The day had advanced, and the Shadow Palace was filled with a quiet unrest. The candidates had spent most of the morning in the palace library, where ancient texts about the Aren and stories of queens past were stacked on dusty shelves. But now, it was time for more tangible, more physical training. Sophia knew that to survive the Aren, knowledge would not be enough; she would need strength, skill, and above all, a mind sharp as steel.
Sophia, dressed in tight training clothes, made her way through the palace halls towards the weapons room. All around her, shadows seemed to follow her, whispering secrets she wasn't ready to hear yet. Upon arriving, she found a group of high-ranking demons already gathered, supervising the candidates as they practiced.
The other young women were already there, each immersed in their own exercises. Elara wielded a whip made of poisonous thorns that responded to her movements with deadly precision. Calantha danced through the shadows, each step a blur of speed as she threw knives with a precision that defied the laws of nature. Xanthe honed her voice skills, projecting sound waves that shattered training dummies. Lysandra meditated in a corner, surrounded by a silver aura that glowed with an unearthly light, her eyes closed in deep concentration.
Sophia made her way to a table where a silver rapier rested, its blade bright and sharp, with ancient inscriptions glowing softly in the dim light of the room. It was a custom-made weapon. As she took it in her hand, she felt a comforting familiarity, as if the weapon recognized her touch.
She started with basic moves, a graceful flow of cuts and thrusts she remembered from her lessons at the mansion. But as the practice progressed, Sophia noticed someone watching her closely. Turning, she found herself staring into the dark eyes of Nyx, the Queen of the Night, who stood at a safe distance, her arms crossed and an unreadable expression on her face.
"Your technique is good," Nyx commented, approaching slowly, "but there is something in you that needs polishing. The Aren is not just a matter of skill; it is a game of survival."
Sophia held the queen's gaze, trying to decipher the purpose behind her words.
"I am willing to learn, Queen Nyx," she replied firmly.
Nyx gave a slight smile, but her eyes remained emotionless.
—I hope so, Sophia. Because in this game, shadows hide not only dangers, but also opportunities. You have to learn to see in the darkness, to move with it, and to use it to your advantage.
Without waiting for a reply, Nyx stepped away, her footsteps so quiet Sophia could barely hear them. The young demon took a deep breath, understanding the gravity of the queen's advice. She must adapt, she must become more cunning, stronger, if she was to survive and claim her place on the throne at Kael's side.
The training continued for hours, until fatigue began to set in on Sophia's muscles. But as the other candidates retreated, she decided to stay a little longer, wanting to take advantage of every second to improve. Her mind, however, began to wander to dark thoughts, memories she believed she had left behind when she died in her previous life.
Flashes of her past illness came back to her like specters. The weakness in her body, the desperation in her human parents' eyes, the endless days in a sterile hospital. It was a brutal contrast to the life she had now, in a world where magic flowed like air and death was nothing more than an obstacle. But those memories also reminded her of her promise, the promise to live fully in this new world and not to let herself be defeated by anything or anyone.
Suddenly, a shadow moved in her peripheral vision. Sophia turned, instinctively grasping her rapier. In front of her stood Calantha, her expression calm, but with a dangerous glint in her eyes.
"You shouldn't train alone, Sophia," Calantha said softly, but there was a sharp edge to her words. "You might run into something you can't handle."
Sophia stood her ground, not letting her guard down. There was something about the way Calantha looked at her that told her it wasn't just a friendly warning.
"I can handle myself," Sophia replied, her voice cold.
Calantha stepped forward, her shadows dancing around her as if they were alive. She leaned in slightly, whispering just enough for only Sophia to hear.
—The Arena is more than a competition, it's a battle of wills. Make no mistake, we're all here to win, and not all of us play fair.
With those words, Calantha retreated, her shadows dissipating into the darkness surrounding the training hall. Sophia felt a chill run down her spine, but she didn't let fear take over. She knew Calantha was partly right; she was alone in this competition, and trusting anyone would be her downfall.
Sophia exhaled slowly, finally lowering her weapon. The day was over, but she knew what was to come would be even more challenging. Calantha and Nyx's words blended together in her mind, forming a clear picture of what she must do.
As she left the armory and returned to her chambers, Sophia made a promise to herself: she would use the shadows around her to grow stronger, more cunning, and she would not let the past, nor the threats of her rivals, distract her from her goal. In this game of shadows, she would learn to master the darkness.