The crisp ringing of thin metals echoed in the stone hallways, each one followed by another. Grunts followed after every other strike. The sound's intensity contrasted the lilac sky that lit an open sparring arena. Its domed roof was being held by a series of pillars that created arches.

Lyra was holding her own against Kaelen. Her footwork matched his but was faster, sacrificing strength for speed. Kaelen did his best to avoid her strikes, but she kept closing the distance. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he deflected her attack. Lyra's eyes burned with her newfound passion. Each strike was a fixed error of past spars with Kaelen and other knights.

Kaelen planted his foot, holding one of her strikes. Their bodies were close; he could feel the heat emanate from her. Lyra dipped towards the ground; one hand held her sword while the other drove her momentum into Kaelen's rib cage, curling his body. The smile disappeared from Kaelen's face as Lyra was starting to get serious. He jumped back and retook his stance.

"Someone's getting cocky," he said, his chest heaving. "It's not always a bad thing. Just don't let it get to your head!"

Kaelen charged forward with another leap, his sword in a readable arch. Something Lyra has seen a hundred times at this point. She almost chuckled when his body began to spin to where his body was parallel to the ground. Lyra raised her sword to block his strike, but the power of the collision broke her blade. Without missing a beat, she threw both pieces of her shattered blade at Kaelen. He dodged the first piece and deflected the other. Lyra closed the gap again, watching his arm raise with his sword. She met it with hers, grabbing his arm just under the elbow. Before he could grapple her, she had already maneuvered behind him, her feet kicking up from the ground. One leg wrapped around his neck from the shoulder while the other wrapped from under the armpit. She quickly curled her body forward, transferring her energy to slam Kaelen into the ground, pinning him into an armbar.

But this didn't deter him from teaching her a lesson.

His body twisted, feeling his blood being trapped in his head. Lyra now faced down towards the ground, but her form was unrelenting. He dropped his sword to have the full contraction of his arm. His knees curled towards his chest, and with all his might, he lifted himself and her off the ground. Lyra felt her chances slimming as he stood, releasing her hold onto his arm. She disappeared for a moment from his sight. Then a sudden force knocked him off his feet, allowing Lyra to mount him. Her hands pinned his shoulders to the ground, and her face was now inches away from his. She panted from the exertion of their training, her breath warm against his. Their eyes locked—her eyes studying his honey-filled irises while he got lost in her evergreen gaze—their hearts fluttered just for a moment before Lyra cleared her throat.

"I guess I'm the winner," she said, getting up from on top of him. "Maybe you should turn into a werewolf so you can beat me," she tried joking. She hurried to turn to hide the flushing of her cheeks.

"Well, you're getting good!" he choked out. "At fighting, you're doing. . . a great job at remembering everything."

The room fell silent, allowing a gust of wind to howl through the room.

"The tournament's only two days away," she said, her words echoing through the room. "I still gotta fight Helen before you get to complete your goal of helping me reach the top."

"I told you you can do it," he said, scratching his head as he looked around. "You'll have to bring everything you got when you fight her. She's a hell of a fighter with her halberd."

"I'll figure something out," she finally turned around to face him. "I always do."

"If it's one thing you can do, you can think fast on your feet. Use that and your speed, and you'll be unstoppable."

Kaelen's coaching brought them closer together. She fought in ways she never thought would be possible for her, and all of it thanks to Kaelen. Lyra's metal was tested and broken multiple times, leaving her mind an arsenal of honed martial arts, and she was ready for the next test.

· · ─ · ◯☽✵☾◯ · ─ · ·

Across the field of the Knight's Academy, Helen practiced with her halberd in solitude. Her movements were as if the polearm were an extension of her body—smooth and powerful.

Her armor was light due to the weight of her weapon of choice, a preference only she had, and Lyra never understood. Her greaves, however, were thick, covering her extremities very meticulously to make up for her fighting style, while her torso was trusted to a leather breastplate and backplate. The color of her armor was grey, lined with fur all the way up to the hips, giving her padding and protection to side attacks.

Helen's expression was listless, yet her practice showed so much passion. Sweat dripped from her brow, her eyes narrowing at Lyra as she approached. Her dark brown hair was put up in an intricate bun with braids, leaving locks of hair flowing in front of her ear.

