The past three days had been a blur of movement and lessons, each one more exhausting than the last. They rode hard by day, the landscape of Kaiswen blurring into fields and forests as they pressed northward. Corix used the time to teach Raelyn about glyphs, his sharp voice drilling their shapes and sequences into her mind with relentless precision. He quizzed her often, making her recite and draw them in the air as they rode.

By night, Hovan took over, sparring with her by the fire. His lessons were grueling, pushing her to hold her stance, swing with control, and keep her footing even when every muscle screamed in protest. The combination of Corix's magical training and Hovan's physical drills left Raelyn drained, but she could feel herself changing, her body and mind slowly adapting to the relentless pace.

Rakz, ever watchful, perched on her shoulder or curled at her side, his presence a small comfort in the growing uncertainty. Through it all, the group moved forward, their eyes set on the border and the unknown lands beyond.

By mid-afternoon, the landscape began to shift. The open plains of Kaiswen gradually gave way to denser greenery, the trees growing taller and closer together as if nature itself sought to form a protective wall. The horizon shimmered faintly with the magical barrier that had shielded Kaiswen for centuries, its undulating light bending the air like heat rising from a metal plate in summer.

"There it is," Corix announced, pointing ahead. His voice held a note of reverence, even as his face remained unreadable. The barrier stretched endlessly in both directions, curving upward into the sky like a vast, transparent dome. It was almost invisible, save for the subtle distortion it caused, a rippling effect that seemed to hum with latent power.

Raelyn's gaze lingered on it, her chest tightening. The barrier had always been a constant in her life, a silent guardian that stood between her home and the dangers of the outside world. To her, it had been a promise of safety, a reminder that nothing could reach Kaiswen—not the demons of Bromaric, nor the chaos that lay beyond. But now, as they approached its edge, it felt more like a boundary between everything she had ever known and a vast, uncertain future.

"Do we... need to open it?" she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head. "No. The barrier is designed to keep threats out, not in. It allows people to leave freely—though few ever do."

When they finally crossed the threshold, Raelyn shivered. The air seemed to press against her skin, a faint vibration humming through her body. For a moment, it felt as though something was peeling away from her—a veil of warmth and security dissolving into the ether. She glanced back over her shoulder, her heart twisting as she saw the familiar plains of Kaiswen receding into the distance.

The moment they stepped fully beyond the barrier, the environment around them transformed. The air was crisper, tinged with the faint scent of blooming wildflowers and damp earth. The trees were taller here, their trunks wide and gnarled, their branches heavy with vibrant green leaves that filtered the sunlight into golden beams. The ground beneath their horses' hooves was softer, covered in a carpet of moss and fallen leaves that muffled their steps.

"This is Anderwyn," Corix said quietly, his voice breaking the spell of silence.

Raelyn looked around, her breath catching in her throat. It was beautiful—pristine, untouched by the corruption that had claimed Bromaric. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, their movements harmonious, as though they were alive in a way the forests of Kaiswen had never been. Birds sang from the canopy above, their melodies weaving through the rustle of leaves.

But despite its beauty, Raelyn felt a knot of unease in her stomach. Without the barrier at her back, the weight of vulnerability pressed down on her shoulders. She could almost feel the vastness of the world closing in, the safety she had taken for granted now a distant memory.

"It's strange," she said softly. "I always thought of the barrier as protection, but now that we're outside it..." She hesitated, searching for the right words. "It feels like anything could happen. Like demons could come at us at any moment."

Hovan, who had been riding silently, turned to her. "That's why we keep moving," he said gruffly. "And why we're teaching you to defend yourself." His hand rested instinctively on the hilt of his sword as his gaze swept the forest, ever watchful.

Corix's expression grew somber. "The elves have done well to keep the demons at bay," he said. "But make no mistake—the corruption of Bromaric is relentless. If the horde isn't stopped, it's only a matter of time before it spills into Anderwyn."

Raelyn frowned, her eyes scanning the forest. The trees were healthy, the grass vibrant, and the air alive with the sounds of nature. There was no sign of the blight that had consumed Bromaric's lands. But Corix's words lingered in her mind like a shadow.

"Then why hasn't it?" she asked. "Why hasn't the corruption spread here already?"

"Because the elves fight it," Corix replied. "Anderwyn's magic is different from ours—deeper, more connected to the natural world. They've held the line for centuries, but they can't hold it forever. Not without help."

