snapping open, swinging toward my face with deadly precision. I ducked, my knuckles tightening as I aimed a strike toward her ribs. The clash began, each of us determined not just to win—but to break the other's pride.
Sweat dripped down my temple as I barely dodged another slash of Selendra's fan. The sharp edge grazed my arm, leaving a stinging line across my skin. The crowd roared, cheering her name.
"Point!" the referee shouted.
That made ten for her. And me? Zero.
My fists trembled—not from fear, but from the frustration boiling inside me. Every time I tried to close in, her fan whipped out, the metal cutting the air with brutal speed. It wasn't just a fan—it was a weapon designed to keep me away, to make my fists useless.
Selendra spun gracefully, her smirk wide as she snapped her fan shut and opened it again with a metallic crack. "What's wrong, Lyrrise? Can't even land a single hit?" She tilted her head mockingly, her pink hair swaying. "Maybe you should crawl back to your little healer friend and cry. This is where you belong—beneath me."
Laughter erupted from the stands. Every mocking cheer cut at my pride, at the fire I tried so hard to hold. My chest heaved as I took a step forward, but my legs felt heavier with every strike I failed to land.
Another slash—another point.
I grit my teeth. Ten to zero. Ten to nothing.
Selendra's eyes gleamed with victory, her voice dripping with cruelty. "Pathetic. Did you really think fists could beat me? You're nothing but a fraud playing assassin."
The words echoed, louder than the roaring crowd. My fists clenched tighter.
I was losing—but not just the fight. I was losing myself.
Selendra's fan whipped past my cheek, the sting of air cutting close to my skin. She was laughing, mocking me with every strike.
"Is this really the assassin everyone praises? You can't even scratch me," she sneered, spinning her fan as if this duel were a game. "You're nothing without your pretty little blades, Lyrrise. Nothing."
Her words stabbed deeper than her weapon. I tightened my fists—ready to rush again even if it meant another failure—when something sliced through the air toward me.
Clang!
I caught it without hesitation. My eyes widened—it was Deyon's double katana. He was leaning against the railing of the arena, his usual smug grin flashing at me.
"Quit fooling around, Lyrrise," he called out. "Show her who you really are."
My lips curled into a smile. Payback time.
The moment my fingers wrapped around the hilt, my body felt alive again. I launched forward, the sound of my feet pounding against the arena floor drowned out by the collective gasp of the crowd.
Selendra swung her fan, but this time—I was faster. I ducked low, slashing upward in a sharp arc, forcing her to stumble back. Her confident smirk faltered.
Strike after strike, I didn't let up. Every swing of my blade pushed her further and further back. I was relentless—too quick for her to counter, too sharp for her to block. She barely had a chance to breathe, let alone strike back.
I slashed again, then spun, forcing her feet off the ground. Selendra was no longer dancing gracefully—she was scrambling, her balance broken.
The crowd was roaring now, no longer just cheering for Selendra—they were gasping at me.
My chest burned, but my focus never wavered. This is what I'm good at… with a weapon in hand.
Still, a thought hit me in the middle of my aggressive assault: If I want to truly grow, I need to practice more with Soryn. Without weapons, I'm useless. I can't let that weakness drag me down again.
I pressed the blade against Selendra's fan, forcing her back toward the edge of the arena. She was no longer mocking me. No laughter—only desperation in her eyes.
And that made me smirk.
Selendra's breath came in short, ragged bursts. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she forced a smile. I could see it in her eyes—she was desperate.
"Not bad," she hissed, spinning her fan again with shaky hands. "But you really think I'd lose to you?"
Her stance shifted, too suddenly. I narrowed my eyes. She wasn't attacking—she was waiting.
The fan snapped open, and from its folds a fine, glittering dust sprayed into the air, sparkling under the arena lights. The crowd gasped as the haze drifted toward me.
Poisoned powder.
Classic dirty trick.
I smirked. "Did you really think I'd fall for that?"
Instead of backing away like she expected, I lunged forward, cutting through the cloud. My blood made me immune—her poison was useless against me. The look on her face when I came out unscathed was worth every second of this duel.
"You'll have to do better than party tricks," I taunted, slashing my blade close enough to graze her sleeve.
The crowd erupted, some cheering, some booing at Selendra's obvious cheating. But I didn't let the noise distract me—I pressed harder.
Selendra retaliated wildly, swinging her metal fan with reckless force. Every strike clanged against my blades, but my movements were sharper now, more controlled. Every time she thought she had me cornered, I was already behind her, scoring another point.
Clang! Slash! Spin!
The scoreboard flashed—9 for me. 10 for her.
Her smirk returned briefly. "Still ahead of you."
But in one clean move, I disarmed her with a swift twist of my katana, sending her fan clattering to the ground. I placed the blade at her chest, forcing her back a step.
The scoreboard flickered again—10 for me. 10 for her.
The crowd roared louder than ever. The duel was tied.
I pulled my blade back, my chest heaving, sweat sticking my hair to my face.
"This isn't over," Selendra spat, snatching up her fan.
I raised my chin, staring her down with cold defiance. "Good. I'd hate for it to end too quickly."
Selendra sneered at me, spinning her fan with renewed confidence. The scoreboard was tied, but I could see her trembling hands. She was forcing her bravado.
I tilted my head, letting my smirk spread. "You know, with that hair, you look just like a Barbie doll."
Her eyes narrowed. "What did you just say?"
"Barbies are made of plastic." I took a step closer, lowering my voice so only she could hear before striking. "Just like you."
The words landed sharper than any blade. Her face flushed red with fury, and with a scream she lunged at me, fan slicing through the air like a guillotine.
"Shut up!"
