[POV: Liselotte]

  The midday sun bathed the sand of the training coliseum, where dust still lingered in the air after the dispy of strength we had just put on. After my confrontation with Valen, Professor Korg showed no mercy and ordered new matchups. This time, Leah and Chloé were to face Maya and Elina. Though they were our new friends, in Korg’s arena there was no room for sentimentality.

  The fight was a dance of contrasts. Maya moved with surprising agility, a legacy of years spent running through the merchant districts, while Elina tried to maintain a solid defense with her wooden spear, calcuting every angle with geometric precision. However, they were no match for pure instinct.

  Chloé didn’t fight like a student; she fought like a predator. At times she moved on all fours, dodging Elina’s thrusts with impossible twists, only to reappear behind Maya in the blink of an eye. Leah, meanwhile, proved that her years of survival had not been in vain, blocking Maya’s attacks with a calm that drove the brown-haired girl to desperation. Finally, in a coordinated sweep—Chloé destabilizing both opponents while Leah pced her wooden sword at Maya’s throat—the fight ended.

  “Incredible! I couldn’t even see where that wolf girl came from!” Maya excimed, sitting down in the sand and panting as she struggled to catch her breath. “Your reflexes are honestly terrifying.”

  Elina adjusted her gsses, which had miraculously stayed in pce. “Technically speaking, Chloé’s speed exceeds the limits of basic human kinematics. It’s fascinating… and very painful.”

  “Good fight, girls,” Leah said, extending a hand to help Maya up. “You have excellent coordination. With a bit more physical strength, you would have put us in real trouble.”

  Chloé merely snorted and brushed the dust from her uniform. “What I have is a hunger that’s about to make me eat my own boots. Can we go to the dining hall now, or do I have to defeat someone else first?”

  The Academy’s dining hall was an enormous chamber with vaulted ceilings and long oak tables where hundreds of students were already devouring their meals. The scent of freshly baked bread, beef stew, and fresh herbs filled the air, making even my stomach twist in anticipation.

  If anyone thought Chloé was delicate because of her appearance, that idea died the moment we reached the counter.

  “I want this. And this. And three of those. Is that pork leg meant for one person? Give me two,” Chloé ordered, to the cook’s stunned expression.

  Since Chloé gained that semi-human form, she had also gained an appetite that was difficult to satisfy…

  We sat at a somewhat secluded table—though not far enough to avoid the whispers. In front of Chloé was a mountain of food that defied the ws of physics: three bowls of stew, an entire loaf of bread, a jug of juice, and two trays of roasted meat.

  “Chloé… I think you’re going to explode,” Leah said, watching in horror as the wolf devoured a rib in a single bite.

  “Training without magic burns a lot of energy, Princess,” Chloé replied with her mouth half full. “And Lotte made me run st night like a dragon was chasing us. I need fuel.”

  Maya and Elina joined us, carrying far more reasonable trays. Maya couldn’t stop staring at Chloé’s pte with a mix of respect and fear.

  “Hey, Chloé, do you always eat like this?” Maya asked, spearing a piece of vegetable. “My dad says feeding an army is expensive, but I think feeding you is a logistical nightmare.”

  “Only when the food is free,” Chloé shot back, a mischievous glint in her golden eyes. “Besides, Lotte says I have to grow strong to protect them. So this is a state investment.”

  We ughed at that while Leah shared small anecdotes from our nights in the forest, when sometimes all we had were berries and dried meat. The atmosphere was warm, filled with the youthful camaraderie Leah had longed for so deeply. However, on the other side of the hall, the mood was very different.

  Valen and his group sat at a table surrounded by other noble-born students. Bandages covered their faces and patches wrapped their arms—remnants of the humiliation in the arena. They weren’t eating; they were simply watching us with a resentment that felt like a cold stab between the shoulder bdes. Valen whispered something into the ear of a third-year student, pointing at us, but they didn’t dare approach. They knew that, at least physically, they stood no chance.

  “Ignore them, Lotte,” Elina whispered, noticing my gaze. “Valen is a coward who only attacks when he has the advantage of rules. Right now, they’re pnning their revenge in magic css. That’s where nobles really feel superior.”

  “Let them try,” I replied, taking a sip of my juice. “Ice doesn’t care about bloodlines.”

