Silence fell onto House Kel, an eeriness that wasn't befitting the illusion spell cast on it. Draven couldn't shake the feeling that something, or someone, was waiting for him. He steeled himself as he opened the ornate doors. His heart pounded against his chest in anticipation. Pain struck his nerve as what he expected stood in front of him with a smile so sinister. Civet stood several paces away from Draven, speaking with the Father. Though the Father didn't show it, Draven knew he was uncomfortable being around Civet.

"Ah," he gasped. "There he is!" His tone expressed great haste.

"There he is indeed." Civet's words like slimy eels wiggling through Draven's ears. He forgot momentarily how petrifying his words could be. "I believe you have something of mine that you want to give back," his hand reaching out while the other is tucked away behind his back. Draven opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Civet spoke. "But I don't think you're that stupid, so I assume you're here to excommunicate yourself from your House and join the Order."

Draven looked at the Father, who bore no resentment or even defiance at the thought.

"Don't worry," continued Civet. "I've already spoken with him. You're with me now." His chuckle, like nails on a chalkboard, caused the goosebumps on Draven's body to rise. "Come now, we have much work to do!"

"Hold on!" A familiar voice spoke from the banisters. "Where do you think you're going?" Draven watched as Namon rushed down the stairs.

"You're Wench, I assume?"

Namon gritted her teeth as she clenched her fist. She used her Flash Step to gain momentum as she drove her fist forward towards Civet's face. To her surprise, Civet's hand met her fist. The velocity and force dispersing around him. What would have been a fatal blow looked more like a normal punch.

Civet's other hand came around his back. With a blink of an eye, it pierced Namon's abdomen. Blood spewed from her mouth as her eyes widened as far as they could. But her teeth remain gritted.
"It's rude to attack guests. Especially me." Civet's voice, condescending and filled with arrogance.

"I don't even know who you are," Namon said through gritted teeth.

"Hm," Civet reached further into her torso, ripping through organs. Namon finally shrieked in pain.

"That's enough!" Shouted Draven, rushing to pull Namon away from Civet. But once he got within reach, Civet dropped her body like a child throwing away their doll.

"I'll let you say your goodbyes," said Civet, licking the blood that soaked his hand. "Because you won't be seeing them again." His sharp teeth were revealed by his smile, and a laugh followed as he walked out of the manor.

"Namon!" Shouted Draven, her face losing the color of life.

"Draven, I'll be fine." Though her coughing convinced him otherwise as more blood came out of her mouth. "You know that I heal fast. This is nothing."

"You must leave, boy." Said the Father. "I know where your loyalty lies, but your presence here puts us all at risk."

"How could you be so stupid?" Namon coughed up, cutting in shortly after the Father spoke. "Did you really think this through? All this for that girl?"

"I'm sorry!" Draven held her hand. "I didn't think—"

"That's your problem. You need to think!"

"That's enough," said the father, as he raised his hand at Namon. "Allow yourself to heal." His eyes fell on Draven, his stern look returning. "You must go. It's best not to keep someone like him waiting."

Draven wanted to speak, but both the Father and Namon didn't allow it. The Father held Namon in Draven's stead, and they both watched as he left the manor. Civet waited, almost impatiently, at the bottom of the steps. His face brightened as Draven stood at the top.

A plethora of emotions collided within Draven, pushing and pulling at his heart and his mind. A lump formed in his throat as he began his descent. Something about leaving House Kel made him feel as if he was throwing everything away. But he knew he couldn't go against Civet. As the Father mentioned, he would be putting everyone in the House at risk if he made one bad move.

All the options weighed heavy on his shoulder as he approached Civet.

"Well, let's get to where we need to be." He held out his hand.

With great reluctance, Draven grabbed hold of Civet's hand. He felt his Source being pulled out of him, and without any notice, Civet created a rift, and they went through.

