The first impact rang across the training grounds like a struck anvil.
Anna skidded backward across the stone, boots scraping, then planted her heel and twisted—redirecting the force instead of letting it throw her. She came up fast, breath sharp, eyes locked on Brom.
Brom grinned through a bruise already blooming along his jaw.
"Good," he growled—and surged forward again.
They collided in a blur of motion.
Brom was still holding back. Anna could feel it in every exchange—the way his blows stopped just short of crushing force, the way his footing adjusted to give her room to respond. But even restrained, he moved like a landslide given thought. Each step carried weight. Each strike tested her balance, her timing, her nerve.
Anna ducked under a wide hook, slid inside his guard, and drove her palm forward.
The air thickened.
Not an explosion—never that anymore—but a dense, focused pulse that slammed into Brom's ribs and shoved him a full step back.
Brom's eyes lit up. "There it is!"
He answered with a sweeping kick. Anna didn't block—she flowed. She turned with it, letting the momentum pass, hands tracing an invisible curve as she redirected the force away from her center.
Stone cracked beneath Brom's heel as he landed.
"Again," he said, breathless now.
They moved faster.
Punch, parry, step, pivot.
Anna's control held—tight, deliberate. The pressure around her body shifted constantly, responding to intent instead of panic. Every strike she threw carried weight now. Not wild. Not afraid. Chosen.
Brom crossed his arms to block another blow—
—and still slid back half a pace.
He laughed, low and incredulous. "Stars help me," he muttered. "I'm going to have to stop pretending soon."
Anna flashed him a grin, adrenaline singing in her veins.
"Good," she said.
And lunged.
The crack of impact echoed like thunder.
Fist met fist—and the air between them buckled.
A visible shockwave rolled outward, rattling the banners along the perimeter of the grounds and sending loose pebbles skittering across the stone. Anna slid back half a step, boots grinding, while Brom absorbed the force with a bark of laughter that was equal parts delight and disbelief.
"Oh, that's unfair," he said, eyes bright. "You're learning too fast."
He came at her again—faster this time.
No more slow tests. No more careful spacing.
Brom's restraint frayed under the sheer joy of it.
They traded blows in rapid succession—punch, block, elbow, deflection—each impact sending ripples through the ground beneath them. Anna felt it all now: the timing, the weight, the subtle shifts in Brom's center before he moved. Her power responded smoothly, wrapping her movements in pressure and flow, reinforcing without overwhelming.
She ducked a heavy swing and answered with a rising strike to Brom's chest.
He crossed his arms—
—and still staggered back two full steps.
Brom threw his head back and laughed, wild and unguarded. "That's it! That's the rhythm!"
He surged forward again, this time meeting her blow-for-blow. Fists clashed. Forearms locked. Shockwaves pulsed outward in overlapping rings, the air humming with resonance as teacher and student went toe to toe.
Anna's breath came fast, but she wasn't afraid.
She was in it.
For a moment, Brom forgot the rules. Forgot the limits. Forgot that this was training at all. He grinned like a man sparring an equal for the first time in years, every strike answered, every feint seen.
Then—mid-exchange—his eyes widened.
He planted his feet hard, skidding to a stop, and raised a hand.
"Hold," he said sharply.
Anna froze instantly, pressure settling, stance steady.
Brom stared at her—chest heaving, grin still there, but tempered now by something deeper.
"…I almost didn't stop," he admitted quietly. "That's on me."
Then he shook his head, awe bleeding back in. "Stars above, Anna. You didn't just keep up."
He straightened, breath slowing, voice firm again.
"You pulled me in."
And that, somehow, was the most dangerous thing of all.
Under the flowering arbor, the bench sat exactly where it always had—half in sunlight, half in shade.
Selene occupied her usual place, hands folded neatly in her lap, posture composed despite the tension she never quite let show when Anna trained. Alistar lay sprawled beside her, chin resting on the bench, wings drooping lazily as his tail flicked now and then in contentment. His eyes, however, were sharp—locked on the training grounds, tracking every movement.
Today, she wasn't alone.
Valerius stood just behind the bench at first, arms crossed, cloak stirring faintly in the breeze. He hadn't spoken when he arrived—had simply stopped, watched, and stayed. After a moment, he sat beside Selene, the stone bench creaking faintly under the added weight of an emperor who looked, for once, less like a ruler and more like a father trying not to interfere.
Neither of them spoke.