  The afternoon led us to the Hall of Elemental Theory and Practice. It was a tiered cssroom with a central pit where students could cast spells under the supervision of Mistress Selene, a woman with a fragile appearance but a magical pressure that spoke of vast experience.

  Valen seemed to have recovered his arrogance the moment he entered the cssroom. He strutted between the desks, conjuring small sparks of fire between his fingers to impress those around him.

  “Alright, students,” Mistress Selene said, adjusting her robes. “Today we will review the invocation of basic projectiles. Magic is not just brute force; it is control and visualization. Princess Leah, please step into the pit. I’ve read that you have an affinity for fire. Show us a standard Fireball.”

  Leah nodded and descended gracefully. As she passed Valen’s desk, he let out a mocking chuckle, echoed by his friends.

  “I’m sure her ‘royal fire’ is as weak as her defense in the arena,” Valen muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Mistress, why don’t you let us show how it’s really done? My family has specialized in the pyric arts for generations.”

  Selene sighed, then nodded. “Very well, Valen. Show us an intermediate-level spell.”

  Valen descended into the pit, swollen with pride. He took his stance and began to recite a long, complex chant, gesturing theatrically. After several seconds of preparation, a fireball the size of a human head materialized before him, vibrating with considerable heat.

  “Fme Lance!” he shouted, hurling the projectile at a stone target, which exploded into fragments. “You see, Princess? This is real magic. Not those campfire tricks you probably learned in the bushes. An intermediate spell requires a will that noble blood guarantees.”

  Leah looked at him with a calm that surprised me. She wasn’t angry; she almost seemed amused.

  “Is that all, Valen?” Leah asked softly.

  “That all? I destroyed a rank-three target! Let’s see if you can do more than light a candle,” the boy sneered, returning to his seat amid appuse from his followers.

  Mistress Selene turned to Leah. “Princess, whenever you are ready.”

  Leah stepped into the center of the pit. She didn’t chant. She didn’t make unnecessary gestures. She simply closed her eyes and extended both arms to her sides. Within her, the fme forged in captivity and refined in the forests began to roar.

  Suddenly, the air in the cssroom became unbearably hot.

  “A single fireball is efficient,” Leah said, opening her eyes, now glowing with a supernatural orange hue. “But sometimes, quantity is a quality of its own.”

  Without warning, the air around Leah fractured. Small spheres of fire—white at their cores and red along the edges—began to appear. Ten, twenty, thirty… in a matter of seconds, more than fifty fireballs floated in the air, orbiting the princess like captive miniature suns.

  The cssroom fell into a deathly silence. Valen dropped his pen, his jaw hanging open. Mistress Selene stumbled back a step, bumping into her desk, her face pale with sheer terror.

  “Stop, Princess! That’s too much energy!” Selene cried, her voice trembling. “No one—no student—can sustain fifty mana flows at once! Even an experienced mage can only maintain two or three spells simultaneously!”

  Leah smiled—a small, dangerous smile that reminded me of William. “In a fight, if you only cast one fireball, the monsters reach you.”

  With a smooth gesture, Leah guided the fifty spheres into perfect synchronization, forming a fwless circle above the pit before they dissolved into a shower of harmless sparks. The residual heat was so intense that several students had to fan themselves with their books.

  Leah climbed the steps out of the pit and stopped in front of Valen’s desk. He looked like he was about to faint.

  “Your fire is pretty, Valen,” Leah said indifferently. “But it cks… reach.”

  She returned to our seats and sat beside me. Chloé patted her knee, ughing quietly.

  “That’s my princess,” Chloé whispered. “You left them more burned than the meat I ate at noon.”

  I looked at Leah, feeling immense pride. She didn’t need my magical protection today; her own will was more than enough to cim her pce. Still, I noticed Mistress Selene staring at her with a mixture of fear and suspicion, scribbling something frantically in her ledger.

  I knew what that look meant. Leah’s talent would not go unnoticed, and in an academy funded by the crown but watched by the Church, dispying such power was like lighting a beacon in the middle of the night.

  “Well done, Leah,” I whispered, taking her hand beneath the desk. “But be ready. Tomorrow, the whispers will be much louder.”

  Leah squeezed my hand, her gaze resolute. “Let them whisper, Lotte. I’m tired of hiding.”

  The first day at the Academy was coming to an end, and although we had won every battle, I knew the war of the goddesses was drawing ever closer to our doors.