Dodging my stick, she jabs the knife back in my direction as she laughs, the sound light and musical, and I feel it tug at something deep inside me. “Don’t worry, Rylan. You’re safe… for now,” she promises before curling her fingers inward, making the knife transform back into a perfect sphere that she throws up into the air before making it dissolve into thin air. Damn. Now that she’s gotten over her fear, she’s learning fast.
“That’s a relief,” I say, chuckling, though my heart skips a beat at the way she says my name. In that first week after she’d learned who I really was, she’d barely spoken my name. And now when she does use it, I forget how it ever sounded on any other’s lips.
I give her a few more shapes to practise, each one more detailed than the last. For the last one, I have her recreate the statue of one of the realm’s rarest creatures, the drakor, that stands guard at the castle’s entrance courtyard. Critically inspecting her first attempt, I give her a few more tips on how to shape more intricate forms, and she adjusts, taking in every word. Within minutes, she’s recreated the shape perfectly.
Trying to keep my voice from showing how impressed I am, I instruct her, “Keep it there,” I gesture to her hand, “I want to see how long you can hold onto the shape while doing other things.”
We wander over to a bench by the side of the training grounds. Eira sits down, still cradling the miniature drakor, examining it with a mix of curiosity and pride. I sit beside her, closer than I should, but not as close as I want to.
“You picked that up faster than I expected,” I say, breaking the silence.
She glances at me, a small smile on her lips. “It’s easier withyou guiding me now. And not just yelling,” she says pointedly, knocking her leg against mine, making me freeze. “I feel like I can actually do this now.”
“You’re doing more than just ‘actually doing it,’” I reply, my tone light but sincere.
She looks down at the drakor, her fingers tracing the detailed edges. The movement draws my attention to her hands. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to hold them, to feel that strength and grace in mine. To feel them running through my hair and down to cup the nape of my neck as I’m—She’s your disciple.
She will be the future Aquilith.
Whatever you’re… thinking,can’t happen.
“Do you think I’ll be ready for the trials?” she asks, her voice pulling me out of my self-lecture.
I pause, considering her question carefully. “You’re on the right track,” I say finally. “But there’s still a lot to learn. The Keeper Trials are designed to push you to your limits, to test not just your skill but your endurance, your creativity, your ability to adapt under pressure. It’s not just about power—it’s about how you use that power.”
She nods, absorbing my words. “But… you think I have a chance?”
I gesture to the creature hovering above her hand. “I don’t have the smallest doubt, Eira.”
She smiles softly, and it makes my heart squeeze. Then she bites her lip for a moment, a question lingering before she asks, “You… have more than one Strength? I’ve seen you wield both water and fire. Is that common?”
I shrug, leaning over to pluck out a weed. “I wouldn’t say it’s common, but it’s not unheard of. Most people are actually capable of training to wield some basic magic in more than oneessence, but rarely does it become strong enough to be considered a Strength.”
“Like you,” she says.
I nod. “And once you go through the Keeper binding ceremony after you win the final Keeper trial, that’s when you’re bound to the Keeper gemstone, every Essence has one, and anointed into the Keeper circle, all of your Strengths will become…enhanced. It just so happens, I have more than one.”
She nods, understanding. “So you were both Keeper of Fire and Water as well as Celestaris?”
“Not exactly. I became Emberon, Keeper of Fire, ten years ago. Then two years ago, when the Celestaris at the time retired, I competed in and won the Master Keeper quest to become Celestaris.” Memories wash over me. “In the past, the Celestaris would keep their Keeper position as well as Celestaris. But it’s become clear to me over the last two years that there should still be a full set of six Keepers, as well as the Master Keeper,” I explain.
She nods, mulling over my words. “Your father said you’d found a new Emberon, but also that you were responsible for the Aquilith role being unfilled. What did he mean?”
I grimace but force myself to answer. I owe her that much. “Er, in the final battle of the Celestaris quest… we fought and… he didn’t make it.”
Her eyes reflect the horror that I feel. “You… killed a Keeper?”
I grimace. “That wasn’t the goal. But it was the result. It happens. The Celestaris quest is… it’s, um, indescribable. And sometimes, people don’t make it.” Guilt floods through me.
She falls into silence, and I wish I could read the thoughts running through her mind. When she turns back to me, I can see the empathy in her eyes. “I’ve seen what you can do. I can’timagine anyone beating you in a battle. Are you the strongest in the realm?”
“There’s always someone stronger, Eirabella. Don’t ever forget that.”
She tilts her head slightly, studying me. “Feeling chatty today?”
Her words catch me off guard, and I feel a warmth spread through my chest. She’s right. I do feel more comfortable with her, more at ease than I have with anyone in a long time. “I guess I am,” I say, my tone a bit softer. “You make it easy to be.”
“Hard work for me, though!” she exclaims, throwing her free hand in the air. “Getting you to talk is like squeezing water out of thin air.” She balls her hands into a fist around her water sculpture. A few seconds later, a small stream of water falls from her fist, and she grins, impressed with herself. “Apparently, it’s even harder than that. Maybe you should try making it easier for me.”
