The air outside Amariel’s office was just as sharp and still as it had been when Ami had entered, but somehow, it felt heavier now—like the weight of her mother’s words had settled around her shoulders like an invisible cloak. She adjusted her robes nervously as she stepped into the Academy’s grand courtyard, her mind still reeling.

  The courtyard stretched out before her in perfect symmetry, every flower bed and fountain placed with mathematical precision. Even the pigeons that perched on the Academy’s marble statues seemed to hop in formation, as if afraid to disrupt the pristine order. It was beautiful, in a cold, lifeless way—a reflection of everything Dominion stood for.

  Ami’s boots scuffed against the polished tiles as she walked, the only sound in the otherwise silent expanse. For a moment, she thought she might be alone, and part of her wished that were true.

  But, of course, she wasn’t.

  “Amarantha,” came a voice from across the courtyard, smooth and deliberate, each syllable carefully measured. Ami winced at the use of her full name—she hated how it always sounded like an accusation. She didn’t have to look to know who had spoken.

  Eria.

  Ami turned reluctantly, her heart sinking as she saw the other girl standing near one of the fountains, her golden hair gleaming in the sunlight. Eria’s impeccable robes were free of any dust or imperfections, as always, and her posture radiated calm confidence. She looked like a sculpture come to life—a flawless representation of Dominion’s ideals.

  “Shouldn’t you be in the archives?” Eria asked, arching one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Or have you decided to abandon your studies entirely?”

  Ami clenched her fists, heat rising to her cheeks. “I needed some air,” she replied curtly, even though she knew Eria wouldn’t let it go at that.

  Eria took a step closer, her expression unreadable. “Air,” she repeated, as though testing the word. “Interesting. I suppose it’s easier to breathe when you’re not weighed down by expectations.”

  oh, she’s good, Anna whispered in Ami’s mind, her voice curling like smoke. just enough bite to sting, but polite enough to make you look petty if you snap back. classic eria.

  “Not now,” Ami muttered under her breath.

  Eria tilted her head slightly, her sharp blue eyes narrowing. “What was that?”

  “Nothing,” Ami said quickly, forcing herself to meet Eria’s gaze. “What do you want?”

  Eria’s lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh, nothing in particular. I just thought it was curious to see you wandering the courtyard after the... excitement of this morning. I imagine Professor Amariel wasn’t pleased with your performance.”

  Ami’s stomach twisted. Of course Eria had heard about her failure in the Hall of Weaving. The entire Academy probably had by now. She could picture the whispers, the smug remarks, the laughter behind her back.

  “Do you enjoy this?” Ami snapped before she could stop herself. “Making me feel worse than I already do?”

  “Enjoy it?” Eria repeated, feigning surprise. “Of course not. I simply think it’s important to reflect on one’s mistakes. Dominion magic demands precision, after all. And precision requires discipline.”

  Her tone was calm, almost gentle, but the words cut like shards of broken glass.

  let me at her, Anna purred, her voice brimming with mischief. just a little chaos. nothing permanent. maybe some glitter in her hair. or a nice pink streak down her perfect robes.

  Ami shook her head slightly, trying to silence Anna’s whispers. “I don’t need a lecture,” she said through gritted teeth. “Not from you.”

  Eria’s smile widened, and for a brief moment, there was something almost... playful in her expression. “Oh, Amarantha,” she said, her voice softening just enough to sound sincere. “It’s not a lecture. It’s advice. You should learn to take it.”

  Ami stared at her, unsure whether to feel insulted or grateful. Before she could decide, another voice cut through the tension like a blade.

  “Now, now,” said Fayra, her tone light and teasing as she strolled into view. The foxgirl’s fluffy tail swished behind her as she approached, her golden eyes glinting with amusement. “What’s this? Dominion’s darling prodigy giving advice to the class troublemaker? This should be good.”

  Eria’s expression tightened ever so slightly, but she didn’t respond. Fayra’s irreverence was as much a part of her as her mismatched robes and perpetually unkempt hair, and Eria had long since learned that arguments with her were a losing battle.

  “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Eria asked coldly, her gaze flicking to Fayra’s disheveled appearance. “Preferably somewhere far from me?”

  Fayra grinned, unbothered. “Oh, come on, Eria. You know you’d miss me.” She turned to Ami, her grin softening just enough to feel genuine. “You okay, Fireworks?”

