The sun is sinking low.
Bealist is finally in sight.
Nalar approaches us, her posture sharp, almost aggressive.
Uh-oh. A lecture coming? Don't tell me—
"So. You're finally back. Training's been underway for quite some time."
She turns her gaze on Grogher, half curious, half openly disdainful.
"And you? Who are you supposed to be?"
And why should she care? She's not the one in charge here.
"A friend of mine. Come on. Baelkers is waiting for us."
She eyes me with one eyebrow lifted in warning.
I find myself almost liking her.
"His Majesty Baelkers is expecting you," she snaps. "This way."
-----
We step inside the room.
Aileen is in the middle of casting a levitation spell on a flower vase.
By all the thunder gods—not at me.
I swing my arm, deflecting it.
The vase smashes against the wall, shattering.
She still has a lot to learn.
"Uh… hi…" I say.
She doesn't even seem to hear me.
"Nice try…" I add.
She must be angry. So angry she's pretending I'm not even here.
That's bad.
How am I supposed to apologize if she won't let me?
"I'm sorry, Master," she says instead, turning to Baelkers. "I still don't fully control the spell. May I try again?"
He winks at me. Is he trying to help?
"There's no rush, Aileen," he replies calmly. "If my intuition serves me well, Dorcha needs to speak with you. Alone, am I right? In the meantime, I'll take the opportunity to get to know our new companion better. Welcome, Knight Grogher."
He inclines his head slightly toward my friend, then gestures for him to follow.
Grogher looks caught off guard.
But he follows.
And she and I…
We're left alone.
Perfect.
Except… now what?
She shoots me a look full of superiority, then sits down against the wall, closes her eyes, and begins to meditate.
Clearly, she has no intention of making this easy for me.
I get it. I treated her terribly.
Still—I have to try.
I sit down beside her.
She doesn't move.
Fine.
If I wait for her to make the first move, nothing will ever happen.
"I know you're listening," I say at last.
I look at her.
Nothing.
So I keep going.
"I admit it—I behaved horribly. Worse than the worst orc," I blurt out in one breath.
And then—miracle of miracles—she turns toward me.
Sharp.
Furious.
But she turns.
"Oh, you'd better believe it!" she explodes. "What on earth were you thinking?! You could have hurt me, you know that?"
What?
"I would never hurt you! I was just—confused. Please… forgive me."
"Confused? Why—because you still don't know who you are?" she snaps. "Do you think I do? Do you think any of this is easy for me? Just a few days ago, everything was fine. My parents were with me. My friends were safe. I was playing with clouds like it was nothing. And now? I'm here. Surrounded by strangers. Playing the heroine. My father might be dead. My mother is a statue. I have to learn how to fight. How to use magic. Do you have any idea what that means for me? It means I could die. And yet it never once crossed my mind to treat you the way you treated me!"
"You're right," I say quietly. "All of it is true. But for me… it's different."
She jumps to her feet with unexpected agility.
She's angry.
Angrier than before.
"And why would it be different, exactly? Let's hear it! Because you found out your life is a lie? Well, let me tell you something: if your adoptive parents lied to you, they probably had their reasons! They raised you. And raising someone is a huge responsibility! The truth is, you're spoiled—and for you, running away is easier than fighting!"
What?
I've never run from anything in my life! How can she insult me like that?
"You're talking nonsense! I'm a Knight! Fighting is my life!"
"Oh, please!" she snaps, hands on her hips. "If you were truly a Knight, you'd know how to set your priorities—and we wouldn't have already lost an entire night and a full day! A day and a night, Dorcha. In a magical month. Do I have to do the math for you?"
She shouted.
But that's not what leaves me speechless.
I'm stunned.
She's no longer the frightened little girl I rescued in the forest a few days ago—the one who couldn't tell one berry from another.
She's a Princess standing on the threshold of becoming a Queen.
And I hate to admit it, but… she's right.
There's no time to waste. Not even a second.
I stand up and meet her gaze.
Eye to eye.
Equal to equal.
"Aileen… I know I was wrong. I take full responsibility."
I step a little closer.
"All I ask is that you trust me again. Will you?"
What is she doing?
Is she… hugging me?
Why?
I feel like a tree trunk—completely frozen, not knowing what to do.
I swallow, but I don't move.
Truth is… I like it.
Then she pulls back and looks at me, serious once more.
"Let's call the Master. It's time to continue."
Baelkers enters the room, followed by Grogher, Inmus, and Nalar.
"No need to call me—I'm already here. Good. Let's begin," he says. "Grogher, as we discussed earlier, you will train Aileen in combat. Study her carefully and determine which weapon she excels with. Inmus, Nalar—you'll train both Aileen and Dorcha in jumping. They must become as agile and swift as we elves are. I will continue teaching Aileen magic and further strengthen Dorcha's abilities. After that, I'll instruct them in strategy and oversee their progress. Is everything clear?"
