The Star Iron ring on Phantsin's right hand dampened his Ignis magic.
To compensate for his newly acquired arcane weakness, Phantsin spent twice as much time in the gymnasium, lifting cast-iron weights and running along the steep trails surrounding the Academy.
Yet, he did not train alone.
Wherever Phantsin went, a deep gray shadow followed him—though he had never asked her to.
Rikka had taken her self-proclaimed role as his protector with absolute literalness.
Whenever Phantsin sat in the dining hall, Rikka claimed the adjacent table. She wouldn't even eat; instead, her amber eyes constantly tracked anyone who dared walk too close to him.
When he studied in the Athenaeum, she would perch atop a high bookshelf, cloaked in the shadows. The soft leather soles of her boots rendered her completely silent, a true testament to the doctrine of Cunning and Subterfuge taught by her faction, Umbra.
The situation, however, reached its boiling point during the new squad's first tactical meeting at the edges of the Great Crucible.
The Great Crucible was bathed in the golden light of the sunset. Eliana, Korbin, and Zephyr were there, and Phantsin had invited Lyla to join them, consolidating the group. They were sitting on the stone bleachers, reviewing the schedules for their simulated missions.
"We have a problem on the aerial flank for Thursday's exercise," Eliana said, tapping a parchment with the tip of her quill. "Zephyr, your Caelum speed is good, but your defense is nonexistent. If they shoot you down..."
Eliana paused and looked over Phantsin's shoulder.
"Dawnfire, why has the Umbra student been staring at my jugular for the past twenty minutes?"
The others followed her gaze.
Rikka was watching them, perched on a stone pillar some six feet off the ground. Her shirt sleeves were rolled up, her purple tie hung loose, and she had abandoned the standard gray skirt entirely in favor of tight black leather shorts that granted her absolute freedom of movement—a blatant violation of the uniform code. Her wolf ears stood erect, swiveling like radar dishes toward the group.
Realizing she had been spotted, Rikka executed a perfect leap, landing soundlessly beside Phantsin. She positioned herself slightly in front of him, like a guard dog blocking the path.
Zephyr, who was sitting on the lower step, shrank back instinctively.
"I swear to you, Phantsin," the Avariel muttered, eyes wide, "every time that girl looks at me, I feel like she's calculating how much cranberry sauce she'd need to eat me. My prey instinct is screaming."
Rikka shot him a sidelong glance, baring her fangs slightly and producing a low, raspy sound from deep within her throat. A growl.
Zephyr paled and scooted another yard away.
Korbin erupted into a booming, gravelly laugh, slapping his thigh in amusement.
"By my grandmother's beard, I like this girl! She's got fire! Or, well, shadows. Don't complain, little bird, maybe she'll teach you not to be so skittish."
Lyla Moonshadow observed Rikka with her deep emerald eyes. As a student of Nature, the elf saw something other than aggression; she saw raw instinct.
"It's a pack bond," Lyla said softly, tilting her head. "Beastkin magic is tied directly to their emotions. She has chosen you as her Alpha, Phantsin. It's a fascinating loyalty. And very rare."
"That's not loyalty, it's insubordination," Eliana cut in, standing up.
The princess of Aether crossed her arms, her posture radiating authority and discipline. She looked Rikka up and down with obvious disapproval.
"This is Arcanum Bellator, not a fighting pit in the slums. That uniform is a dress code violation. Your posture is undisciplined. And squads are supposed to be formed based on tactical order, not because an Umbra student decides to stalk an Ignis one."
Rikka tensed. Her gray tail, which had been wagging slightly from being near Phantsin, bristled like a wire brush.
To Rikka, Eliana represented everything she hated: nobility, arrogant rules, and an innate tone of superiority. Civilized precision versus raw survival instinct.
"Skirts are for stupid girls who want to trip and die," Rikka spat, her voice raspy, unaccustomed to long conversations. "And I don't take orders from ice princesses. Only from the Alpha."
"Do not call me princess, stray," Eliana retorted, her sapphire eyes flashing with indignation. "And if you want to be in this squad, you're going to have to learn what Duty and Discipline mean. You cannot go around growling at your allies."
"I bite anyone who gets too close to his back," Rikka growled, taking a defiant step toward the taller girl.
Eliana narrowed her eyes, her hand instinctively dropping to where her sword would rest. Rikka lowered her center of gravity, her hands brushing against the daggers hidden in her boots.
"Enough," Phantsin said.
He didn't raise his voice, but his tone was final.
He stood up, his towering stature casting a shadow over both girls.
"Rikka, this is Eliana. She is the team's strategist. We don't growl at her," Phantsin ordered, meeting her eyes.
Rikka's ears lowered slightly in submission, though she kept a sidelong glare locked on Eliana. "Yes, Alpha."
Phantsin turned toward Eliana.
"And Eliana, Rikka stays."
"Dawnfire, you can't just adopt rogue cadets," Eliana protested, frowning. "A squad of six destabilizes standard formations. Furthermore, her combat style is... feral. It doesn't fit with our tactics."
"I'll make her fit," Phantsin said. "I can't use high-tier offensive magic anymore, Eliana. You know that. This ring limits me. We need someone who can strike fast and silently. We need the tactical mobility that Umbra offers."
Phantsin looked at his teammates.
"Korb is our shield. Zephyr, our eyes. Lyla will be our healer. You are the mastermind. And me... I will be the anvil. But Rikka... Rikka will be the knife in the dark."
Silence fell over the group. Zephyr swallowed loudly. Lyla smiled warmly. Korbin nodded, approving of the assessment.
Eliana looked at Phantsin, noting the unwavering resolve in his crimson eyes and the physical toll he was now taking to compensate for his magical handicap. Then she looked at Rikka, who returned the glare with barely contained defiance.
The noble of Aether sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Fine. But if she tries to bite an instructor, you are writing the incident report, Dawnfire."
"Deal," Phantsin said.
Rikka smirked, showing a flash of her fangs. She moved closer to Phantsin, her tail resuming its gentle wagging, happy to have secured her place in the pack.
The new Squad finally felt complete. Ice, stone, wind, forest, the waning fire, and now, the shadow.