When Rahn woke up, he noticed Hadassah’s clothes carefully hung by the closet. She must have taken them off sometime during the night, and the sight of them reassured him; at least she had returned safely. The sun had yet to rise, but the sky was turning a deep indigo as the stars slowly faded, just on the edge of dawn. He flexed his wings and forced himself to get ready. Her instructions had been clear, train with Zarek.

  Still, his first instinct was to search for her, to ensure she was safe. He paused as he caught a faint trace of her scent in the air.

  He followed her trail through the courtyards, passing by paths lined with evergreen shrubs and into the deeper, more secluded parts of the estate. Her scent grew harder to recognise the farther he went, mingling with the cool morning air and the scent of bamboo.

  After what felt like too long of searching, Rahn grew impatient. His wings unfurled with a sharp snap, catching the wind as he soared into the sky.

  From above, he could see the neatly arranged courts and gardens, symmetrical and orderly. But farther ahead, nestled beyond the main grounds, he spotted something different; a dense bamboo forest, its tall, slender stalks swaying gently in the breeze. Her scent grew stronger as he flew over the treetops. He knew immediately that she was there, hidden among the greenery.

  He descended swiftly, landing with a quiet thud on the forest floor. The bamboo around him swayed softly, knocking on one another and producing a sort of melody many would adore.

  Hadassah hadn’t slept at all. She was sitting cross-legged on a large, flat stone, her face illuminated by the flickering lantern she had lit for herself. Books and scrolls were scattered around her; she drew runes again and again, her fingers cramping, but she persisted. Drawing a fresh rune, she placed a string of small pink beads that Kaladin had gifted her in the centre of her parchment.

  Her braids were in a larger, messy braid as her eyes focused on the task before her. She took a deep breath, resting her hands on the beads, and she felt it—a sensation deep inside, as if an organ she had never known was now stirring to life.

  A pool of energy, dormant but powerful awakened in her core.

  The book’s instructions were crude and rushed, but she understood enough. Humans, she recalled from the text, were born with the unique ability to defy the laws of the universe, allowing them to make the impossible possible. As long as no fatal mistakes were made, the heavens would turn a blind eye to their efforts.

  In that moment, she would make the impossible possible.

  Electricity surged from her core, rippling through every fibre of her being. It was exhilarating, intoxicating even, and it took all her willpower not to succumb to the overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation coursing through her. Her breathing became laboured and sweat beads formed on her forehead as she kept her eyes fixed on the string of beads. She would not leave this place until she had successfully transformed these beads into artefacts.

  Rahn remained silent, watching her work. She was so deeply engrossed that she hadn’t noticed his arrival. He didn’t dare move forward and disrupt her, so he stood still, watching for as long as he could.

  He found it admirable for someone to want to achieve something this much, yet he didn’t quite understand. There was nothing in this life that he wanted so desperately to forgo sleep.

  The realisation left him feeling strangely empty.

  Why did he have nothing?

  She wasn’t there to push him this morning, so he hadn’t completed his writing scripts. He was already slacking, while she was working tirelessly, determined. Humans were strange creatures.

  Yet he felt envy.

  To have motivation, something like that did not exist to him.

  His mind wandered back to his earliest memories. How many times had Leo tried to embed his being with consciousness? Each time he failed, he faced harsh retribution. Seven times he failed, and each failure brought hell upon him. Creating a Harbinger wasn’t something simple, and yet Leo persisted, just so his daughter would have a protector.

  Rahn didn’t understand why someone would go so far for another. Yet, standing there, watching Hadassah’s relentless effort, something stirred within him.

  He lifted a hand to his chest, feeling the unmistakable thrum of his heart. It was beating wildly, as if he had stirred to life, moved by her determination. And yet, there was nothing extraordinary in front of him—just a girl trying to bend the universe to her will.

  How ridiculous.

  ˋ?-?-?ˊ

  Zarek stood with his arms crossed, a wooden sword at his side, dressed in simple leather armour. His hair was tied back, and his sharp eyes watched the growing crowd. Beside him stood Verena Vortigern, dressed in sleek battle gear, and next to her was her younger brother, Valentino, his own armour carved with family insignias. Both siblings carried themselves with the confidence expected of Lord Vortigern’s bloodline.

  Zarek’s gaze shifted between the faces of the young recruits; their excitement filled the air like pollen in spring. These were no ordinary soldiers; they were hand-picked prodigies, chosen specifically for Kaladin’s elite training. His reputation as a general was legendary, and even Zarek couldn’t help but notice the subtle excitement buzzing through the small crowd. This was the second day, and the recruits seemed ready to fight till their last breaths.