"Yes!" we all answer in unison.
I feel strange.
Almost… happy.
"Perfect. Come with me."
-----
I'm restless.
Shaken.
On one hand, I'm glad he apologized…
on the other, I'm not sure I truly know how to forgive him.
What I do know is this: I don't want to train with someone I'm still angry with.
So… this will have to do.
At least, we made peace.
The Master, Inmus, and Nalar are escorting us—along with Dorcha's friend—toward the training grounds.
That's where we'll be practicing, it seems.
-----
The day Dorcha brought me herrre, to Bealist, our training began.
Dorcha proved himself to be the grrreat warrior he has always been.
And the girrrl—she's a natural marvel.
It's as if she was borrrn with a spear in her hands.
She's flexible, agile, elven in her movements.
Trrraining her is a true pleasure.
I thought she might reject me.
Instead, she never once looked at me as something lesser. Frrrom the very beginning, she was kind. Affectionate.
The Elves are extrrraordinary.
They leap like fleas, fight like beasts, and magic seems to flow thrrrough their veins alongside their blood.
And Master Baelkerrrs… he is the wisest, most capable guide I have ever encounterrred.
I'm almost afrrraid to admit it, but—for the first time in my life—
I feel like I belong.
-----
From magic to combat, from leaps to strategy, the days followed one another in a frantic, demanding, exhilarating rhythm—
perhaps faster than I would have wished.
I stretched the time within each single day, so that Aileen, Dorcha, and Grogher would experience it as two full years passing.
I wonder if it was enough.
Aileen is like a child discovering the art of movement in an unknown world.
At first, concentration was difficult for her.
Her mind built a barrier against her own mental power.
But I managed to unlock it.
When she learns to trust herself as well, she will discover that she is far more powerful than she dares to imagine.
Grogher has realized that, just as there is no better weapon for Dorcha than the sword, for her it is the spear.
It is a perfect foundation for jumping—and an excellent weapon to strike an enemy.
Yesterday, she confided in me that the idea of having to use it to kill terrifies her.
But as I always tell her…
there is no certainty that it will ever be necessary.
-----
This training is nothing like what Bàistec put me through.
Only now do I begin to glimpse what true power really is.
And one thing, at least, I'm certain of: it has nothing to do with what he believes.
Magic, too… it's nothing like the way Urchoicha taught it to me.
It requires a visceral respect for nature, for every living creature in the world.
If, as the Master says, you learn to build instead of destroy, its power expands in extraordinary ways.
Dlì nà cruinne.
That is its true essence.
I've learned to feel with my heart.
To perceive, to see, with senses stretched to their very limits—like those of an animal, and even beyond.
But now there's one part left.
The most difficult of all.
You must come to know yourself deeply.
Facing yourself—your own monsters—is… far worse than any troll.
They're ants, compared to this.
In this, Aileen is far ahead of me.
She's truly strong.
Hey—she fell!
"Aileen! Are you all right?" I ask, rushing to her side and offering my hand.
She looks at me.
She's panting, covered in dirt.
She smiles.
"Of course!"
She slaps my hand away, as if to say she's fine, then springs back to her feet like a squirrel.
"Let's keep going, Grogher!"
I watch her for a moment longer, filled with admiration—
then I return to my training.
-----
Time is flying.
The first trial is getting closer.
I'm learning how to fight, how to create illusions, how to use my mind and weave magic—but I can't stop wondering if I'll truly be able to make it.
I wish I could be like Grogher…
or like Dorcha.
When he fights, he is—
precise.
Ruthless.
Unyielding.
His eyes narrow, sharp and focused, like blades locked onto the enemy.
It's as if every movement naturally extends his body, as though he is the weapon.
But I've learned something else about him, too.
He's kind.
And his soul is far more delicate than he ever lets the world see.
I'm grateful that he and Grogher chose to help me on this journey.
On my own…
I don't know if I would be able to do it.
-----
My mother and I are truly satisfied with our students.
They're talented.
And they never stop.
Every day, they push their training late into the night, sometimes forgetting even to eat.
That's rare.
And it's a winning trait.
No matter how this ends, the fate of our world couldn't have been placed in better hands.
-----
Today was the last day of training.
Baelkers gathered us in front of our quarters.
He looks at each of us in turn…
I can't read his expression. It's impossible to decipher.
Then his gaze stops on me.
"The two months are over. Tomorrow is the day of the trial, to obtain our Magical Secret. Aileen, my brother will come for you at the field at sunrise. Be punctual."
My throat tightens. I feel saliva catch as I swallow.
He didn't say anything strange.
And yet… what was that tone?
Maybe I'm just nervous about tomorrow, but—
it felt deeply unsettling.