Mira woke up to a dull ache in her body. Training had taken its toll, and every muscle felt like it had been wrung out. Yet, despite the soreness, there was a buzzing excitement beneath her skin.
She had flown yesterday. Not perfectly, not gracefully, but she had done it.
A small victory.
She rubbed her eyes and pulled herself out of bed, catching a glimpse of the early morning light pouring through her window. Today, she would learn something new. Today, she wouldn't fail.
Just as she was about to grab her robe, a knock sounded at her door.
"Come in," she called, expecting Celvia or Rhyshe.
Instead, Ren stepped in.
Mira blinked. Of all people, why was he here?
Ren leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed, his blue-black eyes assessing her like he was debating whether she was worth his time. "You look like you got run over by a horse."
Mira scowled, brushing a hand through her tangled hair. "Good morning to you too."
Ren tilted his head slightly, studying her. "Are you sure you're fit to train?"
Mira straightened her posture, ignoring the way her legs protested. "I'm fine."
Ren didn't look convinced. He was watching her too closely, too intently. It made her stomach twist. "You collapsed two days in a row."
Mira clenched her jaw. "That won't happen again."
Ren exhaled through his nose, an unreadable emotion flickering in his eyes. "Whatever you say, war goddess."
Mira froze. "What?"
Ren smirked, as if he hadn't just uttered something that made her chest constrict. "Nothing." He turned to leave. "Celvia is waiting for you."
Mira stared after him, a strange unease curling inside her. War goddess. Why did that phrase feel like a thread pulled from something long forgotten?
The training grounds felt different today—thicker with magic, the air more charged than usual. Mira stepped onto the grassy field where Celvia stood, waiting with her usual calm.
Rhyshe perched on a nearby tree, swinging her legs over the branch. "Get ready, Mira. Today's lesson is gonna be fun."
Mira raised an eyebrow. "Define fun."
Celvia gestured for her to step closer. "We'll be working on "Nexira Tha Vanorelle."
—the invisibility spell."
Mira's heart skipped. Invisibility? Now that could be useful.
Celvia flicked her wrist, and suddenly she wasn't there. One moment, Mira was staring at her teacher—the next, Celvia vanished like mist.
Mira's mouth fell open. "That was—"
Before she could finish, Celvia's voice whispered from behind her. "If used correctly, this spell can turn you completely undetectable. No footprints, no shadow, no presence."
Mira whirled around as Celvia reappeared, a faint shimmer outlining her form before fading.
"Holy—" Mira exhaled. "That's insane."
Celvia smiled. "Now you try."
Mira took a steadying breath, recalling the incantation Celvia had demonstrated:
"Nexira Tha Vanorelle."
She focused, reaching for the magic inside her. For a brief second, she felt the shift—the air bending around her, her form blurring at the edges.
Then, it snapped back.
Mira let out a frustrated sigh.
"Again," Celvia instructed, patient but firm.
Mira gritted her teeth and tried once more. This time, she concentrated harder—imagining herself blending into the surroundings, dissolving into the air.
A shiver ran down her spine. The world warped, the light bent—and suddenly, she felt weightless, unseen.
Rhyshe gasped. "Mira?"
"I think—" Mira started, only to see her hands flicker back into view. The spell broke.
Rhyshe clapped excitedly. "You did it for like, three seconds! That's impressive."
Mira groaned. Not good enough.
Celvia, however, looked intrigued. "You learn fast. That's rare."
Mira wiped sweat from her brow. Fast wasn't good enough. She had to master this.
As Mira continued practicing, Ren stood on the sidelines, watching.
She was improving too quickly. Too quickly.
It took months—years—for students to grasp the basics of advanced spells like invisibility. Yet Mira was already bending light, already tapping into something most struggled with.
His conversation with the Grandmaster replayed in his mind.
She is sealed. If she does not awaken it soon, we will not be able to control what follows.
Ren clenched his fists.
Mira was changing. And if she changed too fast, would they be able to stop it?
The White House was silent by midnight, but Mira couldn't sleep.
She sat by her window, staring at the moonlit garden below. Her magic still pulsed inside her, restless, waiting.
She hesitated, then lifted her palm, summoning a small flicker of fire. It danced at her fingertips, ordinary and warm.
Then—the color shifted.
Blue. White. Not normal. Not mortal.
Mira's breath caught.
The flame flared, brighter than before. Her body tensed as a strange memory flickered behind her eyes—golden temples, a battlefield of ash, a voice calling a name that wasn't hers but felt like it was.
Her pulse pounded.
Then, suddenly—the flame extinguished.
Mira gasped, clutching her chest.
Something inside her was waking up.
And she was terrified.