  Ami managed a weak smile at the nickname—Fayra’s constant reminder of her explosive tendencies. It wasn’t exactly comforting, but it was better than “Amarantha.”

  “I’m fine,” Ami said quietly.

  Fayra glanced between Ami and Eria, her grin widening. “Good. Because I was just thinking this boring courtyard could use a little excitement. What do you say, Ami? Fancy humiliating Eria in front of the entire Academy?”

  Ami blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

  Eria’s eyes narrowed. “I’d advise you to choose your next words carefully, Fayra.”

  Fayra waved a hand dismissively. “Relax, Princess Perfection. I’m just saying—what better way to prove yourself than a good old-fashioned duel?”

  Ami’s stomach dropped. “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Oh, come on!” Fayra said, her tone practically dripping with mock enthusiasm. “You’ve got nothing to lose. Well, except maybe your dignity. But that’s already hanging by a thread, isn’t it?”

  do it, Anna whispered eagerly. please. let me take over. i promise it’ll be spectacular.

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  Ami shook her head firmly. “I’m not doing this.”

  “Afraid?” Eria asked, her voice as smooth and poised as ever. But there was a glint of something in her eyes—challenge, or maybe curiosity.

  “No,” Ami snapped, though the tremble in her voice betrayed her. “I just don’t see the point.”

  “Prove me wrong,” Eria said simply. “Unless, of course, you can’t.”

  Ami’s chest tightened. All around the courtyard, students had begun to gather, their murmurs rising as the tension simmered. She could feel their eyes on her, waiting, watching. Judging.

  she’s baiting you, darling, Anna purred. but wouldn’t it be fun to take the bait?

  Ami swallowed hard, her heart pounding. She didn’t want to do this. She couldn’t do this. But as the words spilled from her lips, she knew she had already lost the fight.

  “Fine,” she said, her voice shaking but steady enough to carry. “Let’s do it.”

  The courtyard erupted in murmurs of excitement, and Fayra’s grin widened triumphantly. “Now this is going to be fun.”

  The courtyard buzzed with energy now, the audience growing as whispers rippled across the expanse. Students filtered in from nearby corridors and study halls, drawn by the promise of an impromptu duel. Some climbed onto the edges of the marble fountains, eager for a better view, while others leaned against the symmetrical pillars that lined the courtyard’s perimeter. The air was sharp with anticipation.

  Ami stood stiffly in the center of the courtyard, her heart hammering in her chest. She had no idea how things had escalated this quickly. One moment she’d been walking out of Amariel’s office, desperate to disappear for a while, and now... this.

  Facing her, Eria looked perfectly composed, as always. Her golden hair caught the sunlight in a way that made her look annoyingly radiant, and her expression was calm, bordering on amused. She wasn’t nervous. Why would she be? She was Dominion’s golden child, the prodigy, the rule-following, thread-weaving exemplar of everything Ami had yet to master.

  she’s insufferably smug, came Anna’s voice, curling in the back of Ami’s mind. don’t you want to knock that perfect braid of hers out of place? just a little?

  Ami swallowed hard. She had no interest in feeding Anna’s chaos. Or at least, that’s what she told herself.

  “Well, then,” Eria said, her voice smooth and unwavering as she addressed the crowd. “Shall we establish the terms?”

  Fayra, now acting as an eager self-appointed referee, twirled into the space between them, her tail swishing with excitement. “Oh, rules, rules, rules!” she said with mock enthusiasm. “Yes, let’s! How boringly Dominion of you, Eria.”

  “There’s no need for anything excessive,” Eria replied, ignoring Fayra’s jab. “Standard sparring conditions will suffice. No fatal techniques. The duel ends when one of us yields or is incapacitated.”

  “Standard conditions,” Fayra said with a dramatic sigh. “Fine, fine. But let’s at least make it entertaining.”

  Ami’s hands were clammy as she nodded silently. She didn’t trust herself to speak without her voice cracking. She clenched and unclenched her fists, trying to ignore the dozens of eyes now watching her every move.

  “Do you accept, Amarantha?” Eria asked, tilting her head slightly. She always used Ami’s full name, as if it were a weapon.

  “Yes,” Ami said, her voice steadier than she expected.

  Fayra clapped her hands together. “Lovely! Now let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” She darted out of the way with surprising agility for someone so flippant, taking a seat on one of the nearby fountains.