  Verena glanced at her brother and caught him staring at Neveah, who sat calmly under a canopy at the edge of the training grounds. With her legs crossed, a book open on her lap, and a cup of tea in hand, Neveah looked more like a queen at leisure than a warrior ready for battle. Her blue tunic was finely tailored, and her white hair was intricately braided, and her fingers bore rings that sparkled in the sunlight, complimenting her gold nail guards.

  “Give it up,” Verena muttered, rolling her eyes at her brother. “She won’t even notice you exist. The princess of Orlaith doesn’t mix with common rabbits.”

  Valentino scoffed, dragging his gaze away from Neveah and glancing at his sister with disdain. “And Kaladin won’t even look at you, but I suppose we’re all a little delusional, aren’t we?”

  Verena’s cheeks flushed, her eyes darting to Kaladin, who was busy talking to her father’s chief guard. She elbowed Valentino hard in the ribs. “Shut up,” she hissed, praying Kaladin hadn’t heard her brother’s words.

  Zarek paid little attention to their bickering. His mind was elsewhere, specifically on Hadassah. He had glanced back several times, wondering if she’d show up today. Rahn, who stood beside him, was equally restless, his gaze fixed on the entrance, waiting.

  “Is your ‘friend’ not coming today?” Zarek asked Rahn, his tone slightly irritated. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He expected more from her, was she really not going to show up?

  Kaladin finished his conversation and turned back to the group, scanning the faces in the crowd, counting silently. Zarek sighed at Rahn’s silence, momentarily forgetting that Rahn couldn’t speak. He was about to give up when suddenly, Rahn’s body tensed, his head turning backwards. Without a word, Zarek turned to follow his line of sight.

  Hadassah had arrived.

  Her hair was still damp, as if she had just washed it. She wore knee-high boots, fitted leather pants, and a breastplate over a loose blouse. She strode into the training ground with confidence, a smile playing on her lips as she approached the group. Without hesitation, she took her place at the front—an area reserved for those of higher status.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said, looking up at Kaladin. He was standing on a platform, looking down on all of them.

  Kaladin nodded at her arrival, his eyes briefly flicking down to her waist, where a string of pink beads wrapped around her. “I’m glad you decided to join us,” he said, “you missed yesterday’s session.”

  “My apologies, General,” Hadassah replied, her tone formal as she dipped her head in respect.

  Kaladin’s smile widened slightly, but his tone had a stringency Hadassah had yet to encounter. “Apologies mean nothing. You can make up for it by going first today.” His voice boomed across the grounds. “Everyone! Partner up!”

  The recruits quickly split into pairs, finding their partners from the previous day’s session. Rahn wasted no time, moving straight to Hadassah’s side, as if there had never been any doubt who he would choose. Zarek raised a brow, feeling slightly abandoned but not surprised. He turned his head and caught Kaladin’s amused smirk. Before Zarek could grumble, Kaladin’s gaze shifted to Neveah, who gracefully closed her book and stood, walking towards him without once looking at any of them.

  Neveah and Zarek stood side by side, an imposing pair that drew every eye. Their presence alone was enough to make others keep their distance, as if they were untouchable deities.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Zarek gripped the wooden sword tighter, casting a sideways glance at Neveah. “You sure you can handle this? You’ve been out of practice,” he asked, his voice low.

  Neveah smiled, her face like a blooming flower. “If you would like, underestimate me; I welcome such folly.”

  Kaladin clapped his hands, bringing the attention back to the training. “Let’s begin!”

  Hadassah quickly found out that yesterday’s session had only been basic conditioning exercises, though still in pairs. But today, things were different—they would be sparring. Since she was chosen to go first, she and Rahn remained in the centre of the empty court, ready for whatever was to come. Across from them, Neveah and Zarek stood as their opponents.

  To Kaladin, Neveah and Zarek were the control group. No one was expected to defeat them; they were leagues ahead of the rest. But if you could make them break a sweat, that would be considered a monumental achievement.

  The rest of the youths kept clear, Verena watching intently. “I’m glad she came today; I have been curious about these two.”

  Valentino was squatting by her side, his sword resting on his shoulder. “I don’t get it; they don’t seem special; sure, he’s a bird beastman but there is nothing special about them. Aerial combat is easy enough to guard against.”

  “If I need to get on Kaladin’s good side, she is the best option. Special or not, being Kaladin’s student is like walking on ambrosia. Instead of Neveah, why not marry her? It’ll help me out.” She suggested, “and besides, Neveah won’t consider a rabbit.”

  Valentino hummed in contemplation; as much as she could not be considered on the same level as Neveah, she wasn’t bad.

  “I see you decided to show up today,” Zarek said, gripping the wooden sword with ease. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

  Hadassah took her stance. She had no weapon, no real way of defeating him, so she focused on balancing her body, spreading her legs, and crouching low. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for her to start with.

  Zarek raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her silence. He was curious now, wondering what she could possibly offer in this fight.

