Late that evening, Arteja sat by the window, staring out at the darkened courtyard. The moonlight bathed the orphanage in an eerie glow, casting long shadows across the stone walls.
Lirael joined her, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "You've been quiet all day."
Arteja sighed, resting her chin on her knees. "Do you ever wonder why we're here? Why we were chosen?"
Lirael frowned. "You mean, why the empire needs girls like us to fight its battles?"
Arteja nodded. "Sometimes it feels like we're just weapons—tools to be used and discarded."
Lirael was silent for a moment before placing a hand on Arteja's shoulder. "We're more than that. We're survivors. And when the time comes, we'll prove that we're more than just Wardens."
Arteja turned to her friend, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks, Lirael."
"Anytime," Lirael said, grinning. "Now, get some sleep. We've got another mission tomorrow."