By the time we reached the eastern practice court, the Academy had fully woken around us.
Morning light poured through the open arches, stretching across the stone floor in wide golden bands and catching along the copper channels worked into the ground. Apprentices already crowded beneath the four elemental crests—a flame, a curling wave, a winged spiral, and a tree whose roots spread beneath the others.
The noise reached us before we had fully crossed the threshold. Water splashed against stone. Laughter broke out near the wind crest when someone lost control of a practice ribbon and sent it snapping around another apprentice's head. Somewhere farther across the court, earth cracked beneath a boot, followed quickly by a startled curse and several voices laughing at once.
The air smelled of damp soil, hot metal, and the faint sharpness of smoke.
I slowed without meaning to.
There were so many apprentices.
I knew that already, of course. I had passed them in corridors, sat beside them in lessons, stood among them beneath the Circle's dome while name after name was called.
I had noticed them.
I noticed when voices lowered as Rosalind passed, when two girls leaned close behind their hands and watched the faint shimmer of heat around her fingers. I noticed the ones who stared too long, the ones who looked away when she caught them, and the ones who still whispered about the Circle as though saying her name too loudly might make the fire rise around her again.
My shoulders always tightened when they did. Sometimes my fingers curled too, as though there were anything I could do about a whisper if I only held myself tightly enough.
But I had noticed them because they were looking at Rosalind.
I had not really noticed them.
Now, standing inside the practice court, they seemed clearer.
A water apprentice near the southern arch balanced five bright droplets above her knuckles, each one trembling whenever she moved but never falling. A broad-shouldered earth mage had shaped tiny stone birds along his forearm while two of his friends argued over whether they looked more like sparrows or very ugly chickens. Near the wind crest, a boy guided a narrow ribbon through three hanging rings, his tongue caught between his teeth as he tried not to let the cloth brush the sides.
A little farther away, two apprentices whispered to one another and glanced toward Rosalind.
My attention went to them at once.
It always did.
One of the girls noticed me looking and quickly turned away, but this time something else caught my eye—the tiny flame trembling between her fingers. It shrank when her attention slipped, then brightened again when she looked down and concentrated.
I watched it for a moment.
They were good.
Not all of them. Some were still fumbling, sending water onto their own shoes or losing ribbons to the wind, but even the mistakes seemed different from mine. Everyone's magic answered in its own way.
How much of this had I missed?
My eyes found Rosalind before I had even finished the thought.
Of course.
A little heat crept into my cheeks.
Since we arrived, I had spent so much time noticing who looked at her, who whispered about her, who stood too close or said her name, that everyone else had become part of whatever was happening around Rosalind.
Maybe I should have looked more.
I turned my attention back toward the court, though Rosalind remained beside me, close enough that I could feel the faint warmth of her through the sleeve of my uniform.
One of her hands rested loosely at her side.
Close to mine.
Not touching.
My fingers shifted before I could stop them.
I could reach.
I had done it a hundred times. I knew the shape of her hand, the warmth of her palm, the way her fingers usually closed around mine without either of us needing to say anything.
But after the morning, I wanted her to do it first.
The want tightened softly beneath my ribs.
My fingers hovered for another breath before I folded them into my palm.
"Flora?"
I turned.
Liana stood beneath one of the arches, her braid resting over one shoulder while loose strands lifted around her face in the breeze. Her yellow eyes moved over me for a moment, then toward Rosalind.
"You look as though you're about to be sentenced."
"I do not."
Liana's mouth twitched. "You do a little."
"I'm standing perfectly normally."
"That may be the problem."
Before I could think of anything to say to that, Rosalind turned toward us.
Her gaze settled on Liana first, quiet and attentive, before returning to me. A smile was already beginning at the corners of her mouth.
"You've made a friend."
Something warm pressed beneath my ribs.
"This is Liana," I said. "The girl from earth lessons I told you about. Liana Ambrose."
Recognition brightened Rosalind's face almost at once.
"Liana Ambrose."
Liana blinked. "You remembered?"
"Flora mentioned you."
My fingers relaxed against my palm.
She remembered.
It was only a name, but warmth spread through me anyway, easing something in my shoulders that I had not realised was still tight.
I had told her something.
She had kept it.
Rosalind looked back at Liana, her gaze passing briefly over the earth crest at her collar and the faint streak of soil near one cuff. Her smile stayed easy.
"Then I owe you thanks."
Liana looked surprised. "For what?"
"For keeping her from disappearing into her own head while I'm not there."
Heat rushed straight into my face.
