The Kaine, Dros, and Veyra families had all received reports of the skybeast incident, though none more directly than the Veyras. For Feyla, it meant her quiet days at home were nothing of the sort. Her family estate, a sprawling complex carved near the coast, carried the ever-present sound of waves colliding with stone walls. It was a beautiful cage.
Her mother, Seris Veyra, stood at the edge of the training pool. She was a tall woman whose presence felt like the tide itself—calm one moment, overwhelming the next. "Again," Seris commanded, her voice steady but demanding.
Feyla raised her arms, pulling the lake before her into motion. The water churned as if pulled by invisible strings, rising high enough to expose the stone bed beneath. Her arms trembled as she tried to hold it steady, droplets spraying across her face.
"Higher."
The command left no room for refusal. Feyla grit her teeth and forced more power through her veins. The lake rose further, its surface curling into arcs like liquid pillars. The sight would have stunned anyone else, but Seris simply folded her arms.
"You've been hiding your true control," her mother said, stepping closer. "At the academy, you hold back. Why?"
Feyla hesitated, sweat dripping down her brow. "It's not… hiding. I just—"
The lake faltered, crashing back down with a roar that soaked the stones. Feyla staggered, gasping for breath. Seris shook her head, water sliding harmlessly off her robes.
"You think restraint makes you safe? That others will accept you more if you act smaller than you are? No, child. The world will not reward you for silence. It will consume you."
Feyla's fingers curled at her sides. She wanted to argue, but the words stuck in her throat. She had seen enough at the academy to know her mother wasn't entirely wrong. Yet, she also remembered Kael—his stubbornness, his persistence even when branded a Blank. He didn't push forward because of power. He pushed because of will.
Her mother must have seen the flicker in her eyes because she narrowed her gaze. "You're distracted."
Feyla looked down quickly. "No, I'm not."
Seris didn't press the issue. Instead, she gestured again. "One last time. Lift the lake until you can see every stone beneath. If you fail, we'll continue until you succeed. The families are watching closely now, and they expect strength."
The words hit harder than the training itself. Feyla knew what her mother meant. The skybeast attack wasn't just another mission gone wrong—it had drawn the attention of the families, who wanted to know why so many beasts had gathered and why the academy had barely survived. There were whispers that spies were watching, even among the students.
Taking a deep breath, Feyla reached for the water once more. She poured everything she had into her focus, shaping it not as a blunt wave but as threads, each tugging upward until the entire body of water began to climb. Slowly, painstakingly, the lake floor revealed itself—an expanse of jagged stone, slick with algae but visible.
Her arms burned, but she held it.
A rare smile tugged at Seris' lips. "Better. You're beginning to understand."
The moment lasted only seconds before Feyla let go, the water crashing back with a thunderous slap. She fell to her knees, drained but strangely relieved.
Her mother turned away. "Rest for tonight. Tomorrow, we continue. The academy won't shield you forever, Feyla. You must be ready when the time comes."
When the sound of her mother's footsteps faded, Feyla lay back on the cool stone floor. Her chest rose and fell with sharp breaths, her limbs trembling from exertion. The words the families are watching echoed in her mind.
Her gaze drifted upward toward the sliver of stars visible through the open roof. For a moment, she imagined Kael under the same sky—training, fighting, surviving. He had been carried into the academy half-dead, and yet something in him refused to break. She envied that quiet defiance, even as she feared it would destroy him.
She pressed her damp palms over her face, frustration biting at her edges. What am I doing? she asked herself. I can't afford to think about him like this. Not when everything around me is being watched.
Still, she couldn't push the thought away. His image lingered—the stubborn boy who had once stood where everyone thought he'd fall. The boy who somehow kept moving forward.
Feyla rolled onto her side, closing her eyes. Tomorrow, her training would resume, harsher than ever. But for now, in this brief moment of quiet, she allowed herself the smallest, most dangerous luxury—hoping Kael was safe.