  Without a word, Hadassah unlocked the mental barrier between her mind and Rahn’s. She had no illusions about beating Zarek, but she didn’t need to win. Rahn would take on Neveah, and she would focus on Zarek. He might be taller, stronger, and faster—a general in the making—but as long as she could anticipate his movements through their bond, she could buy herself enough time to make the loss respectable rather than embarrassing.

  ‘Rahn, do not use your shadows; this is practice for us, we can lose, but I refuse for us to lose humiliated.’ The words that rang in her mind were clear as day, and Rahn nodded; no one else but him could hear her thoughts, and he was willing to follow her orders.

  “Ready?” Kaladin’s voice cut through the barracks, silencing the group immediately. His sharp eyes swept over the sparring pairs, settling momentarily on Hadassah and Rahn before giving a nod of approval. The air grew tense as everyone waited for the signal.

  Zarek raised his wooden sword, eyes locked onto Hadassah, and Kaladin’s hand dropped, signalling the beginning of the match.

  Zarek lunged first. His movements at godspeed. Hadassah sidestepped just in time, her reflexes sharper than usual. Through their bond, Rahn was constantly feeding her information, sensing Zarek’s intentions even before his body moved. Rahn had trained with Zarek for the past two days and was beginning to understand how he moved, when he preferred to strike, what stroke he preferred to use, even if only a little.

  It was enough for now.

  Zarek swung again, aiming for her side, but once more, Hadassah dodged at the last possible second, making onlookers wonder if she was just lucky or if she had anticipated every strike perfectly.

  “You’re quick,” Zarek grunted, his voice tinged with surprise. But Hadassah didn’t reply, keeping her focus on dodging each of his attacks. Her body moved rigidly, ducking and weaving around his strikes.

  Seeing a lapse in attention, she moved. Darting forward, aiming low, and caught him off-guard, landing a swift hit to his shin. He grit his teeth but remained in his position, quickly moving his sword to stab at her location. Anticipating this, she used her hands to twist her body, her left hand screaming in pain as she did that, but she did not care. Her body pivoted, her feet slamming against the wooden sword; her power was not enough to push it away, but it was enough to make Zarek stop before he broke her legs.

  She jumped back, giving herself some space. Zarek burst out laughing, his voice echoing across the barracks. “Not bad! I’m impressed!”

  But his amusement didn’t last long. He gripped his sword tightly and advanced with renewed vigour; his strikes reached a new level, and she found herself barely dodging. His wooden sword nipped her over and over again, the cuts like those of metal.

  Despite the pain she felt, she couldn’t help but admire him. What monstrous ability!

  “I have to admit!” She said, forcing herself to jump back as he lunged forward. “You are simply exceptional!” This must have been what it felt like to fight someone powerful, someone she knew she could not defeat. And yet, deep in her she wanted to get the upper hand, just for a moment.

  Meanwhile, Rahn faced off against Neveah. His claws extended, sharp and ready, and with a gust of his wings, he launched himself forward at a speed that made him nearly invisible to all but one.

  Neveah’s eyes flashed gold, glowing, and she took two hops to her right.

  It didn’t seem significant, but just two steps was enough. It was out of reach, Rahn’s hands just swiping the air she once stood. Before he could stop his momentum, she grabbed his hand. She did not have Zarek’s strength, but somehow her actions redirected Rahn straight to the wall behind them.

  Hadassah did not flinch at the sound of the crash, she could not look back, she could only trust Rahn’s ability.

  ‘Are you alive?’ she asked.

  It took a second for him to reply, and for a second she thought he was dead.

  ‘Sorry.’

  Hearing his reply calmed her quickly. ‘Do not apologise; we have not lost, and right now we are yet to be humiliated.’

  Those were her words, but yet he could feel it; deep in her, she was disappointed at how quickly he was redirected. She could not hide that from him.

  Rahn rose from the rubble and forced himself to focus; the taste of her disappointment was deeply unpleasant. He darted forward with such speed that Kaladin couldn’t help but smile. One only had to blink, and their head would go rolling. He was exceptional, but it was unfortunate his opponent was Neveah. She who could see all.

  Rahn nearly screamed in frustration. No matter how fast he moved, Neveah always dodged effortlessly. He threw punch after punch, slashed strike after strike, but she seemed untouchable, moving like water, her body fluid and light as she danced around his attacks.

  Hadassah, sensing Rahn’s growing frustration, made the decision this needed to stop soon. Neveah was not an appropriate match for Rahn; he was too destabilised; they needed to switch.

  She stopped her assault on Zarek, her focus shifting to Rahn. Zarek noticed her sudden hesitation and frowned.

  “What’s wrong? Giving up already?” he taunted, raising his sword.