· · ─ · ◯☽✵☾◯ · ─ · ·

Bells rang throughout the kingdom, signifying that noon was two hours away. Rays of the sun beat through the window to Aeris' office, splashing warmth onto Lyra's face. Her eyes fluttered awake. The whipping of the Everfire filled the cadence of the room as her consciousness came to her. She made her way to Aeris' office, even though Aeris offered her a room within the manor. But she knew that no matter where she slept, it would never feel like home—her occupancy would be a waste of a comfortable room.

Her head lifted from the couch cushion, her hair made a mess throughout the night. A yawn followed her awakening, along with a stretch of her limbs. The door creaked open, and Aeris entered with her nightgown still on. One of her arms wrapped around a basket that held lavish bathing ointments and soaps.

"Come!" She said, making way for Lyra to walk past her. "I have the servants drawing up a warm bath for us."

"We're not kids anymore, Aeris."

"Oh, when did we grow up?" Aeris' question rhetorical, the corners of her mouth curling into a mischievous grin.

Lyra smirked at her as she got up. Her messy hair became undone, only to reveal a longer mess. She inspected her skin, finding dirt and grease stains along her arm. Her fingernails were dark from all the carbon and machine work. Lyra's shoulder slumped at her state of being, looking at Aeris to save her.

Aeris couldn't help but laugh at her, taking pity upon her like a mother to her child. Lyra followed Aeris to the bathroom. They stopped at a double door, and Lyra was curious if Aeris was lost at her own house.

"Well, here we are!" Said Aeris, her voice riddled with excitement.

"This can't be—"

Her words crashed in her throat as Aeris opened the door, revealing a spacious bathroom—the area just as large as her living room. One wall let all the natural light in with its tall windows. The stones seemed yellowish with a hint of pink at the right angle. Pillars of stone erected into the ceiling on the corners of the large pool of steaming water. Above the water was a large domed window, fogged from all the rising steam.

"Now why do you need this much space?" said Lyra. "It's not fair!"

Aeris laughed as the warm steam enveloped them. The cold the winter brought felt like it never existed here, a blissfully warming paradise. She set the basket down by a smooth slab of stone that lay by a smooth stream of running water.

"Well?" Aeris said, undressing, revealing a petite figure. "Are you just going to stare at architecture, or are you going to get clean?"

Lyra hesitated, but eventually she removed her clothes. She sat by Aeris on the stone slab and observed her. She started with rinsing her skin by cupping her hands and splashing the water over her skin. The warm water splashed onto Lyra and fled into the drains. Lyra dipped her hands into the water, its warmth relaxing enough to put her to sleep. She splashed the water onto her skin. The heat of the water felt as if it nibbled at her dirty skin—first it stung, but after repetition, it became almost therapeutic.

Her skin started to become clear, the dark stains now transparent, but filth still remained. Aeris got up to search through the basket and brought out a bar of soap.

"You'll need this," she said, holding out the bar. "It'll help loosen up the grime."

"I'm familiar with what it does," said Lyra, snatching the soap from her.

Her hand guided the block; bubbles formed as it glided across her skin. The aroma of the soap filled her nostrils, making her want to use more of it. But Aeris held out her hand, signaling it was her turn. Lyra passed it to her, not knowing what to do afterwards. A slippery pressure pressed against her back, almost startling her. Only to find Aeris using the soap to get her back.

"Would you do me next?"

"Of course!"

"You know," Aeris' scrubbing slowed. "You oughta take more care of your body. You're blossoming into a fine young lady. You can start by eating properly—get some more meat on those bones."

"What are you, my mother?"

The two giggled, then silence followed, allowing the running water to fill the cadence. Aeris presented the bar of soap to Lyra, her back turned towards her.

"I'm serious, though. Soon enough you'll be courted by some handsome man."

"Or be forever alone as a mad scientist." Lyra joked, scrubbing Aeris' back erratically for effect.

"Come on! Level with me for a moment." A sigh escaped Aeris as she turned around. "We rarely have moments like these anymore—where it's just the two of us. No science, no politics, no bloodshed. Just us."

"You're right, you're right!"