"So you are the last?" She said, twirling her halberd before sticking its talon into the dirt. Her emotionless expression left no room for small talk.

"May I have this duel?" Lyra asked. She observed a cloth draped on her non-dominant side of her hip—yellow, but the insignia she couldn't identify.

"If I win," Helen twirled her halberd into a fighting stance. "Make sure not to cry. That's all I ask."

"If I win," Lyra unsheathed her sword and threw away the scabbard. "I'm going to have to ask for a favor."

"You're an interesting one, Algernon. But that won't be enough to beat me!"

Helen's halberd closed the distance within seconds, the spike at the tip nearly grazing Lyra's cheek. But the attack had two parts—if the spike missed, next came the point of the blade—Helen hoped to land one. However, Lyra's reflexes were faster. She raised her sword against the shaft, parrying Helen's halberd upwards, but she pulled it back to herself.

This would be Lyra's first polearm fight, waters that were uncharted for her, but she sailed with unwavering optimism.

Lyra charged forward.

Her sword centered on her body. Helen turned, her halberd following her until the talon jabbed at Lyra, but it met her blade. Lyra raised her sword above her head, propelling the sword into a swift strike while Helen was left open. Her halberd effortlessly went perpendicular to her blade with an adjustment of her arm. With a shove, Helen was able to push Lyra back, creating an opening of her own. With a twirl of her halberd, she went to strike Lyra's ribs with the beak side of her weapon. Lyra stepped back, parrying the point of her halberd instead.

But this didn't stop Helen's attack.

She planted her foot, using the momentum from the parry to spin back around with her blade side. With this speed, Lyra couldn't dodge it, not with its reach. She braced for impact by reinforcing her sword with her other hand.

The halberd struck her blade—pain spiking like a wave through her arms—all of its weight plus the inertia did damage despite not cutting into her.

Helen's blade twirled beside her again, and the two stood in front of one another almost in admiration. But this was only the beginning of the fight.

"You know how to use that thing!" exclaimed Lyra, shaking her arms free of their firing nerves.

Helen let out a scoff as she charged again. Lyra wasn't expecting her to close the distance herself. It went to show her that anything was possible in a fight, to expect the unexpected, as Kaelen simply put it. She readied herself, setting aside the shaking in both her arms. Helen started with an upwards strike; her body moved like water, allowing her momentum to carry the strike with practiced precision.

Lyra stepped aside, which Helen seemed to predict as her body pivoted to bring the talon rushing into her gut. The sudden thud knocked air out of Lyra's lungs and forced her to jump back and recollect herself.

However, Helen had different plans—there was no such thing as resting in battle—she charged forward once again, pushing Lyra back further into a defensive state. Her series of attacks was relentless, almost blurring if you blinked too much. Lyra had no choice but to block and dodge her efforts, her muscles becoming strained with the tenacity of Helen's halberd.

Lyra was losing ground.

She knew if this were any ordinary battle, she would've been killed by now. Helen has been her fiercest opponent yet, pushing her to her limits within minutes. But Helen had limits too.

Lyra began to analyze her movements. Despite Helen's techniques being perfected, there was something that always left her open. The way she had to carry the momentum and how she would make a dead stop to force her halberd to go the other way. These were the openings that Lyra had to look out for.

And so she did. Every step was calculated. Even though Helen forced her to move the way she wanted, Lyra could see what was coming next. And once the opening presented itself, Lyra dashed in with her blade reared back, but to her surprise, Helen's boot planted itself perfectly into her stomach with a spinning back kick.

Lyra curled up on the floor, gasping for air, and she felt her mouth beginning to salivate.

"You're good, Algernon, I'll give you that," said Helen, standing triumphantly over Lyra with her weapon in the ground. "But learning how to fight is different than being bred to fight. It's in my nature to win against people like you."

"Shut up," Lyra choked out, her breathing regulating after several coughs. Her eyes glared upwards at her, facing her apathetic expression. "No one's born to do anything. Everyone has a right to choose the path they want to go down. And I'm not choosing to lose."

She darted at Helen again from the ground. Lyra went to grapple her but failed, as all Helen had to do was move. She picked up her halberd and readied the polearm once again.

Lyra turned, and with both her hands, she threw her blade and watched as it spun towards Helen. Helen's eyes widened at the surprise that she would throw her only weapon, deflecting it flawlessly. But that wasn't Lyra's attack; it was a diversion, and it worked. Lyra was able to get close to her and wrap herself around her leg, kicking the ground and using her other leg to offset Helen's balance and making her fall.