Raelyn's grip on her reins tightened. The thought of this beautiful, vibrant land falling to the same darkness that had claimed Bromaric sent a chill down her spine.

Rakz chirped softly, his golden eyes flicking between the trees as if sensing her unease. She reached up to stroke his sapphire scales, the small gesture grounding her as they pressed further into Anderwyn's embrace.

For the first time in her life, Raelyn was beyond the barrier. And though the beauty of Anderwyn was undeniable, the weight of what lay ahead was heavier than ever.

That evening, they set up camp in a small clearing nestled among a grove of ancient trees. The fire crackled softly, casting warm, flickering light over their makeshift camp. Mist clung to the ground, swirling gently around their boots, and the faint scent of damp earth and pine lingered in the air. Above, the stars glittered faintly, their light muted by the thick canopy of branches overhead.

Raelyn stood near the fire, her sword resting against a nearby log, while Corix paced in front of her, his sharp gaze fixed on her. Hovan leaned casually against a tree nearby, his arms crossed as he observed the lesson with a faint smirk. Rakz perched on a fallen branch, his golden eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Tonight, we focus on the Shield of Light," Corix announced, his tone clipped and precise. "You've memorized the glyph. Now it's time to channel your medial and create the spell."

Raelyn nodded, though her stomach churned with nerves. Her earlier practice sessions with Corix had been grueling, and she wasn't eager to fail again under his scrutinizing gaze. She held up her hand, fingers trembling slightly as she prepared to draw the glyph.

"Steady," Corix said sharply, noticing the shake in her hand. "A shield is about control. Without focus, you might as well be wielding wet parchment."

Hovan chuckled softly, his deep voice cutting through the tension. "Don't take it personally, Raelyn. He makes everyone miserable."

Corix shot him a sharp look but said nothing, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Raelyn allowed herself a small smile at Hovan's remark, but it quickly faded as Corix stepped closer, his stern gaze locking onto hers. "Focus," he repeated. "This is not a game. Imagine the shield as an extension of yourself—a projection of your will. If you doubt, even for a second, it will crumble."

Taking a deep breath, Raelyn closed her eyes and held her hand aloft. She pictured the glyph in her mind, tracing its elegant lines with careful precision. Slowly, she began to move her fingers through the air, mimicking the pattern she had practiced so many times before.

At first, faint trails of golden light appeared where her fingers passed, but they flickered and wavered, threatening to vanish altogether. She frowned, her movements faltering.

"Again," Corix barked, his tone brooking no argument.

Raelyn clenched her jaw and tried once more, her fingers tracing the glyph with painstaking care. This time, the lines were slightly more stable, but as she reached the final stroke, the pattern dissolved into faint sparks.

"Concentrate!" Corix snapped. "You're hesitating."

"I'm trying!" Raelyn snapped back, her frustration bubbling to the surface. Her cheeks burned, and she clenched her fists, glaring at him. "It's not as easy as you make it sound!"

"Magic isn't easy," Corix retorted, his voice calm but firm. "If it were, everyone would wield it. Try again."

Raelyn took a deep, shuddering breath, closing her eyes once more. Her hand moved slower this time, her fingers tracing the glyph with deliberate precision. She pushed aside her frustration, forcing herself to focus solely on the image in her mind.

The golden lines reappeared, brighter and more stable this time. She held her breath as she completed the final stroke, and with a surge of willpower, the glyph solidified. The air before her shimmered, and a faint, translucent barrier of golden light flickered into existence.

Her eyes snapped open, and she gasped softly at the sight. The shield hovered before her, its surface rippling like sunlight on water. It wasn't perfect—its edges wavered, and the glow was faint—but it held.

"You did it," Corix said, his tone begrudgingly approving. "Barely."

Raelyn's chest swelled with a mix of relief and pride, though it was short-lived as Corix's expression remained stern. "Don't let this small success fool you. That shield wouldn't stop so much as a pebble. It's weak and unstable. You need practice."

"Couldn't you just say, 'Well done' like a normal person?" Hovan muttered, shaking his head.

Corix ignored him, turning back to Raelyn. "You'll practice this every night until it's strong enough to block an actual attack."

Raelyn sighed, her shoulders slumping. "And when will that be?"

"When you stop doubting yourself," Corix replied simply.