"Rosalind."
Her smile only grew. "What?"
Liana laughed. "She does do that."
"Liana…"
"I'm only agreeing."
"You barely know me."
"I know enough."
Rosalind laughed softly beside me.
I dropped my eyes, rubbing my thumb over the side of one finger just to give my hands something to do, but the smile had already begun pulling at my mouth.
It felt strange how quickly I relaxed.
Rosalind liked her.
Or at least, she seemed to.
I had not realised until then how badly I had wanted that.
"And the earth lessons?" Rosalind asked, her smile still lingering. "How are they?"
Liana looked at me, her eyes brightening in a way that immediately made warmth creep back into my cheeks.
"They've been good," I said.
"Very good," Liana added.
I looked at her.
She smiled. "Flora's being modest."
"I'm not."
"She made flowers around her hands."
Rosalind turned toward me.
Her smile shifted into surprise as her gaze dropped to my fingers.
"You did?"
Something small dipped inside me.
My thumb stopped moving.
For a moment, I only looked at her.
I had told her about the flowers.
Or I thought I had.
Maybe I had rushed through it too quickly. Rosalind had been exhausted that day, her shoulders heavy from fire training and her eyes already shadowed with tiredness. I had not wanted to keep her awake, so I had made the story shorter.
Maybe too short.
Maybe I had talked about the vines and forgotten to explain the flowers properly.
My fingers folded softly into my palm.
That sounded possible.
It was probably that.
"They were tiny," I said.
Liana stared at me. "Tiny?"
Heat crept higher into my face. "They weren't very big."
"They covered both your hands."
Rosalind's brows lifted, her smile returning. "Did they?"
"They were beautiful," Liana said. "And they had little stars in them."
"They only looked like stars."
"They were stars."
Rosalind looked back at me, something brighter entering her eyes. "Stars?"
"No."
"Yes," Liana said at the same time.
Rosalind laughed.
My fingers loosened before I noticed.
So did the little heaviness beneath my ribs.
"I'd like to see them."
I looked at her.
Warmth rushed back so quickly it almost embarrassed me.
"I can show you."
The answer came faster than I meant it to.
Rosalind's eyes stayed on mine for a moment, and her smile softened.
"I'd like that."
Something inside me settled.
Maybe I really had not explained it well the first time.
That was all right.
I could show her now.
Liana smiled. "You have to make the stars again."
"There were no stars."
Rosalind's smile widened. "I think I'll decide that for myself."
Liana laughed, and after a moment, so did I.
For a little while, it was easy.
Liana stood on one side of me and Rosalind on the other, their laughter mixing with the noise of the court. Around us, water still splashed against stone, ribbons snapped in the wind, and someone somewhere complained loudly about a cracked practice tile.
But the tightness I had carried in with me had begun to slip away.
Rosalind was still beside me.
Liana was here too.
Nothing had been taken.
My hands fell loose at my sides.
For once, I did not need to hold on so tightly.
Light raced through the court in branching lines, splitting toward four separate courses. Stone gates rose from the floor along one path with a low grinding sound. Shallow water spilled into another, filling narrow trenches between dark barriers of rock. Bronze lanterns kindled one after another at the end of a third, while pale ribbons stirred above a bed of black sand.
A murmur moved through the apprentices.
I stared.
Only moments ago, the court had been an open stretch of stone crowded with people. Now copper light ran beneath our feet and magic seemed to have filled every corner of it. Water glimmered beneath the morning sun. Fire flickered behind bronze glass. The stone gates stood tall enough that I had to tip my head slightly to see their tops, thin markings carved across their surfaces in patterns I could not yet understand.
Even the black sand moved.
Not much. Just enough that the surface shifted whenever the ribbons above it stirred, tiny grains chasing one another before settling again.
Something bright fluttered through me.
I wanted to know what all of it did.
My eyes moved from the lanterns to the stone gates and then toward the water course, trying to guess what we would be asked to do with them. The Academy kept doing this to me. Every time I thought I had begun to understand how much there was to learn, something new appeared and made the world feel larger again.
Without thinking, I looked at Rosalind.
She was staring too.
Her eyes followed the copper light as it travelled between the courses before lifting toward the bronze lanterns. There was a brightness in her face I recognised immediately. Her chin had lifted a little, and she leaned forward without seeming to notice, as though she might miss something important if she looked away for even a moment.
A smile touched my mouth.
Something about today felt easier.