  But Hadassah wasn’t paying attention to Zarek any more. Her hand moved to the beads at her waist, fingers tightening around them as she prepared for her next move.

  ‘Rahn!’ She called, as Zarek lunged at her and Rahn started to move. ‘Switch!’

  In the moment before Zarek’s sword could reach her, one of the beads dislodged from Hadassah’s hand. A small explosion erupted, the sound rocketing through the court, startling and disrupting Zarek’s concentration. Dust and smoke filled the air, clouding the barracks and drawing startled gasps from the others watching. Neveah too flinched, her focus momentarily shattered as she tried to adjust to the sudden shift in the air.

  But by the time both Zarek and Neveah got their bearings back, it was too late.

  Two shadows, swift and silent, leaped through the cloud of dust. Zarek tensed, expecting Hadassah’s light frame to emerge from the haze, but instead, a large black claw clashed with his sword, the force of the impact pushing him back snapping his wooden sword in half. His eyes widened in surprise as Rahn loomed before him, fierce and relentless. Rahn’s strength rivalled Zarek’s, forcing the both of them to jump back and stare each other down.

  At the same time, Neveah found herself struggling. As her golden eyes tried to peer into the future, the path ahead suddenly became unclear, a haze clouding her sight. She frowned, her usual grace faltering as she tried to predict Hadassah’s next move. Every time she attempted to discern Hadassah’s intentions, she came up empty, only realising at the last moment where Hadassah would be.

  With each strike, Hadassah’s movements grew more unpredictable. Neveah dodged again and again, but with each second, it became harder to avoid the relentless attacks. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she tried to anticipate the impossible, frustration building as Hadassah kept closing in.

  Zarek, still grappling with Rahn’s overwhelming strength, shot a quick glance towards Neveah. “Neveah, focus!” he barked. But even he could see that she was struggling to regain control over the situation.

  The match had shifted, the advantage now in Hadassah and Rahn’s hands.

  Zarek couldn’t help but smile, his lips curling with amusement, and his eyes held undeniable respect. This wasn’t what he had expected at all. How did they know when to switch? When had she managed to pull out an explosive? Questions buzzed through his mind, but none of them mattered now. A little prank, as impressive as it was, wasn’t enough to win this fight.

  His muscles tensed, and his smile grew more dangerous. “Not bad,” he muttered, his voice low, almost a growl. “But I’m not going to let you win just because you managed to surprise me.”

  ‘That’s not a good idea.’

  Before Hadassah could blink, a figure flew by, slamming into Rahn with brutal force. His body stiffened, and the next instant, unimaginable pain erupted from deep within her. It felt like her insides were being torn apart, and she faltered, unable to move. She bit down on her tongue so hard it bled, desperate not to scream. Her eyes watered, and before she could gather herself, her body was yanked upward by her shoulders, her feet lifting off the ground.

  The pain was all-consuming, her mind spinning, and all she could do was struggle in Zarek’s grip.

  ‘Rahn!’ she called, but no response came from him. The agony intensified, dread crawling through her veins like ice. Her vision blurred as Zarek held her tightly.

  “It seems like I won!” Zarek said proudly, oblivious to her state. But all Hadassah could think of was the crippling pain radiating through her body.

  ‘Rahn!’ she called again, more desperately this time, but nothing. No reaction.

  Terror took over, and she screamed, “Let me go!”

  Zarek flinched, surprised by the intensity in her voice. He released her instantly, and she fell to the floor, collapsing in a heap. She couldn’t stand, couldn’t move. The pain was suffocating, forcing her to clutch her torso and curl up into a tight ball on the ground, her body trembling uncontrollably.

  Kaladin’s gaze flickered towards her briefly, but he maintained his composure as a mentor, his face unreadable. “Next team!” he shouted, moving on as though nothing had happened.

  Zarek, still in shock, stared down at Hadassah, confused and unsure of what had just transpired. He hadn’t even used any real force on her. His hand twitched as he knelt down, reaching out to help her up.

  “Hey, are you alr—”

  “Don’t touch me!” she screamed, her voice packed with venom. Her confidence shattered, and she could barely hold back the tears that threatened to spill. The dust clung to her trembling body, and her glare was filled with hatred.

  Zarek froze, startled by the intensity in her eyes. The depth of her pain was so overwhelming that he instinctively took a step back.

  Guards rushed forward to assist, lifting her from the ground with care as Rahn, unconscious and limp, was carried after her. Hadassah’s face was twisted in anguish as they led her away.

  Zarek stood there, staring at his hands, confusion and guilt gnawing at him. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, yet somehow he had. The evidence was right in front of him

  “Zarek.” Neveah’s cold voice pulled him back to reality. He looked up to meet her icy gaze, mocking him silently for showing guilt over what had happened.

  “Right,” he muttered, pushing the doubt aside as he prepared for the next fight.