Aeris' hands reached for Lyra's, grasping them gently as she said, "I have a feeling that these moments won't last. Our friendship will be tested and may have to go our separate ways."

"Nothing is going to separate us," said Lyra, her face stern and focused. "I'm joining the Knight's Academy so I can learn how to protect you. I'll fight, tooth and nail, before letting anything happen to you."

"You're already doing that—more than you know. And I cherish every moment. But our journey has only started. There will be opposition, and I'll count on you. If only you would allow yourself to count on me."

"I'll always count on you."

· · ─ · ◯☽✵☾◯ · ─ · ·

Under the high-noon sun, a crowd gathered at a colossal door—the entrance to a brobdingnagian building. Large and vertically long windows ribbed the side of the building. A towering wall blocked the view of what lay beyond.

Kaelen unfolded the paper Aeris had handed to him. He made sure he was at the right location, but the gathering crowd made him feel certain. All walks of life waited outside—young, old, man, and woman. He drew in breath and let it settle. With an audible sigh, he steeled himself.

"Are you nervous?" Kaelen's head whipped to look beside him, finding Lyra staring in awe at the building. "I'm more excited than nervous, honestly."

"Are you sure this is a good idea for me? All these people will get suspicious if I were to fight them."

"Overthinking is the bane of action," Lyra smiled at him. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

The doors let out a low resounding noise as they opened, silencing the crowd. They were able to peer into the chapel-like grand hall, with pillars that held the ceiling—looming well over their heads.

Knights mounted on horses followed the opening doors. Their ceremonial armor glinting at every angle and capes bearing the knight's crest. The color patterns were similar with silver and blue. Even the horses bore armor resembling their master's pattern and style.

Their demeanor and posture demanded respect. Though most wore their helmet, the knight leading point in the formation—an older man with long white hair put in a slicked bun and a face of weathered expressions. The corners of his eye were wrinkled from squinting all the time, leaving an impression on his skin after years of repetition.

All of their horses stopped near the center of the crowd, circling around before they halted.

"I'll cut to the chase," the old man spoke, his voice rasp but seasoned with hardened wisdom. His eyes scanned the heads of the crowd. "Almost all of you aren't going to make this academy. Most of you will be eliminated before you even walk through those doors. Like you," he said, pointing his finger at a boy, no older than thirteen. "I don't want to see you in my building."

The knights began to go through the crowd like a comb going through hair. Slowly, the crowd began to diminish. What seemed like an entire city of people is now just a town's worth.

Lyra and Kaelen stood amongst the last of them; Kaelen's hands were unpleasantly cold and damp from the tension. He glanced at Lyra, who stood ironclad, her eyes open with excitement. Kaelen looked at who remained and, to him, their elimination had no rhyme or reason. Could it have been luck of the draw? Or were there telltale signs of a knight in these people? Either way, the process was unsettling for Kaelen.

All of the knights moved to the front of the tall stone edifice. Their horses turned with grace to face the remaining candidates.

"Now only half of you will make the rest of the way," said the man. He pulled the reins of his horse and turned to enter through the doors. "Now follow me to the field. This will be your final test."

Everyone mumbled to each other, their grumbles filled with concern and a little annoyance. Kaelen noticed Lyra step forward with not a word to say, her stride filled with confidence and determination. Kaelen followed beside her, eventually entering the grand hall. The inside took him by surprise. Grass grew where the sun shined through the windows, the glass strategically placed on the east and west sides of the building. These grassy areas were like a small field with racks of wooden weapons lining the outside. Some spots were stomped in with footsteps, causing mud to form. Just further ahead, more doors awaited to be opened. The air suddenly changed—there was a gravity that weighed down on him.

Everyone followed the knight through an arch to an open field where other knights were training. Shouts and grunts filled the air, accompanied by the clanging of metals and injuries. Some stopped to smirk and gander, others not caring at all. In the distance, Kealen could see mounted horses running at each other, their steeds holding lance-like weapons, pointing them at each other. Other horses struggled to bond with their masters, bucking them off into the dirt.