Rosalind had seemed softer with me since morning. She had teased me about the sparrow, remembered Liana's name, laughed beside me as though the strange distance between us had not been there at all. Even now she stood close enough that the edge of her sleeve almost touched mine.
Maybe that was all it had been.
Maybe the Academy had simply been too much at first. New rooms, new lessons, new people always watching her. Rosalind had been tired too. I knew that. Maybe she had only needed time to settle into everything, the same way I did.
The thought warmed me.
Maybe I had made the distance bigger inside my own head because I had been frightened of it.
Rosalind was still here.
She was talking to me. Laughing with me. Looking at me.
Maybe nothing between us had really changed.
My shoulders loosened as I looked at her, and for the first time in days I let myself believe that perhaps we were only finding our way back into something familiar.
"Each pair will rotate through four practical trials," Elder Voss continued. "You will be assessed on how well you apply elemental theory, how quickly you recognise your partner's strengths, and whether you can protect their weaknesses without smothering what they are trying to do. A pair advances together, or not at all."
Something fluttered low in my stomach.
Pairs.
My fingers found the loose thread at my cuff again and rolled it between my thumb and forefinger.
"At the flame course, one mage will guide the fire through the turning path and place it within the final lantern. The other must alter the course without touching the flame. If it dies, you begin again. If it crosses the containment marks, both of you fail."
A few heads turned toward the row of bronze lanterns.
"At the remaining stations, the same principle applies. Observe before acting. Your element is not the only answer merely because it is yours."
Excitement stirred through the court. Someone near the water course whispered something that made their friend laugh, while another apprentice stretched onto their toes for a better look at the stone gates.
I barely noticed.
Rosalind had leaned forward slightly again, her attention fixed on the courses. There was that look in her face now, the one she got whenever something difficult was placed in front of her and she had already decided she would learn how to do it.
My smile returned.
Earth and fire.
Surely that could work.
Maybe I would learn how my earth could help her flame without getting in its way. Maybe we would stand over the same station notes and argue quietly over which path looked easiest. Maybe she would look at me when something worked and give me that pleased little smile she tried to hide when she was proud.
The thought came so easily that for a moment I forgot there was any other possibility.
Then Elder Voss lifted the stack of parchment in her hands.
"When I call your names, come forward with your partner and collect your station notes."
The first pair crossed the court.
Then another.
Some apprentices found each other with relieved smiles. Others approached more slowly, studying the stranger whose name had been placed beside theirs.
With every name that was not ours, the flutter beneath my ribs grew.
I looked at Rosalind.
She watched with the same calm attention she gave everything else, but I had already begun imagining us walking forward together. Her fire beside my earth. The two of us bent over the same set of notes, our shoulders almost touching while we tried to understand whatever Elder Voss had put in front of us.
Maybe she would smile when our names were called.
Something warm fluttered beneath my ribs.
Then another thought followed too quickly behind it.
What if they weren't?
My fingers caught on the loose thread.
What if Rosalind's name came with someone else's?
The warmth inside me tightened.
I knew that was the point of the lesson. Elder Voss had chosen the pairs. It would not mean anything. Rosalind would go to her station, I would go to mine, and when the lesson ended we would find each other again.
Still, my thumb worried the thread faster.
We had already been separated into different lessons. Rosalind had fire and I had earth. There were people around her now that I did not know, people who could stand beside her in places I could not follow.
What if this became another one of those places?
The thought made the court feel suddenly larger than it had moments before.
What if her name was called and she walked away?
What if mine did not come for a while?
What if everyone else found someone and I was left standing here alone?
My eyes went back to Rosalind.
She was still beside me.
Close enough that our sleeves nearly touched.
The sight helped, but only a little.
My fingers stopped worrying the thread and slowly curled into my palm instead.
Please let us be paired.
I pressed my fingertips into my skin.
Please.
Elder Voss looked down at the next names.
Chapter Seven — Flora and Ezio
"Flora Velan and Ezio Esenhill."
My thumb stopped against my palm.
Elder Voss's voice cut straight through the thoughts I had been tangled in, startling me out of them so quickly that my head lifted and a loose strand of hair brushed across my cheek. For a second, all I felt was relief.
My name.
She had called my name.
I drew a deeper breath without meaning to, the tightness around my ribs easing just enough for the court to return around me. Water ran through the shallow channels nearby. Shoes scraped across stone as apprentices moved toward their partners, and somewhere beyond the copper lines, one of the pale practice ribbons snapped sharply in the wind.
Then I remembered there had been another name beside mine.
Ezio Esenhill.
