Lily
Maris came in just as I was sorting herbs in my room, her voice pitched low in that tone that told me gossip was about to spill. "My lady," she began, glancing over her shoulder before shutting the door, "Zeena's got herself a new maid. Her name's Hira."
I didn't even look up from the lavender I was stripping into the bowl. "Good for her. Maybe now she'll stop whining to the Council about being maidless."
Maris stepped closer. "You should know… the girl isn't from here. She's from Alpha Jose."
That made me pause. Alpha Jose, one of Elis' Alphas, had been sniffing around Zeena for weeks, offering her the sort of attention that wasn't exactly proper. I knew his politics were… questionable, but giving her a maid? That was unusual. I shrugged like it was none of my business. "Zeena and her new maid can braid each other's hair for all I care."
But later, when I crossed paths with Hira in the east corridor, something shifted. She was carrying a tray, her steps perfectly measured. Her eyes lifted to mine for just a second too long, too still, and it was like being struck by a shadow. For a heartbeat, the corridor seemed colder.
There was something in her gaze, something sharp and waiting. It wasn't the look of a servant. It was the look of someone who measured your weaknesses like weights on a scale.
I stopped in my tracks, and so did she. Neither of us said a word, but my pulse drummed in my ears. I had been learning to listen, to really listen beyond the surface. And in that silence, I caught it: a whisper too faint for anyone else to hear.
"…soon…"
I couldn't tell if it had come from her lips or from somewhere deeper, some echo that clung to her. But I knew, in that moment, the quiet war we'd been fearing had taken on a new face. And it was standing right in front of me, carrying a silver tray.
For weeks now, I've felt it; an unseen presence shadowing me. It lingered around me when I practised privately or when I was bent over my spellbook, tracing runes in the quiet of my chamber, and even when I lay in bed, eyes closed, pretending not to notice.
But the scent… it wasn't Miriam's. My grandmother's presence had always carried the faint warmth of crushed herbs and old parchment—a comfort. This was different. Sharp. Metallic. Almost… predatory.
I'd recognized it instantly the first time I ran into Hira, Zeena's new maid. That brief meeting had been enough for her scent to burn into my memory. It clung to her like a warning.
Who exactly was this girl? Was she a witch like me, hiding her power beneath those meek eyes? Or was she something far worse, something I didn't yet have a name for?
One way or another, I intended to find out.
***
One night, I didn't expect the magical book to speak to me again, at least, not like that.
Its pages fluttered on their own, as though invisible fingers were riffling through them, until they stopped on the last page of Part One. Ink bled across the parchment, curling into words that shimmered gold under the candlelight.
"To the one who has walked the path alone,
bending flame and shadow without falter,
you have completed the First Cycle.
By right of will and strength of blood,
you are henceforth known as SOLFRAI.
Remember this name, for it shall be spoken in halls you have not yet dreamed,
and feared in places you have never seen."
The page flipped to another.
"Congratulations, Lily Solfrai. You have passed the Initiate's Path. You are hereby ranked First Circle Healer of the Old Ways."
A warm hum passed through my chest, like the heartbeat of the earth itself pulsing in time with mine. I swallowed, trying not to grin like a child. First Circle graduate. And I have a title now; SOLFRAI, something solid to stand on.
But the moment I turned to the next page, the parchment changed. The text was no longer warm and flowing. Instead, angular symbols and cryptic codes stared back at me, lines and circles interwoven with strange runes that seemed to shift when I blinked.
I began to read; slowly, carefully and the meaning unfolded like a secret whispered in my mind.
The first section spoke of the Barricade of the Unseen: an invisible formation meant to shield not only myself, but anyone I chose—friends, allies, loved ones, from harm. It was no simple charm. The diagrams showed concentric circles bound by interlocking wards, each requiring precise positioning of energy points in the air. A single mistake could collapse the entire structure and drain my life-force in seconds.
The second section was worse or better, depending on whether you liked the idea of your power doubling at the cost of your sanity. "The Spells of the Second Circle" they called them—real spells, not the gentle cantrips I'd been playing with. Spells meant to heal an entire platoon in minutes… or stop a heart cold. The book made no moral distinction; it only stated power, and what it could do.
And the third… that one made me exhale sharply. Space. I would need space. The page practically hissed the word at me. The training would demand casting in open fields, unbroken terrain, places where my energy could spread without rebounding and shredding me from within.
As my fingers traced the final code, I couldn't shake the shiver in my bones. This was no child's practice anymore. This was the Second Circle. And once I began, there would be no turning back.