The weekend morning in Aeloria City carried a different rhythm than the school week.
No lecture bells rang across the upper districts. No instructors barked schedules through academy halls. The city still moved, but with looser shoulders and easier breath. Merchants opened shutters at their own pace. Street performers tuned instruments in sunlit plazas. Families drifted through the avenues without urgency, children darting between market stalls while parents pretended not to notice.
Through it all walked three students of Celestara Academy.
Their uniforms marked them instantly.
Black tailored coats threaded with silver along the seams and cuffs, the stitching catching light whenever they moved. High collars sat crisp against their necks. Dark trousers and polished boots completed the formal look, practical enough for movement but unmistakably prestigious. At each of their chests rested the academy badge—silver insignia gleaming against black cloth, a symbol recognized throughout the kingdom.
Wearing it in public wasn't optional.
It was required.
Anna walked between Lara and Kaelen, hands clasped behind her back, pink hair bright against the dark uniform like a deliberate challenge to regulation. Her expression was lighter than it had been days ago, though her eyes still tracked everything with quiet awareness.
Lara moved with purpose beside her, satchel slung across one shoulder, posture steady and practical as ever.
Kaelen strolled on Anna's other side with hands in his pockets, looking far too relaxed for someone dressed in immaculate academy formalwear.
They descended from the upper avenues toward the market district, where the streets widened and the scent of baked bread, spice, and fresh-cut flowers replaced the cleaner stone air of the academy quarter.
Anna glanced sideways at Lara.
"Have you heard anything from your family yet?" she asked.
Lara's expression softened, though she shook her head. "Not yet."
She adjusted the strap of her satchel and let out a small breath through her nose.
"We don't exactly have the gold for magic messages," she said. "No crystal relays. No courier mages. That sort of thing costs more than people think."
Kaelen glanced over. "So how do they reply?"
Lara gave a faint shrug.
"The normal way. Ink, paper, and patience."
A small smile touched her mouth.
"All our letters come by carriage."
Anna frowned slightly, genuine confusion in her voice.
"But… you sent them all that money," she said. "Couldn't they use some of it for faster messages?"
Lara shook her head at once.
"No."
The answer came firm, but warm.
"I want that gold going toward the family. Toward the house. Toward my little brother and sister having things we never had." She adjusted her satchel again, eyes forward as the streets grew busier around them. "Proper food. Better clothes. Repairs that don't get pushed off another winter."
Her expression softened.
"And besides," she added, a laugh hiding in her voice, "they're not magic-savvy at all. They wouldn't even know something like crystal messaging exists."
Kaelen snorted. "Fair point."
Lara chuckled then, the sound brighter now.
"I can already picture my dad's face when he reads my letter."
Anna smiled. "Oh?"
Lara nodded, grinning to herself.
"Me writing home that I'm a Blue Realm mage now."
She let out another laugh, shaking her head.
"He'll probably read it three times, assume I made a mistake, then ask the neighbors if Blue comes before Brown or after it."
Even Kaelen laughed at that.
Lara's smile lingered, softer this time.
"And my mom," she said quietly, "she'll act like she didn't know either… just to spare his pride."
For a moment, the three of them walked in comfortable silence.
The streets around them grew fuller as they neared the market district. Vendors rolled carts into position. Shopkeepers swept their thresholds. The scent of hot bread drifted from a bakery tucked between a tailor and a bookseller, mixing with spice smoke and fresh fruit from nearby stalls.
Anna glanced at Lara, warmth in her eyes.
"They're going to be so proud of you."
Lara's smile turned shy at once. She looked away, pretending sudden interest in a passing flower stand.
"Maybe," she said. "After they recover from the shock."
Kaelen smirked. "No, your father's going to tell everyone within three streets by sundown."
Lara groaned. "Absolutely."
She dropped her voice into a rough imitation of him.
"Did I mention my daughter's a Blue Realm mage? No? Strange, because I've only said it twelve times."
Anna laughed so suddenly she had to cover her mouth.
Even Kaelen's composure cracked into a real grin.
Lara shook her head, but she was smiling too.
"He'll make up half of it by the second telling," she said. "By the third, I'll have dueled a professor and won."
"That sounds believable enough," Kaelen said dryly.
Anna bumped Lara lightly with her shoulder.
"You should let him."
Lara blinked. "What?"
Anna's expression was gentle, certain.
