The private training ground was nothing fancy just a walled off cavern tucked behind the forges, big enough for five people to swing blades without hitting stone. Heat from the mountain’s core seeped through the floor, making the air thick and dry. Sweat dried almost as fast as it beaded. I liked it. Felt honest. Rag was already there, shirtless as usual, pounding a reinforced dummy with fists wrapped in old cloth. Each hit landed with a dull thud that echoed like distant thunder. Mira sat cross legged on a crate in the corner, swinging her legs, watching him with that wide-eyed wonder she still hadn’t lost. She waved when she saw me. “Eli! Rag says he’s gonna break the dummy today.” Rag grunted, didn’t stop punching. “Third one this week. They make ‘em weak.” I dropped my pack, unstrapped Reaper. The sword settled into my hand like it had been waiting. Always does now. Like it knows me better than I know myself. Liora arrived last, hair still damp from washing forge soot off. Sh

Some days feel heavier than others. Today was one. Started normal enough. Morning drills in the lower yard running laps until lungs burned, then shield walls with Rag holding the front like a living boulder. Mira snuck down to watch again, hiding behind crates, thinking I didn’t see her. I let her think that. Kid needs something to smile about. But the whispers were louder today. Voss. Heard it four times before breakfast. Once from a group of third years eyeing me like I was a problem to solve. Once from an instructor correcting my form paused just a beat too long when he said my name. By midday, it itched under my skin. Liora noticed. She always does. We were in the private cavern again, running paired drills. Her blade scraped mine, storm crackle faint but sharp. “You’re off,” she said after I missed a parry I shouldn’t have. “Am not.” “Are too.” She stepped back, lowered her sword. “What’s eating you?” I wiped sweat from my eyes. Didn’t answer right away. Rag was acros

The storm hit the mountain that evening. Real one this time thunder rolling like war drums, lightning cracking the sky open. Rain lashed the training yards, turning dirt to mud. Most cadets stayed inside. I didn’t. I was on the upper ledge, rain soaking through my tunic, Reaper planted point down in the stone. Watching the clouds. Watching for shapes that didn’t belong. Liora found me there. Hair plastered to her face, uniform clinging, eyes sharp even through the downpour. “You’re going to catch your death,” she yelled over the wind. “Maybe.” She stepped closer. Close enough the rain didn’t feel so cold. “You’ve been up here an hour. Rag’s worried. Mira’s asking why you’re mad at the sky.” I didn’t answer. Couldn’t find words that fit. Lightning flashed. For a second the floating manor was visible far off, but closer than yesterday. Lights winking like eyes. Liora followed my gaze. Her face hardened. “They’re not even hiding anymore.” “No.” She grabbed my arm. Fingers tig

The inter clan tournament arrived like a storm that had been building for weeks, rolling in with airships from every corner of the empire, their banners snapping in the high wind while cadets and nobles alike crowded the expanded arenas carved into Greyhaven’s upper platforms, the air thick with mana and anticipation and the kind of tension that makes your skin prickle even when nothing’s happened yet. I stood at the edge of our team’s assigned prep tent, watching it all unfold, Reaper strapped across my back under a plain cloak because showing it too early felt like giving away a card I wasn’t ready to play, and beside me Liora adjusted her sword strap for the third time, her fingers betraying the calm on her face, while Rag stretched his massive arms overhead, grinning like a kid who’d been promised all the fights he could eat, and Mira clung to my leg, wide eyed at the colors and noise but refusing to go back to the dorms no matter how much I tried. The grounds were huge three fl

The noise didn’t stop for hours after the finals, cheers echoing through the platforms like the mountain itself was shouting, cadets slapping our backs as we walked the bridges back to the outer ring, some with real respect in their eyes, others with that wary look people give when they realize the quiet one just turned the world sideways, and I let it wash over me without really feeling it because the only thing sharp in my head was Harlan’s face when Cassia yielded pale, flames flickering like they’d forgotten how to burn steady. We made it to the private cavern eventually, door barred behind us, the team collapsing in a heap of exhausted limbs and half laughs, Rag sprawling on the floor with a jug of something strong he’d “borrowed,” Mira curled against his side already half asleep from the long day, Jax and Kora trading quiet jabs about who’d taken more hits, their voices softer than I’d ever heard them. Liora stayed standing a minute longer, watching the door like she expected