The fight was brought to the ground. Helen wasted no time in trying to recover, dropping her halberd as soon as she felt herself get taken. She wasn't a stranger in these waters; it was as if she was trained for these specific moments when she couldn't fight with her weapon.

Lyra tried to subdue her in a leg bar, struggling to get her grip right. Helen began kicking away from her, but Lyra had the upper hand now. Lyra hugged Helen's leg close to her chest and began to arch her back. Helen let out a sharp groan and tapped on Lyra.

"I yield, I yield!" Helen barked.

Lyra let go of her leg in an instant, her heart racing at the fact that she just won. She sat on her legs to gather herself.

"You don't know how to fight with a blade, do you?" Helen wondered. Her hand rubbing the stressed joint that Lyra caused. "You sure look like you do, but you're excelling at grappling more than actual swordplay."

"I'm learning the best I can," she replied, picking random blades of grass in defeat. "I've never fought before—well," she stopped herself, recalling the memory of the day of her greatest loss. "It at least has been a while."

Helen must've seen the pain in her eyes as she approached with a hand held out to her.

"I don't know what you've been through, Algernon, but I know you have resolve. You made sure to show me that."

Lyra took her hand, and Helen helped her to her feet.

"You've changed your attitude towards me; why is that?"

"Because you of all people didn't belong here, unlike your friend." Helen's reply stabbed her in the heart, but she understood. At first she felt like that too. "The kingdom's grateful for your revolutionary discoveries. But people believed you came here to play around, as did I. But now I see. There's passion in the way you fight, even though it's sloppy."

Lyra looked towards the setting sun, the green flash imminent its setting wake. The moon revealed itself, despite the day, during its first quarter.

"What do you fight for?' Lyra asked, her gaze in the apparent horizon locked.

A silence befell them. A cold wind whipped through, but they stood unwavering.

"For my family's honor," Helen finally replied. "I know that can only get me so far, but it's all I have."

"I think that's noble of you," said Lyra, finally breaking away from her gaze. "To fight for something or someone is always admirable."

"What do you fight for, Algernon?"

"I fight to end this bloodshed. I won't rest until this war has come to a stop and this world is at peace."

"I see. Then you're more ready than you know."

The two shook hands and turned in for the evening.

· · ─ · ◯☽✵☾◯ · ─ · ·

Back at the Veil estate, Lyra had finished a long, rewarding bath. She found herself curled by the Everfire once again. Though Aeris was busy with her politics, she wished to see her so she could tell her she would be competing in the Winter Solstice Games. Even though the manor was filled with servants and people alike, it felt lonely.

The door suddenly opened, startling Lyra out of her thoughts. It was Higgs and Senator Fogan.

"Ah. Ms. Lyra!" said Higgs. "Good to have you back this evening."

"It's good to see the kingdom's prodigy in good health," he noticed the pathognomic markings going up her arm. "For the most part."

"Where's Aeris?" Lyra asked.

"Last I checked, she was preparing in the Senate building. I've been tasked with bringing these papers personally to her office here."

Senator Fogan set the papers neatly on Aeris' desk. His fingers then brushed the edge as he looked at the portrait of Aeris' mother.

"You two really do have my condolences; they were great people who left us too soon. I wish there was more I could do and say, but it would only do so little for you."

"That does more than you know." Lyra said, her knees curling to her chest.

"Congratulations!" He exclaimed, doing his best to lift the pressure that was in the room. "Word has already spread that you will be presenting the Kingdom of Kogeer. I'm not going to lie; I wasn't expecting that at all."

"Not a lot did," she agreed. "But, it goes to show, anything can happen."

"I'm sure you'll do great, Ms. Lyra," said Higgs. "We all have faith in you."

Though they couldn't see it, a smile tugged at Lyra's lips, her heart now soothed.

· · ─ · ◯☽✵☾◯ · ─ · ·

A chill weaseled its way up Lyra's spine, waking her up from her slumber. The blue light from the Glowstone never gave any detail as to what part of the day it is. Its mood, however, represented two things—relaxation and depression—never both at the same time.