"Let him brag."
The noise of the city seemed to soften for a heartbeat around them.
"He's earned that much too."
Lara's smile faded into something quieter, more thoughtful.
She opened her mouth to answer—
Then the sound cut through the street.
A woman screamed.
It came from somewhere ahead in the market district, sharp and raw enough to slice through conversation, cart wheels, merchant calls, and morning laughter all at once.
Everything stopped.
Heads turned in unison. Vendors froze with hands still on crates. A horse reared against its harness. Birds burst upward from a nearby rooftop in a frantic scatter of wings.
The scream came again.
Closer now. More desperate.
Anna's body moved before thought caught up. Her posture straightened, eyes locking toward the source.
Kaelen's easy expression vanished instantly.
Lara was already reaching for the satchel at her side.
Down the street, people began stumbling backward from an intersection where the crowd was breaking apart in sudden panic. Something was wrong. Badly wrong.
The air itself seemed to tighten.
Then Anna ran toward the scream.
Lara didn't hesitate for even a heartbeat.
She ran after Anna at once, boots striking stone in sharp rhythm, one hand gripping the strap of her satchel to keep it from bouncing loose. Whatever fear the scream might have carried was buried beneath instinct. Move first. Think after.
Kaelen cursed under his breath and sprinted after both of them.
"Anna—wait—!"
None of them slowed.
They cut through the crowd as people scattered the other way, slipping between overturned baskets, dodging a dropped crate of apples that rolled across the street, shoving past bystanders too stunned to move. Panic spread outward in ripples—shopkeepers pulling shutters closed, pedestrians fleeing side alleys, merchants dragging children behind counters.
Then they reached the intersection.
And stopped.
Five men controlled the square.
They were rough-looking, hard-faced, dressed in mismatched leathers and travel gear meant more for intimidation than protection. Knives flashed in their hands. One carried a crude staff capped with a dull crystal that leaked unstable sparks of mana into the air.
At the center of it all, a woman was being held from behind, one thug's arm locked around her shoulders while a knife pressed tight to her throat. Tears streaked her face. She trembled so hard her knees threatened to give out.
"Everyone back!" the man shouted wildly. "Back or she bleeds!"
To the left, another of the gang was ransacking a market stall, sweeping coin boxes and goods into a sack while the elderly vendor cowered on the ground beside shattered jars.
The others spread out around them like guard dogs, blades drawn, eyes darting between the crowd and any fool brave enough to step closer.
The street had gone silent except for ragged breathing, quiet sobbing, and the crackle of unstable mana from the staff.
Anna gave Lara a single glance.
Nothing dramatic. No spoken plan. No signal anyone else would have noticed.
But Lara understood instantly.
She gave one sharp nod.
Kaelen saw it a second too late.
"Wait—don't—"
Anna was already gone.
She exploded forward with terrifying speed, black academy coat snapping behind her as she crossed the stone in a blur. Gasps tore through the crowd. Even the thugs flinched, their eyes struggling to track her movement.
She hit the side of a market cart in one stride and vaulted upward. Wood cracked beneath the force.
Her next step landed on the stretched canvas awning of a spice stall. The fabric dipped hard under her weight—then launched her higher.
Before gravity could claim her, Anna planted one foot against the wall of the building beside the square. Stone fractured under the impact.
She kicked off.
And came down like a falling spear.
The man holding the woman barely had time to widen his eyes before Anna's fist slammed into the side of his face.
BOOM.
The impact detonated through the intersection in a violent shockwave. Nearby shutters rattled. Loose fruit rolled across the street. Dust burst from the stone beneath them.
The thug was ripped off his feet and hurled across the square like he'd been struck by a siege hammer. He crashed through a stack of empty crates in a splintering explosion of wood and didn't rise.
His knife spun away across the cobblestones.
The woman collapsed to her knees, free and sobbing.
Shock froze everyone for half a heartbeat.
Then the mage with the staff jerked toward Anna, mana surging wildly into the crystal tip.
Too slow.
Lara was already inside his reach.
She came up from beneath his line of sight like fire given shape, boots sliding across stone as flame wrapped her arm in a blazing spiral. Her fist drove upward into his ribs with explosive force.
The fire punch landed like a cannon shot.
The man folded around it, breath blasting from his lungs as the staff flew from his hands and clattered across the street. Flames burst outward in a brief ring of heat.