They watched the shockwaves ripple outward. Watched Brom laugh and nearly lose himself. Watched Anna stop him cold with discipline she hadn't possessed weeks ago.
Alistar lifted his head, a low, pleased rumble vibrating in his chest.
Valerius exhaled slowly. "She's stronger," he said at last. Not pride. Observation.
Selene nodded, eyes never leaving Anna. "Not just stronger," she replied softly. "Steadier."
Another impact cracked across the grounds. The banners snapped. Dust lifted.
Valerius's jaw tightened—then eased. "She's learning when to stop," he murmured. "That matters more than how hard she hits."
Alistar chirped, as if agreeing, and shuffled closer to Selene's side, pressing warm scales against her knee.
Selene reached down without looking, resting her hand gently on his head.
"Yes," she said quietly. "It does."
Together, the three of them watched as Anna lowered her stance, breathing controlled, power contained—no longer something that happened to her, but something she chose.
And for the first time, Valerius did not feel the need to stand.
He simply sat.
Anna broke away from Brom with a breathless laugh, already turning.
"Mom—did you see th—"
She stopped mid-sentence.
Her eyes locked on the bench beneath the arbor.
On Selene.
And on the man sitting beside her.
Anna's breath caught. "Father?"
For a heartbeat she just stared, as if afraid he might vanish if she blinked. Then the realization hit—and she bolted.
Alistar chirped in surprise as Anna sprinted past him, boots pounding the stone. She skidded to a stop in front of the bench, braid half undone, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with excitement.
"You're— you're here," she said, words tumbling over each other. "Why are you here? You never watch my training!"
Valerius blinked once—caught off guard by the sheer force of her joy.
Selene hid a smile behind her hand.
Valerius cleared his throat, schooling his expression back into something composed. "I was… passing through," he said, which was an obvious lie and all of them knew it.
Anna squinted at him.
"…You're terrible at lying."
Alistar let out a pleased trill.
Valerius huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself. "So I've been told."
He looked past her briefly—at Brom still standing in the circle, hands on his hips, watching with unmistakable pride—then back down at his daughter.
"I wanted to see it for myself," Valerius said quietly. "How you're doing."
Anna's eyes widened. "Really?"
He nodded once. "Really."
Her grin was immediate and unstoppable.
Anna rocked on her heels, barely containing herself.
"Well?" she asked, eyes shining. "What did you think?"
Valerius didn't answer right away.
He looked past her again—to the scuffed stone, the hairline cracks radiating from where fists had struck, the way the air itself still felt settled rather than torn. Then he looked back at her. Not at the power. At the control.
"At the fact that you stopped when Brom stepped back," he said slowly. "At the way you breathed before you moved." "At how you redirected instead of forcing."
Anna's smile wavered, just a little, as she listened.
"You didn't lose yourself," Valerius finished. "You chose every step."
Her chest warmed. "So… that's good?"
He reached out, resting a hand on her shoulder—firm, grounding, unmistakably proud.
"That," Valerius said, voice low, "is exactly what I was hoping to see."
For a moment, the emperor vanished entirely.
Anna beamed.
"I knew it!" she said, spinning toward Selene. "I told you I wasn't just flailing anymore!"
Selene laughed softly. Alistar chirped in agreement.
Valerius watched her laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing as he added quietly.
"Keep training like this, Anna. Not to be stronger than the world—but steady enough to stand in it."
She nodded, fierce and determined.
"I will."
Anna's excitement slowed, just a little.
She shifted her weight, fingers fidgeting at her sides as something more hesitant crept into her expression. "Um… Father?"
Valerius looked down at her. "Yes?"
She hesitated, then took a breath. "Does this mean I can… maybe go back to school soon?"
The words came out careful, like she was afraid of pushing too hard.
"I got a letter," she added quickly, reaching into her satchel and half-pulling it out before stopping herself. "From Talia and Elara. They said things are… normal again. And—" She paused, chewing on her lip.
"And some people have been asking about me," she said more softly. "My classmates. My… friends."
She stumbled slightly on the word, glancing away as if embarrassed by it. "I mean—friends is still kind of new for me, but… they asked if I was okay."
Selene's expression softened instantly.
Valerius felt something tighten in his chest—not fear this time, but the quiet weight of realizing how much his daughter's world had grown while he'd been watching it from the edges.
