Page 311 of Elemental Becoming

Late afternoon sunlight streams through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the floor, but the air carries the unmistakable chill of autumn.

The scent of sweat and polished wood hangs in the room. For the first time all day, the noise in my head begins to quiet.

I take a deep breath, letting the air steady me.

Training has become something of an anchor for me. A place where the questions stop multiplying and the future feels a little less overwhelming. Here, there is only movement. Muscle and instinct. Repetition and effort.

The world makes sense when I am training. I never would have believed that when I first arrived at the outpost months ago, exhausted, frightened, and certain I didn’t belong. Now too many days without it leave me restless.

Lyra strides ahead, scanning the room with her usual confidence. Rowena follows behind her, adjusting the sleeves of her tunic as we weave through the occupied sparring mats.

We stop beside an open mat.

“Hello, Rowena. And Amara.”

My stomach sinks before I even turn around.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you since the memorial.”

I recognize the voice immediately.

Ardyn.

I turn toward the weights and find her watching us.

Sunlight catches on her golden hair, woven into a flawless braid that gleams like spun gold. Not a single strand is out of place. A faint smile curves her lips.

Ardyn’s posture is straight and poised, as I imagine it always is. Her form-fitting training tunic, a deep blue that makes hergolden hair seem even brighter, is simple and practical yet somehow tailored to perfection. There isn’t a sheen of sweat on her. No sign of exertion.

Everyone else in the hall looks as though they’ve been training. Ardyn looks as though she stopped by on her way to a royal portrait.

“Hi, Ardyn,” Rowena says, her tone carefully neutral.

She shifts slightly, placing herself just ahead of me. Just enough to make a point. Given Rowena’s history with Ardyn, I doubt the gesture is accidental.

The fact that Rowena is one of the smallest women in the room only makes it more amusing. She barely reaches my shoulder, yet she plants herself there with the confidence of someone twice her size. I imagine people make the mistake of noticing her size first. I doubt they spend much time thinking about it after watching her fight.

Ardyn extends a hand to Lyra, her smile polite but cool. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Ardyn.”

Lyra’s gaze flicks to the offered hand, then back to Ardyn, assessing her with quiet scrutiny. She makes no move to take it, leaving Ardyn’s hand suspended between them.

“Hello, Ardyn,” Lyra says, her tone flat, almost a challenge.

Then she turns away, clearly uninterested in formalities. I suppress the urge to grin and pull my best friend into the fiercest hug imaginable.

“Hmm,” she hums, her head tilting slightly. “It seems manners weren’t a priority in the village you came from.”

Lyra lifts an eyebrow. “Manners are for the deserving. Care to test that, Ardyn?”

For a moment, neither woman looks away.

I catch the faint twitch near Lyra’s right eye and immediately recognize it.

The last time I saw that expression, a boy from our villagethought it would be amusing to steal my mother’s bracelet. It did not end well for him.

I step between them, placing a light hand on Lyra’s arm.

“All right, let’s not turn this into a scene,” I say, my voice calm but firm. I turn to Ardyn with a tight smile. “We’re here to train. Let’s keep it that way, yeah?”