He left the ground.
The other three broke instantly.
Whatever bravado they'd worn vanished the moment two of their own were dropped in seconds. Knives clattered from suddenly numb hands as they turned and ran in three different directions, shoving through one another in blind panic.
"Move! Move!" one of them shouted.
They made it two steps.
Kaelen thrust both hands downward.
The cobblestones answered.
Stone cracked in sharp lines beneath the fleeing men as earth mana surged through the street. Chunks of pavement rose and twisted around their ankles like iron jaws.
All three screamed as their legs were yanked out from under them.
They hit the ground hard—one face-first, another on his shoulder, the third sprawling onto his back with the wind blasted from his lungs.
Before any of them could recover, Kaelen clenched his fists.
The broken stone flowed again.
Bands of rock snapped over their wrists, pinning their hands behind their backs and locking them to the street itself. One thug tried to wrench free and only succeeded in scraping skin against unmoving stone. Another began babbling curses that turned quickly into pleading.
Kaelen walked forward slowly, breathing hard, eyes colder than either Anna or Lara had ever seen.
"You picked the wrong street," he said.
The market remained silent for one stunned heartbeat.
Then the crowd erupted.
Boots thundered from the far end of the avenue.
A squad of city guards pushed through the crowd in formation, shields forward, spears raised, expecting chaos and bloodshed. Their captain barked orders as they advanced.
"Clear the street! Weapons ready!"
Then they saw the square.
Five criminals down.
One unconscious in shattered crates. One groaning in the street beside a dropped staff. Three more pinned helplessly to the cobblestones by cleanly controlled earth bindings. The hostage alive. Civilians shaken, but standing.
The guards slowed.
Several exchanged looks.
This was not the scene they had prepared for.
The captain's gaze moved past the criminals and settled on the three students in black uniforms threaded with silver, academy badges catching the sunlight.
Recognition came immediately.
Celestara Academy.
His posture eased by a degree. He lowered one hand, signaling his squad to secure the prisoners rather than escalate. Guards moved in at once, collecting weapons, checking the unconscious men, and taking control of the scene.
The captain approached Anna, Lara, and Kaelen calmly, helmet tucked beneath one arm.
"Students," he said, voice professional and measured. "I'm going to need the situation."
There was no accusation in it. No suspicion.
Only the practical assumption that if academy students were standing at the center of a resolved crisis, their version would be worth hearing.
Anna straightened. "We heard a woman scream from the market road," she said. "When we arrived, they were armed, one had a hostage, and they were robbing stalls."
Lara gestured toward the fallen mage. "He was channeling unstable mana through that staff. Dangerous enough to hurt civilians if he'd fired."
Kaelen nodded toward the bound trio. "The others attempted to flee. I restrained them."
The captain listened without interrupting, eyes flicking from the students to the evidence around them. The broken crates. The dropped knives. The crying hostage now being comforted by nearby merchants.
He gave a single approving nod.
"Understood."
Then, from somewhere in the crowd—half-hidden behind a fruit cart and a wall of onlookers—came the sharp click of a shutter crystal.
A picture was taken.
Before Anna could turn to find who had taken the picture, the rescued woman stumbled toward her.
Her hands shook. Tears still streamed down her face.
Then she threw her arms around Anna without hesitation.
"Thank you," she sobbed. "Thank you, thank you—"
Anna stiffened in surprise for only a heartbeat before gently returning the embrace.
"It's alright," she said softly. "You're safe now. Just breathe, okay? You're safe."
The woman clung to her like someone afraid the ground might vanish beneath her. Anna rested a steadying hand between her shoulders, speaking low and calm while the market slowly exhaled around them.
"It's over," Anna murmured. "No one's going to hurt you."
As the woman trembled against her, Anna's hair band—loosened during the fight—slipped free.
It fell unnoticed to the cobblestones.
A cascade of pink hair spilled over her shoulders, bright and unmistakable in the morning light.
The square went still.
The guard captain's eyes widened.
He had seen that hair before—at ceremonies, from palace processions, in portraits carried through the city after the capital's darkest days.
There was only one student in the academy. Only one person in the kingdom.
His breath caught.
"By the gods…" he whispered.
Then louder—shocked and horrified all at once.
"Princess Anna Crestwood."
Every guard in earshot froze.
Then, as one, they dropped to their knees. Spears lowered. Heads bowed.