I blocked with my katana, sparks flying as steel clashed against steel. The crowd erupted, students screaming with excitement as the duel shifted into pure aggression.
Selendra fought with reckless force, each strike heavier than the last, as though she wanted to tear me apart rather than win points. But I matched her pace, my body moving on instinct, every slash and step calculated.
Clang! Slam! Whirl!
The arena floor shook with our movements, dust rising as our blades cut through the air. The crowd leaned forward, some cheering my name, others shouting hers, but all of them hungry for blood.
Selendra let out a frustrated growl, swinging her fan wildly. I ducked low, spun on my heel, and with a quick upward slash, knocked her back several steps.
Her eyes blazed with rage. Mine burned with focus.
For the first time, this wasn't just about points. It was personal.
And the crowd loved every second of it.
A sharp pain jolted through my body.
Selendra's fan slammed against my stomach, knocking the air from my lungs. I staggered, clutching at the ache. Damn it— I fell for it.
Her smug grin cut deeper than the strike itself.
Heat rose in my chest. No… I wouldn't give her the satisfaction. I straightened my back, refusing to kneel, refusing to fall. Compared to what I'd endured, this was nothing.
My grip on the katana tightened.
"You're finished," Selendra sneered, raising her fan again.
"Wrong." My voice came out low, sharp. "You're finished."
With a burst of speed, I closed the distance before she even blinked. My blade swung—then I dropped it at the last second, letting my fury guide me.
My fist slammed straight into her chest.
The impact was deafening. Selendra's body lifted off the ground, sent flying across the arena before smashing into the wall with a brutal CRACK. She crumpled and slid down, out of the ring.
Silence.
The entire crowd froze, jaws hanging open. Even the referee seemed stunned. For a heartbeat, the world stopped.
Then—
"LYRRIIISEEE!!!"
The arena erupted, cheers and screams shaking the stands. Students leapt to their feet, chanting her name, some pounding the rails, others whistling.
It was victory.
I stood there, chest rising and falling, sweat trickling down my face. The scoreboard blared with my win. My hand trembled slightly from the force of the strike, but I lifted my chin, keeping my composure.
Inside, though… I sighed.
I need more training. A lot more. If a single dirty trick almost got me, I'm still not strong enough.
Even with the crowd's praise, that thought never left me.
The arena was still buzzing when I stepped down from the ring. My pulse was finally steadying, but before I could even take another breath, a strong arm hooked around my shoulders.
"Not bad," Soryn said with a crooked smirk, pulling me close like it was nothing. "Didn't think you had that in you, kitten."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop the small smile tugging at my lips. "You're just jealous it wasn't you who sent her flying."
Kaelenna hurried up, practically glowing with pride. "You were amazing out there, Lyrrise! I swear, Selendra's face when you hit her—" she broke off into laughter, clutching her side.
Deyon popped a piece of candy into his mouth, grinning lazily. "Told you she'd snap. Guess Barbie wasn't ready for a real fight."
And then Cyril appeared. He didn't say much—he never did—but the way his eyes lingered on me, sharp yet oddly soft, was enough. That was all I needed.
Together, the five of us drifted back toward the festival. The night was alive again: music echoing through the streets, lanterns floating, the scent of food stalls curling in the air. It was as if nothing had happened, as if the duel had only been another spark for celebration.
Whispers followed us everywhere.
"She beat Selendra…"
"Did you see how far she flew?"
"They're rivals now—Selendra and Lyrrise, the strongest!"
I ignored them all. I didn't care about titles or rivalries. The only thing that mattered was the warmth of Kaelenna's laughter, Soryn's steady weight on my shoulder, Deyon's smug grin, and Cyril walking just close enough to brush against my arm.
But as we passed Selendra still struggling to stand, clutching her chest with a face twisted in fury, I couldn't help but pause.
I tilted my head, smirked, and called out sweetly, "Need me to help you up, Barbie?"
Her eyes flashed with pure venom, and for a second, I thought she'd lunge. But she didn't. She just glared, teeth gritted, as I walked away with my friends.
For the first time in a long while, I felt… free.
The festival stretched late into the night, laughter spilling through the streets like music. Lanterns bobbed overhead, glowing against the Dris sky, and my friends were caught up in the rhythm of it—Kaelenna bartering for sweets, Soryn arguing with Deyon over who could throw a dagger straighter, Cyril watching quietly from the edge as always.
But even with the lights, the warmth, the noise… my chest felt hollow.
Where were Rael and Lior?
I hadn't heard from them since that night. No scratch at my window, no feline silhouette curling up at my feet, no low voice telling me not to worry. Nothing. Just silence.
What if Aralin…?
I shook the thought away before it could swallow me. No—I had to believe in them. They were strong. They'd come back when they wanted to, smug and sharp-tongued as always. I just had to keep smiling. For now.
I lifted my gaze to the sky, trying to let the sun and clouds distract me, when my heart stopped.
High above the rooftops, standing where no normal person should have been, was a cloaked figure. A long cape rippled in the wind, and their face was hidden in shadow, completely obscured. My pulse hammered as I narrowed my eyes.
For a fleeting moment, my chest eased. Rael?
A smile broke across my lips before I could stop it. He always had a way of showing up like that—distant, watching, but still there.
But the longer I looked, the more wrong it felt. The build was different. The posture wasn't Rael's lazy confidence. This presence was heavier, darker, and when the figure tilted their head toward me, something twisted in my gut.
And then—
They vanished.
Not with a step, not with a leap—just gone. As if they'd been nothing more than smoke in the air.
I froze, my smile faltering, my hands curling into fists at my sides.
That wasn't Rael.
That was someone else.
And my blood ran cold when I realized exactly who it might be.