The sound of metal clashing echoed through the training ground as I deflected Lyra's strike. The morning sun angled perfectly through the trees, casting long shadows that played to my advantage.
"You're getting faster," Lyra noted, her composure unshaken despite the intensity of our spar. She spun her spear with precision, aiming towards my left side.
I parried the attack, feeling the force of her strength through the hilt of my sword. "And you're hitting harder," I replied, dodging to the right as a spark of lightning crackled from her fingertips, running down the spear and striking where I had been.
Weeks had passed since Amara showed me the piece of fabric from my mother's family. At first, she'd stopped me from opening the frame, but nothing happened when I did. It seemed likely that a hex was used as a defense mechanism, though the reason behind it remained unclear. The fabric, which turned out to be a cloak, constantly shifted as if made of darkness itself. Amara reluctantly let me keep it, and I had locked it away in my room.
"Focus, Ansel," Lyra chided with a smirk as her spear arced toward me again. I barely managed to parry, the force of the blow sending a jolt up my arm. "You're getting distracted."
"I'm fine," I muttered, though I knew she was right. My thoughts were scattered, preoccupied with the cloak and its implications.
I took a deep breath, centering myself again as she struck once more. This time, I parried her attack, forcing her spear into the ground and making her take a step back. I pressed my advantage with quick strikes. Her longer spear gave her a reach advantage, but I had improved enough to keep her on edge, making her react swiftly to my attacks.
Suddenly, she spun away, creating distance between us. Her smile revealed her determination—she wasn't just sparring with me; she was preparing seriously for the competition.
But so was I.
Lyra charged forward, lightning crackling around her spear. As I met her spear with my blade, something changed. My vision sharpened, and my reflexes quickened. I parried her strike and immediately countered with a slash. Lyra's eyes widened in surprise as I moved with newfound speed, blocking and countering her attacks with precision. My sword felt lighter, the weight of my previous struggles seemingly melting away.
"You're faster than when we started," Lyra said, her tone a mix of admiration and challenge. She increased her pace, her spear weaving a complex pattern of strikes and thrusts. I met her each time, my blade moving in perfect harmony with her spear.
When Lyra aimed a particularly forceful strike, I ducked and rolled, springing back to my feet with a fluidity that left her momentarily off-balance.
"Something's different," she noted, her eyes locked on me as she readied herself for the next strike.
Adjusting my stance, I leaped forward, shadow-stepping behind Lyra and striking with a speed she barely had time to react to. Her spear clattered to the ground as she spun to face me, astonishment in her eyes. "What was that?"
I shrugged. "To be honest, I don't know myself. I've been training late at night to improve my skills."
As she went to pick up her spear, she smirked. "Well, it seems like that training is paying off. Looks like I need to step up my own training or be left behind."
"Seems like it," I laughed, though I couldn't shake a feeling of unease. Sure, I'd been training late at night, but something felt off.
"Seems like it's lunchtime already," Lyra said, breaking my train of thought. "Wanna go eat?"
"Sure," I replied, and we left the training grounds for the cafeteria.
As we entered the dining hall, the lively chatter of students created a familiar hum that eased the tension of the morning's training. The scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meats mingled with earthy herbs, making my stomach growl in anticipation. Lyra and I found an empty table by the windows, sunlight casting warm patterns on the wooden surface.
"Think they have those berry tarts today?" Lyra asked, her eyes scanning the food spread across the hall. "I've been craving one since last week."
"You and your sweet tooth," I teased.
"Well, I'm going to get my food," she said, standing up. "You coming?"
I shook my head. "I'll get something in a bit. You go ahead."
As she walked off, I looked around the dining hall. I spotted a few familiar faces from the student council. Liora Valen, the treasurer, sat at a nearby table, her golden hair catching the sunlight as she chatted excitedly with friends. Even from here, I could sense her commanding presence.
Further down, I noticed Justin Hale, the secretary, eating alone with his usual stoic expression, unbothered by the hall's noise.
I then spotted Lumi in a corner at the back, eating alone as usual. Her face was unreadable as she picked at her food. There was something intriguing about Lumi, something more mysterious than her demeanor—like a puzzle I couldn't quite solve. Despite her distance, I felt a strange pull toward her, as if she was hiding something.
Just as I was about to look away, she raised her head, and our eyes met for a brief moment. In that brief moment I felt an intense feeling coming off of her before she looked away and went back to eating.
"What are you looking at?" Lyra's voice jolted me back to reality. I noticed her with two plates of food.
"Nothing," I said quickly, though her skeptical look suggested she wasn't entirely convinced. "Just thinking."
Lyra sat down, raising an eyebrow as she placed one plate in front of me and took a bite of her bread. "So, any thoughts on who else might make the cut for the Valorian Champions? Besides us, I mean."
I shrugged, considering. "Michael's pretty confident in his choices, but I haven't seen many of the other second-years in action. Aiden and Isla seem less certain, though."
"Yeah, especially Isla," Lyra agreed. "She's got her hands full with the fourth-years. There's a lot of pressure this year with exams and everything. But I think Lumi could be a wild card."
"Lumi, huh?" I said, recalling how she quickly defeated her opponent. "She definitely has the skill, but it's her mindset that interests me. She's driven, almost like she has something to prove."
Lyra nodded, her expression growing serious. "Everyone has their reasons for fighting. For some, it's about honor; for others, legacy or redemption. I think Lumi's fight is more personal."
Her words resonated deeply with me. I knew what it was like to fight for something personal—to train harder and push further because of something or someone you couldn't forget. My thoughts briefly flickered to my sister in the hospital and the cloak hidden away in my room. I quickly pushed the memories aside, focusing on the present.
The rest of the week passed quickly, my busy schedule keeping me distracted. It was now Saturday, and I had planned to study at the library and perhaps play some games later. But those plans went straight out the window when Amara found me at breakfast.
"There you are," she said, sliding into the seat across from me, her face tense. "I've been looking for you. We have a situation."
I raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-bite. "What kind of situation?"
Amara sighed, glancing around the dining hall to ensure no one was listening. "We've been challenged by another school to a three-on-three duel."