I looked across the court, but there were too many unfamiliar faces moving at once. Someone passed between me and the water crest. Another pair hurried toward the lanterns, station notes held between them, and for one confused moment I could not tell who I was supposed to be looking for.
A shadow fell across the copper line at my feet.
"Flora Velan?"
I startled badly enough that the parchment in my hands shifted. One corner folded beneath my thumb before another hand caught the bottom edge.
"Careful."
I looked up.
He was taller than I expected, though I was not sure why I had expected anything at all. He wore the same plain Academy uniform as everyone else, except one side of his collar sat slightly open, as though he had fastened it once, looked at the remaining clasp, and decided he had done enough.
He stood loosely inside it too, his weight resting more on one foot than the other, one shoulder sitting slightly lower. His arms hung easily at his sides, and there was something about the way he stood that made it look as though standing perfectly straight had simply never occurred to him.
Dark curls fell across his brow. One lifted away from his forehead in a current I could not feel, brushed against his temple, then settled again.
A narrow silver charm hung from one ear.
It turned slowly.
There was hardly any wind where we stood. The loose strands beside my own face had gone still, and yet the charm continued its lazy circle as though it had found a breeze belonging only to him.
My eyes followed it.
Ezio noticed.
His head tipped slightly to one side, not enough to make me feel caught staring, only enough that I knew he had seen. One corner of his mouth lifted.
Then the charm stopped.
Completely.
With the smallest movement of two fingers beside his thigh, it began turning the other way.
I blinked and looked at him.
The crooked little smile grew.
"Ezio Esenhill."
"I know."
One eyebrow lifted, and heat crept into my cheeks almost immediately.
"Elder Voss called your name."
"Ah."
He rested one hand against his chest with such unnecessary seriousness that for half a second I almost thought he meant it. The slight curve still tugging at the corner of his mouth ruined the performance.
"And here I was hoping I had made an impression."
The warmth climbed higher into my face.
I dropped my eyes to the station notes, suddenly far too aware that I did not know what I was supposed to say to that.
For one nervous moment, my gaze slipped across the court.
Rosalind was still beside Harry, their parchment open between them. Her head was bent toward the page, dark hair falling against one shoulder while Harry pointed to something near the bottom.
She had not looked over.
I did not know why that made me relieved and a little disappointed at the same time.
My thumb rubbed against the edge of the notes as Ezio's name tugged at something in my memory.
Esenhill.
The Circle.
I remembered the great dome overhead and sunlight pouring across the stone. Then wind rising in one clean silver column, robes snapping around him sharply enough to sound like wings. The applause had followed almost immediately, bright and delighted.
Nothing like the silence that had come later.
My eyes returned to him.
"I remember your Awakening."
Something changed in his face. His brows lifted first, then the teasing curve at his mouth softened into something more genuine.
"Do you?"
I nodded. "Your wind went all the way to the top of the dome."
The silver charm turned beside his cheek.
"That is generally what wind tries to do."
A small smile pulled at my mouth before I could stop it.
"That isn't what I meant."
"I know."
His answer came easily, and somehow that only made the smile stay.
The charm completed another slow circle, catching the morning light before slipping back into shadow. I watched it a moment too long and quickly looked away when I realised.
Ezio did not tease me for that. He only shifted his weight slightly, giving the parchment between us more room rather than stepping closer.
"I remember yours too."
My fingers stopped against the page.
"You do?"
The question came quieter than I meant it to.
His gaze dropped toward my hands.
"Earth."
Then he looked back at me.
"And flowers."
Something warm opened beneath my ribs.
For a moment, I only stared at him.
"The flowers?"
"You sound surprised."
"I am."
"Why?"
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came.
Ezio did not rush to fill the silence. He simply waited, head tilted slightly, one hand resting loosely beside him while the silver charm continued its slow turn against his cheek.
Around us, someone shouted when a practice stream spilled over its channel, followed by laughter. Wind tugged at the banners beneath the arches, carrying the smell of damp soil, smoke, and warm metal through the court.
But all I could think about was what he had said.
He remembered my flowers.
People remembered Rosalind. Of course they did. Her fire had filled the Circle until everyone beneath the dome had been staring at her, and even now her name followed us through corridors in whispers. People watched her hands. They lowered their voices when she passed.
I had grown used to standing beside her while everyone looked at her first.
Sometimes I liked it that way. It meant no one looked too closely at me.
Still—
Ezio had remembered.
My thumb moved slowly along the edge of the parchment.
"They weren't very big."
Ezio's mouth pulled slightly to one side. His eyes dropped toward my hands as though he were reconsidering the size of something he could still see there.