Hovan pushed off the tree and approached, clapping a hand on Raelyn's shoulder. "Don't let him get to you. You've already done something most people can't. You'll get there."

Raelyn glanced up at him.

"Besides," Hovan added, his tone light, "even if your shield is weak, that's what I'm here for. Anyone tries anything, they'll have to get through me first."

Raelyn's lips twitched into a small smile, but her relief was short-lived.

Hovan stepped forward, his sword in hand, the firelight catching along its polished blade. "Alright, my turn," he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Raelyn groaned, rolling her head back dramatically. "Haven't I done enough for one day?"

Hovan chuckled, his grin widening. "The demons won't care how tired you are. Now pick up your sword."

With a heavy sigh, Raelyn reached for her blade. The hilt felt more comfortable in her grasp with each session. She followed Hovan into the clearing, her legs stiff from hours of sitting.

"Show me your stance," he instructed, his tone firm but not unkind.

Raelyn planted her feet and raised the sword, gripping it tightly with both hands.

"Too stiff," Hovan said, stepping closer. He placed a hand on her shoulder, gently nudging her until her posture relaxed. "You need to stay balanced, but don't lock yourself in place. Flexibility is key. If you're rigid, you'll tire faster—and an opponent will knock you over with ease."

Raelyn shifted her stance, mimicking his adjustments. The sword wobbled in her hands as she tried to maintain control.

Hovan stepped back, appraising her with a critical eye. "Better. Now, swing."

She hesitated, the blade feeling heavier than it looked. With a deep breath, she swung it forward, the motion sending a jolt up her arms.

"Not bad," Hovan said, nodding. "But you're putting too much force into it. Strength will come with time. Right now, focus on control."

He stepped beside her, demonstrating a smooth, precise arc with his own sword. "It's not about brute force. It's about precision. Watch."

Raelyn studied his movements, the way his blade seemed to glide effortlessly through the air. She tried to replicate it, but her own swing came out clumsy and uneven.

"Again," Hovan said patiently.

The lesson stretched on, the faint glow of the fire casting flickering shadows around them. Hovan's voice was a steady rhythm of corrections and encouragement. "Don't overthink it. Let the sword flow with you."

"Watch your feet. Keep them moving."

"Don't grip it like it's a club—you're holding a blade, not a hammer."

Each swing of the sword sent shocks through Raelyn's arms, the muscles burning with effort. Her palms grew slick with sweat, and her breath came in ragged gasps.

"You're getting there," Hovan said, stepping forward to adjust her grip once more. His hands were rough but gentle, guiding her fingers into place. "This is about survival. Every mistake you make now is one less you'll make when it counts."

Raelyn nodded, biting back a retort. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs, her body screaming for rest, but she forced herself to keep going.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Hovan stepped back and lowered his sword. "That's enough for tonight."

Raelyn collapsed onto a nearby log, letting the sword fall to the ground beside her. She wiped her brow with her sleeve, her entire body trembling from exertion.

"You did well," Hovan said, clapping her on the shoulder. His voice was filled with quiet pride. "We'll pick up again tomorrow."

"Great," Raelyn muttered, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. Despite the exhaustion, there was a spark of satisfaction in her chest.

As Hovan moved to inspect his blade, Raelyn's gaze drifted to Corix, who sat near the fire with his spellbook open. His face was lit by the warm glow of the flames, his brow furrowed in concentration as he studied the pages.

"You're pushing her hard," Corix said without looking up, his voice calm but edged with a hint of criticism.

"She can handle it," Hovan replied, his tone unbothered. "Better to learn here than out there."

Corix hummed in response, turning a page. Rakz, perched on the edge of the log beside Raelyn, flicked his tongue and tilted his head, his golden eyes watching her intently.

Raelyn reached out to stroke the small reptile's sapphire scales, his warmth soothing against her tired fingers. "What do you think, Rakz?" she murmured. "Am I hopeless?"

The little creature let out a soft hiss, his tail curling around his body as if to reassure her.

As the fire crackled softly, Raelyn leaned back, staring up at the stars visible through the canopy of leaves above. Her thoughts drifted to the shield she had conjured earlier, its faint glow still vivid in her memory. It had been weak, but it was a start. And for the first time in days, she felt the faintest flicker of hope.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for tonight, she let herself rest, the distant sound of the forest lulling her into an uneasy sleep.