Anna looked back up at him, hopeful but trying not to show it too much. "I don't want to rush," she said quickly. "I know I still have work to do. I just… I miss it. And I don't want them to think I disappeared."
Alistar padded up beside her, pressing against her leg, tail flicking as if adding his own silent vote.
Valerius didn't answer immediately.
He rested his hand on her shoulder again—steady, grounding.
"We'll talk about it," he said at last. "Soon. Not today—but soon."
Anna's shoulders didn't slump.
They lifted.
"…Really?"
He nodded once. "You're earning it."
Her smile this time was quieter—but it stayed.
Selene tilted her head, watching Anna's careful hope with a knowing softness.
"How about this," she said gently. "If you make it through next week's training—properly, safely—and Brom has no complaints…"
Anna's eyes widened.
"Then," Selene continued, "your father and I will sit down with you and talk about returning to the Academy."
Anna inhaled sharply, almost vibrating. "All three of us?"
Selene smiled—then glanced down as Alistar let out a pointed, offended chirr.
She blinked.
"…All four of us," Selene corrected smoothly, resting a hand on the dragon's head. "I wouldn't dare leave him out."
Alistar preened, wings flicking in clear satisfaction.
Valerius huffed a quiet laugh. "Very well. All four."
Anna laughed too, bright and breathless, and nodded fiercely. "I'll do it. I promise."
Brom's voice carried over from the training circle, amused and approving. "I'll be very thorough."
Anna groaned. "Hey!"
Selene's smile lingered as she watched her daughter—hopeful, grounded, no longer afraid to ask.
And this time, the promise felt real.
Anna straightened, drew in a steady breath—and then surprised all of them.
She bowed.
Not clumsy. Not rushed. Clean and deliberate, hands at her sides, back straight. When she rose, her eyes were bright, but her voice was firm.
"I won't let you down," she said with quiet conviction. "Any of you."
Selene's breath caught.
Valerius nodded once, solemn—and proud.
Alistar chirped sharply, as if sealing the promise himself.
Then Anna grinned, the seriousness cracking just enough to let her joy through, and spun on her heel.
"Okay, Brom! Round two!" she called, already jogging back toward the training circle.
Brom laughed, rolling his shoulders as he turned to face her. "You just promised your parents, Princess. Careful—those are the hardest vows to keep."
Anna slid back into her stance, eyes focused, power settling instead of flaring.
"I know," she said, smiling. "That's why I'm training."
She moved again—lighter, steadier, more sure of herself than she had ever been—while behind her, under the flowering arbor, her family watched her grow.
Selene watched Anna move—how she settled into her stance, how her breathing slowed before she struck, how her power answered without violence.
"She reminds me more and more of your mother," Selene said quietly. "Every day."
Valerius didn't respond at first.
His gaze stayed fixed on the training circle—on Anna slipping past Brom's reach, redirecting instead of clashing, choosing patience over force. There was a familiarity to it now. Something old. Something deeply, unmistakably Aeloria.
"She has your strength," Selene continued softly, "but that isn't what I see most anymore. It's the way she listens. The way she waits. Your mother always said power should never rush ahead of wisdom."
Valerius's jaw tightened—not in pain, but memory.
Aeloria, seated in stone gardens long before this one existed. Aeloria, correcting him with a look instead of a word. Aeloria, smiling faintly when he finally understood something he'd been forcing for years.
"…Yes," he said at last.
It was barely above a whisper.
"Yes. I see it too."
Anna pivoted, struck once—clean, controlled—and stepped back without needing to be told. Brom laughed, clapped his hands once, clearly delighted.
Valerius didn't blink.
"She has her restraint," he murmured. "Her way of standing still while the world moves around her."
Selene smiled, eyes shining as she watched their daughter reset her stance, determination steady instead of frantic. "And her stubbornness," she added gently.
That earned the faintest curve of Valerius's mouth.
"Gods help us," he said quietly. "Yes. That too."
Neither of them looked away.
Not as Anna moved. Not as she learned. Not as the echoes of a long-gone empress seemed to walk again—this time lighter-footed, laughing, and very much alive.
Under the flowering arbor, Selene and Valerius sat in quiet stillness, the weight they carried eased, if only for this moment.
No alarms. No shadows pressing in. No futures demanding answers yet.
Just their daughter—alive, learning, growing stronger with every breath.
Selene rested her head lightly against Valerius's shoulder. He did not move away.
They watched Anna train, content to let the world wait.
For now, that was enough.