Lyra stood up from her makeshift bed of hay needles and a blanket she pulled from her mother's room. An aroma of cooked eggs and meat made her salivate; her stomach clenched in anticipation.

Her nose began to follow the scent and found Kaelen in her laboratory, sitting on the table with a plate of food. Her shoulders slouched as her facial expression dropped with them.

"Looks like you're finally awake," he said, a mouth full of food. "My mother suggested I bring you some food," Kaelen held a plate full of food. "She heard you came late last night."

Lyra didn't hesitate to snatch the plate from him. Her eyes were on the verge of tears at the kindness of his mother.

"I won against Helen."

"Oh yeah?" His voice warranting skepticism. "Then you should be the talk of the academy then."

They saved their conversation until they were finished stuffing their mouths. After a sip of water, they began to walk around to warm up.

The lair wasn't especially warm; it was quite the opposite. This would feel nicer during the summer, she thought.

"So, what's on the agenda?" Lyra asked.

"Well, it's the day of the tournament. I should probably make sure you get prepared properly." Kaelen stopped suddenly. "I'm not sure how your tournaments usually go. But I would bring the best you have. Armor and weapon-wise."

"You don't think what I have is capable?"

"It'll last you one battle at the most. So yes, very incapable."

Lyra stopped by the room where she stored her mother's armor. Something other than pain washed over her. It was warm and inviting, calling to her as if it were tugging at her fingers. One foot hesitated to walk as the other began to guide her.

Once again she faced the reflections of herself on the armor, but this time she looked different. Her fingers traced the runes around the holes of the armor.

"Have you decided what to do with this thing?" Kaelen stood at the door, holding the rhombus energy cell. But his words crashed in his throat as he began to study the armor. "This is Lycran armor!"

"What?" said Lyra, a look of puzzlement on her face. "That's not possible. How could my mother obtain this?"

"I, er. . . I don't really know," he admitted. "But this is certainly crafted by my people. I can tell by the runes engraved on it."

His fingers brushed against the metal. But once he got close enough, the energy cell began to react to the armor, pulsing and producing heat.

"What's happening?" He said, holding it to her.

Lyra took it in her hands and held it closer to the set of armor. Once it touched, the armor glowed the pinkish-purple color for a second and then faded.

"I think they work together!" Lyra exclaimed. Her excitement was contained in her smile. "This is it! This is what I'll show the world."

"How do you know for sure?"

"I can just feel it," she said, starting to equip the armor.

This set of armor was slightly heavier than what she was used to, but it was bearable. Everything was perfect, almost as if it were crafted to her. When she tightened the last strap, she looked at Kaelen. He walked up to her and handed her the helmet. When she donned the headpiece, Kaelen stared in admiration and awe.

"If only Aeris weren't so busy, she would definitely be beside herself right now."

Lyra agreed with Kaelen. The thought of her showing Aeris was exciting, as she was the one who wanted her to wear it the most.

She exited the room, feeling its weight as she walked. What would her mother think? Is this where her true journey begins? Her nerves began to unsettle at the thoughts. But before her thoughts could get captured, Kaelen patted her backplate, which snapped her from her mind.

"Now's the weapon." Kaelen began to scan the room where all of her mother's weapons were on display. Except for one: Oathbreaker. The secondary weapon of General Gaius. Its grip had a white wrap; the guard and pommel seemed as if they were broken off glaciers with their spiked design. The blade itself seemed black, but it was only a trick of the eye.

The smile crept away from his face as he inspected it. Lyra could see the ache in his heart from his expression.

"I've kept it, obviously. But I'd be more at peace if someone like you were to wield it."

"No," he declined right away. "General Gaius has given this to you," he picked up the blade and handed it to her. "It's for you and you alone."

Lyra held the blade once more. Its weight was lighter than she could remember. She sheathed the blade to where it rested parallel to the ground behind her back. Her mind was already set on the short sword. When she held it, she felt as if she had no choice but to inspect it. The blade was a simple double-edged sword, but the hilt was where all the artistic design went. Its guard was winged with ebony steel, and the ricasso was steepled with a stair-like design up to a flare before the blade itself. The pommel wasn't anything significant; it was cone-shaped. She sheathed the sword on her hip.

She brought the energy cell out again, and the armor shimmered to life. Her body felt lighter and seemingly stronger—an almost invincible feeling. Whatever stood in her path, she was ready to face them all.