The crowd came to a stop where the field wasn't heavily occupied. All of the knights formed a ring around them, preventing them from turning back from what's to come.

"I'll keep this simple!" Shouted the man. "All of you will fight until we say stop!"

Kaelen looked at Lyra. Her expression slightly changed; however, he saw her gain her resolve and steeled herself. Without any word to start, someone threw the first punch, landing his fist on the surface of another's cheek. Kaelen readied himself as someone approached him screaming as he raised his fist back. With no effort, Kaelen jabbed at the person's face, breaking their nose. Tears glossed their eyes, but Kaelen paid no care as he swept their legs from under them.

Kaelen turned his head to find Lyra. Her red hair wasn't easy to miss, helping him to easily locate her. She was surrounded by people who threatened to team up against her, her hair possibly making her the target. Kaelen wasted no time in shoving the first person that squared against her, breaking their engagement. The man was bigger than him, bald and bearded. Kaelen's eyes narrowed at the thought that a man like him would team up against a girl. Kaelen's anger swelled inside him, gritting his teeth and balling his fists. The bald man went to grab Kaelen, but he stepped in and put his fist in the bald man's ribs, feeling them shatter. The grown man fell to the floor, holding his sides while writhing in pain.

Though Kaelen was quick, the others wasted no time to attack Lyra. Before he could help her, another person stepped in front of him. A short-haired female this time. Her features weren't frail, rather masculine. Kaeling readied himself. After a few moments of staring at each other, he stepped forward, performing a front kick, but she swatted it away easily—her guard raised instantly as if this wasn't her first fight.

Kaelen tried a jab, and her head bobbed forward, going in for a jab of her own. Kaelen ducked out of the way but didn't see her knee rising towards his face, making impact. His head was dazed; an unusual amount of floaters appeared in his vision. Not letting him regain his bearings, she threw a left hook aiming for his side. His elbow lowered in response, but the blow was light; her real target with her attack was his face. Her fist came close as he bent his back to avoid her fist, but the sudden motion unbalanced him. Her back was turned, making Kaelen believe she was vulnerable. But again, he didn't see the back of her fist swing wide, performing a backfist blow, connecting her knuckles to the ridge of his cheekbone.

Kaelen felt a cool liquid drip from his chin; his fingertips confirmed the serration. His blood began to boil, enough to be in control. He stepped forward with his fists raised, and the woman went for another jab. Kaelen weaved around her fist and countered it with a low hook—fast but powerful. He made contact with her side, causing her to crunch sideways and stumble. Kaelen took the opportunity to sweep her leg, but she raised her foot in time. He took another jab, but the first one was a feint, allowing her to drop her guard around her stomach, and he dealt a spinning back kick, landing deep in her gut and launching her a few feet across the dirt.

He stayed ready, but the woman didn't stand back up. His eyes quickly scanned the battlefield. Many of the entrants have already fallen. Those who stood had a fighting aura fuming around them—whether they fought dirty or clean, the result led to their victory.

Kaelen's eyes finally found Lyra, who was engaged in a mounted attack—her being under the man with her arms raised to block his punches. Another man started to rear his foot back to kick her head, but before his foot could move forward, Kaelen kicked in the knee of his supporting leg. The man folded and screamed, gaining the attention of the other who was on top of Lyra. Kaelen watched as Lyra took the opening to shove dirt in his eyes and offset his balance. Their positions switched—though it was sloppy—and Lyra began to punch his face where he didn't guard it.

Kaelen had to pull her away as she pounded away at a limp body. Her teeth gritted and her feet kicked as he pulled her, almost warranting a punch from her until she recognized who it was. He made sure she was alright, his eyes scanning hers. Blood dripped from her nose, only for her to wipe it up with her sleeve. Her eyes narrowed as her hand reached for the gash on his cheek.

"You should see the other guy," he said.

"You'll definitely blend in if you show that you can bleed."

Kaelen couldn't help but notice the warmth of her hand as it observed his minor wound. His focus was cut short as a body tackled him into the dirt.