"Mm."
I waited.
His gaze returned to mine.
Then he shook his head.
"No. Still flowers."
My smile returned.
His did too, slower this time.
"And glowing ones."
Heat climbed into my cheeks again. "Only a little."
"A little?"
I looked up at the disbelief in his voice.
"They were still small."
"So you keep saying."
I lowered my eyes, but there was no hiding the smile now.
The thought sat strangely warm inside me.
I remembered that day mostly through Rosalind. Her delayed name. Her fire. The heat against my face and the way everyone had stepped back. The way I had run toward her when it was over.
My own Awakening had become something that happened before hers.
But Ezio had looked at that same day and remembered something of mine.
Flowers.
My grip on the notes loosened.
Before I could stop myself, my eyes slipped across the court again.
Rosalind was still beside Harry. She had turned slightly toward their course now, one hand resting against the parchment while Harry spoke quietly beside her. Morning light caught along the side of her hair.
She was not looking at me.
A tiny feeling dipped beneath the warmth in my chest.
I did not know what I had expected.
Maybe I had only wanted her to see that someone remembered my flowers too.
"Flora."
I looked back so quickly that the loose strand beside my cheek moved with me.
Ezio had shifted his weight onto his other foot, one shoulder still sitting lower than the other. There was no annoyance in his face. Only that same crooked amusement, softened around the eyes.
The silver charm turned lazily beside his cheek.
"You do know we're partners, right?"
Heat crept into my cheeks.
"I know."
"Good."
His gaze dropped briefly to the notes in my hands and then returned to me.
"I was beginning to think I should introduce myself again."
My face grew warmer. "I was listening."
"Mm."
"I was."
"I believe you."
He sounded as though he did not.
I looked down, pressing my thumb against the edge of the parchment while the smile I was trying to hide betrayed me anyway.
The silver charm beside his ear stopped. With a tiny turn of his fingers, it began moving the other way, and my eyes followed it before I could help myself.
Ezio noticed.
Of course he did.
One side of his mouth lifted higher, and he spread a hand loosely between us, palm upward, as though presenting himself on a stage.
"Then look at me occasionally. I would hate to perform all morning without an audience."
My cheeks burned hotter.
"I was looking at you."
"Eventually."
His hand fell back to his side, easy and unhurried.
My mouth pressed together, but the smile was still there.
A cool thread of air slipped between us and lifted the corner of the parchment. I caught it with my thumb before it could fold over, and when I looked at Ezio again, he was still watching me with that same quiet amusement.
This time, I stayed looking at him.
The ache in my palm had faded enough that I almost forgot it was there.
A sharp clap rang through the court.
I startled, and Ezio's gaze flicked briefly toward me before turning toward the centre. Around us, conversations broke apart almost at once. Shoes scraped against stone as apprentices began moving, the rush of water beneath the arches mixing with the crackle of the practice flames. The copper channels beneath our feet flared brighter, gold light racing along the lines toward each of the waiting courses.
"To your stations," Elder Voss ordered.
Ezio looked down at the notes still held between my hands, then back at me. The crooked smile returned.
"I suppose that means us."
I glanced toward the course marked on the parchment.
The nervous flutter in my stomach returned, but it felt different now. Smaller somehow. My palm still carried the faint crescent marks from my nails, pink against the skin, but when my fingers tightened around the notes this time, they did not curl far enough to hurt.
Ezio stepped across the copper line.
A small current seemed to move with him. His curls lifted from his forehead, and the silver charm beside his ear spun once, flashing in the morning light before settling into another slow turn.
He took several steps before slowing.
Not enough to make a show of waiting for me.
Just enough.
I stepped after him.
Before we had gone far, I looked back once.
Rosalind had already reached her station.
Harry stood beside her near the bronze lanterns, one gloved hand raised as he tested a thin current of air above the course. Rosalind watched the movement carefully, her shoulders straight and her face calm, one hand resting beside the little practice flame waiting in its dish.
She looked as though she knew exactly where she was supposed to be.
The old tightness tried to return.
Only a little.
It's one lesson.
Rosalind was still there.
I could still see her.
My fingers loosened around the parchment.
Then a cool current brushed the back of my hand.
I turned.
Ezio had slowed enough that I was almost beside him now. He did not ask what I had been looking at. He only shifted the notes in his hand and continued toward our station, matching his steps to mine when I caught up.
The silver charm beside his ear turned quietly in the space between us.
I followed him the rest of the way without looking back.