"That is why I summoned you here. You will, of course, have to practice, just as I instruct you. Sera, look closely."
Helena's voice was sharp, cutting through the heavy atmosphere of the training hall. She raised her hand, palm open, and uttered a single, guttural command.
"Yoramlo."
The air rippled. In an instant, a spear materialized within her gloved grip—a weapon forged of starlight and shadow. Flowing, crimson magical energy coiled around the shaft like a living serpent, while the blade itself pulsed with a rhythmic, ethereal blue light. Helena's posture shifted, her spine straightening into a lethal, poised line.
"Look closely, Sera," she commanded again.
"Werizulé."
The transformation was visceral. Helena's hair bled from its original shade into a vibrant, molten cherry red, pulling itself back into a tight, intricate French braid. Her attire shifted into a sleek, silk black shirt and matching trousers, but the most jarring detail lay against her skin. Where her flesh remained exposed, the texture rippled into impenetrable black snake scales, and her skin tone faded into a ghostly, pallid grey. When her eyes snapped to mine, they burned with a terrifying, luminous red intensity.
Fuck, she's beautiful as hell.
"I know," she replied, her tone flat and entirely unimpressed.
I winced, my breath catching in my throat. "Y-you can read my mind?!" I stammered, my face heating up.
"I can read every snake's mind," she stated, unmoved. "Now, come here."
I stepped forward into the center of the room. At her gesture, a spectral armory manifested—knives, spears, bows, swords, intricate cubes, and delicate fans hung suspended in the air.
"Take what calls to you," she instructed. "Speak the spell 'Yoramlo.' If it glows, it is yours."
I reached for the knives first, feeling a cold, static hum as I whispered, "Yoramlo." Silence. The air didn't even shiver. I tried the sword next, but it remained as dull and lifeless as cold iron. Finally, my fingers brushed the cool, polished wood of a bow.
God, please, I pleaded internally. Please let it be this one.
I whispered the word. For a heartbeat, there was nothing—and then, a brilliant, blinding surge of violet and electric blue erupted from the wood. The energy climbed up my veins, matching the hue of my own inner light. It was mine.
"So, a bow. Good," Helena murmured. "Now, speak the command: 'Amelionzer'."
I drew a shaky breath, grounding myself, and shouted, "Amelionzer!"
Three arrows manifested, wreathed in flickering, amethyst-tipped flames. They hovered in the air, clicking into place against the bowstring as if eager for the kill. I stared, breathless, as the heat hummed against my fingertips.
"The bow represents bravery, power, loyalty, and raw emotion," Helena explained, her eyes tracking the fire. "That flame on the tips? That is your rage, the fire required to cull the monsters that threaten our world."
"But," I asked, glancing down at my own hands, "why didn't my body transform like yours?"
"Because you have not yet earned the change. You know how to wield the bow, but you have no discipline." She didn't give me time to process the slight. "Hold it. Get ready."
She lunged.
The spear became a blur of red light. I barely managed to raise the bow, the three arrows deflecting the spearhead with a high-pitched screech of metal against magic. I darted to the left, my movements fueled by a newfound, frantic instinct. I felt the surge of magic within my core, a boiling, violet pressure—and I fired.
The three arrows merged mid-air into a singular, flaming bolt of pure violet energy. It struck the shaft of Helena's spear with the force of a thunderclap, sending a shockwave of distorted air rippling through the room. Helena stumbled backward, her boots carving deep furrows into the stone floor.
"Wow, oh, shi—!"
She didn't let me finish. She was a hurricane of crimson light, closing the distance in a heartbeat. Her spear lashed out toward my waist, and I threw the bow up as a shield, the wood groaning under the immense pressure. I gasped, panting, legs trembling as I realized the sheer disparity in our power. She was pushing against me with the casual boredom of a morning routine.
Then, she stopped. She pulled back and stood, perfectly still.
"You have fast reflexes," she noted, her voice cold. "But do not let your arrogance blind you. You cannot stand still to admire your own work in the middle of a slaughter. If you stop to look at your skill again, you will die."
"I wasn't standing still—"
"You were," she cut in, her eyes narrowing. "For exactly 0.01 seconds. Without those reflexes, you'd be missing a limb right now."
"Fine," I grumbled, my frustration getting the better of me. "I was appreciating my skills. Tch."
SMACK.
The sting against my forehead made me yelp, clutching my head as she loomed over me.
"Language, princess," she warned, a dangerous, dark smirk playing on her lips. "No attitude in front of me. Understood?"
"O-okay! I understand, I'm sorry!" I cried, rubbing the sore spot.
"Good. Now, listen closely." She stepped back, the red energy around her spear intensifying as she took a defensive stance. "You are almost a 'Dormant Hybrid.' Your senses are sharpened, and your bow is capable of striking targets thirty kilometers away. It is an easy stage to unlock, provided you practice. You have mastered defense; now, show me how you attack. So, you can awaken it fully, I will defend. Begin."
I nodded, gripping the bow. As I arched it toward her, the predator within me finally uncoiled. The flames on the arrows roared to life, turning a deep, predatory violet, and the energy surged through my veins like a wildfire. I wasn't just holding a weapon anymore; I was becoming the storm. And something in me awakened.