  Eria stepped into position, her movements fluid and precise as she raised her hands. Threads of golden light began to unfurl around her fingers, weaving themselves into elegant patterns that pulsed with restrained power.

  Ami inhaled sharply, trying not to panic. She could feel the threads all around her, buzzing faintly at the edge of her perception. They were like a thousand tiny strings pulling in different directions, and no matter how hard she tried to focus, she could never seem to align them the way she was supposed to.

  fighting fair won’t work, darling, Anna whispered, her voice soft but insistent. she’s stronger than you. better trained. you don’t need to beat her at her own game... you just need to surprise her.

  “No,” Ami muttered under her breath.

  no, what? no surprises? no victory? no fun? you’re being boring, darling. i hate boring.

  “Focus,” Ami whispered to herself, ignoring Anna. She raised her hands slowly, hesitantly, and reached for the threads.

  They resisted, as they always did. Dominion’s magic had never come easily to her. It slipped through her grasp like water, refusing to bend to her will no matter how hard she tried.

  “And... begin!” Fayra shouted, breaking the tension.

  Eria didn’t hesitate. She extended her arm in a graceful motion, and the golden threads around her sprang to life. They shot forward in a precise, spiraling pattern, cutting through the air like polished blades.

  Ami barely managed to react in time. She stumbled to the side, raising her own threads in a frantic, uneven barrier. The golden strands clashed against hers, and the force of the impact sent her reeling backward.

  The crowd gasped, their whispers growing louder.

  oh, you’re going to lose, Anna said, her voice practically purring with delight. unless, of course, you stop playing nice.

  “I’ve got this,” Ami muttered through gritted teeth, though her trembling hands suggested otherwise.

  Eria’s movements were seamless, her threads dancing like ribbons in the wind. She pressed forward with another strike, this time weaving a complex spiral that wrapped around Ami’s defenses.

  Panic surged through Ami’s chest. She could feel the threads slipping, falling apart under the weight of Eria’s precision. She clenched her fists, willing them to hold, but it was no use.

  let me help you, Anna whispered, her tone almost soothing now. just a little push. no one will even notice.

  “No,” Ami said again, louder this time.

  Eria’s next attack came faster, stronger. The golden threads lashed out, catching Ami off-guard and sending her sprawling to the ground. She landed hard, the breath knocked out of her.

  The crowd murmured, their excitement faltering.

  Eria paused, lowering her hands slightly as she regarded Ami. “Do you yield?” she asked, her voice neutral but firm.

  Ami’s vision blurred with frustration. Her shoulders slumped, and for a moment, she considered giving up. She wasn’t strong enough. She never had been.

  but i am, Anna whispered, her voice sly and inviting. all you have to do is let me in.

  For the briefest moment, Ami hesitated. Then she gritted her teeth and pushed herself to her feet.

  “Not yet,” she said, her voice steadier than it had been all day.

  Eria raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond. She simply resumed her stance, her threads glowing brighter as they spiraled into another formation.

  Ami reached for the threads again, this time with a different approach. Instead of trying to fight them, she let them come to her—allowed them to swirl around her hands in a chaotic, uneven pattern. They weren’t perfect, but they were hers.

  When Eria’s next attack came, Ami met it head-on. Her threads clashed with Eria’s, wild and untamed but powerful in their own way. For the first time, she felt something shift—like the threads were responding to her, not resisting.

  The crowd gasped again, louder this time. Even Fayra looked surprised.

  Eria’s composure faltered ever so slightly, and in that moment, Ami saw an opening. She seized it, weaving her chaotic threads into a rough but effective counterattack.

  The result wasn’t elegant or precise. It was messy and unpredictable, a clash of colors and energy that defied Dominion’s rigid structure. But it worked.

  Eria stumbled backward, her golden threads unraveling under the force of Ami’s magic. Her eyes widened, just for a moment, before she quickly regained her composure.

  The courtyard fell silent, the tension thick in the air.

  Ami lowered her hands, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her threads flickered and faded, leaving only silence in their wake.

  “Well,” Eria said, her voice calm but edged with something new—something almost like respect. “It seems I underestimated you.”

  The crowd erupted into murmurs, but Ami barely heard them. She stood there, trembling but standing, and for the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel like a failure.