For the next month, Lita prepared intensely for her upcoming enrollment at Ardent Peak Academy. She knew the Academy was a place for the best of the best, and she didn't want to fall behind when she arrived. The day after Belros and her mother spoke, her routine became even more grueling. Every morning she rose at dawn — practicing her swordsmanship, honing her magic, working on controlling the immense power she had unleashed during the demonstration.
Flare, though stern as always, became more focused on refining Lita's technique rather than simply drilling her.
"You've come a long way,"
Flare said one morning, sparring with her in the courtyard, their blades catching the early light.
"But at Ardent Peak, you'll face opponents who won't hold back. Your spells must be sharp — and your control even sharper."
Lita answered with action more than words, throwing herself into every combination Flare put in front of her. She learned to build barriers mid-movement, to deflect magical attacks without breaking her stance, and to infuse her blade with elemental power in a single, fluid motion. The hardest part wasn't the magic itself. It was learning to stay calm when things went wrong — and things went wrong constantly. Her power surged at the worst moments, wild and unruly, and each time it did, Flare was there to pull her back to center before it became something dangerous.
On quieter evenings, Lita read everything she could find about Ardent Peak — its history, its reputation, the kinds of students it produced and the kinds it swallowed whole. She was anxious. She was also completely unwilling to let that stop her.
Her mother watched from a careful distance, as she always did, her expression giving nothing away. Every now and then their eyes would meet across a room, and in that silence Lita understood clearly: failure was not a conversation they would be having.
As the weeks passed, her strength grew. So did her confidence. With each spell and each strike, she could feel the gap narrowing between who she was and who she needed to be. Whether it would be enough — that question still lingered. But she was beginning to believe it might.
One evening, after a long day of training, Lita found she couldn't stop thinking about Ardent Peak. She'd heard fragments from Flare and Belros, pieces of a picture she couldn't quite assemble. There was only one person who would know the whole of it.
She walked down the dimly lit hallway, her footsteps quiet against the stone, and knocked lightly on her mother's door.
"Enter."
Her mother was seated by the window, a small dagger in hand, polishing its blade with the same quiet focus she gave to everything. The last light of the setting sun stretched long shadows across the room, making the space feel almost otherworldly.
"Mother," Lita began carefully, moving closer. "May I ask you something?"
Her mother didn't look up, but she nodded slightly. "Go on."
"I've been thinking about Ardent Peak." Lita settled into a chair across from her. "What was it like when you were there? What should I expect?"
Silence stretched between them. Her mother set the dagger aside and turned her gaze to the window, her expression unreadable in the fading light.
"Ardent Peak is unlike any place you've been before, Lita," she said at last, her voice soft but certain. "It's a place of power, discipline, and competition. The students there are not just learning — they are preparing for a world that will not be kind to the weak."
Lita absorbed that slowly. "Were you... like me when you went there? Did you struggle?"
Her mother finally turned to look at her directly. "I wasn't like you, no. I had different challenges." A pause. "But make no mistake — Ardent Peak will test you in every way. Your abilities, your mind, your will. You will be pushed to your limits, and those who can't keep up are left behind."
"Did you enjoy it?"
Something moved at the corner of her mother's lips — not quite a smile, but close enough to be rare. "Enjoy? No, Lita. Ardent Peak is not a place for enjoyment. But it shaped me into who I am." Her eyes held steady. "And if you can survive its trials, it will do the same for you."
Lita sat with that for a moment. The honesty of it was both sobering and clarifying. Her mother wasn't the type to soften a truth to make it easier to swallow. If she said the Academy was hard, it was harder than Lita had imagined.
"Thank you, Mother," she said quietly, rising to leave.
"Lita."
She stopped and turned. Her mother's gaze was sharp — the kind that cut cleanly through any pretense.
"Remember this. At Ardent Peak, you can trust no one. Not even your friends. Everyone there has their own agenda." A beat. "Keep your guard up. Always."
Lita nodded, her heart picking up its pace. She walked back to her room with those words trailing close behind her. The Academy wasn't just a school. It was a battlefield — and she was going to have to treat it like one.
But even so, something warm and determined had settled in her chest by the time she reached her door. She was ready to face it. Whatever it turned out to be.
Lita found Flare shortly after and spilled everything — the conversation, her mother's warnings, the weight of what was coming. She was animated, her words tumbling over each other with a mixture of excitement and nerves that she wasn't quite bothering to hide. Flare listened with her usual stillness, her expression giving little away.
After Lita had gone, Flare stood alone with her thoughts for a long moment. Then she went to find her lady.
Lita's mother was at her desk, already absorbed in documents, a cup of tea placed quietly at her elbow. The house had settled into its evening quiet around her. Flare waited until the moment felt right, then spoke.
"Why did you lie to Lita about your experience at Ardent Peak?"
The question was careful. Low. Not accusatory — but direct enough that it couldn't be stepped around.
Her lady didn't look up immediately. She took a slow sip of the tea before answering. "What makes you think I lied?"
Flare glanced toward the door, confirming they were alone. "I was there, my Lady. I know what happened during your time at the Academy." She kept her voice even. "You weren't just another student. You were feared. The others didn't challenge you — they obeyed you. And when they didn't..." She let the sentence end where it ended. The implication was enough.
Her lady finally set the documents aside and met her gaze — eyes cold and precise as ever. "Lita isn't ready for that truth," she said simply. "If she knew the full extent of my history there, she would either fear the Academy too much, or push herself to live up to something she's not ready for. Neither outcome serves her."
"And if she faces something similar?" Flare pressed, keeping her tone measured. "If she becomes a target — like you were?"
"She won't." There was no hesitation in it. "Because she'll be stronger than any of them. That is precisely why I'm sending her. If she can survive Ardent Peak, she can survive anything."
Flare held her silence for a moment, turning that over. Then: "And Sylana? You know she's not finished."
Something shifted behind her lady's eyes — not fear, but the particular darkness that came with acknowledging a known threat. "I know. But that is a problem for later. For now, Lita's training is what matters."
"As you wish, my Lady."
Flare bowed slightly and stepped out. The door closed behind her. She stood in the hallway a moment longer than necessary, the quiet pressing in from both sides, and tried to shake the feeling that something much larger than any of them was already in motion.