Chapter 30
?──── Koen ? ────?
A few days later, when Lioran and Asbel come to check on me, the healer finally allows me to rise, leaning only slightly on Lioran’s shoulder. Asbel stays close, his calm presence steadying me as we shuffle to the training yard.
The palace feels different after the second trial. The stones seem colder and the corridors quieter. Each step reminds me of my sore muscles, aching ribs, and the sting of long, red cuts. The healer was clear that I can’t push myself too much yet.
“Start with light sparing,” she said. “No more than ten minutes at a time. Then rest.”
Torin refuses to work with me until the healer thinks I’m ready for full training again. So, until then, I’m stuck with Lioran and Asbel.
The training begins awkwardly. My sword feels heavier than usual, my movements sluggish from exhaustion. Lioran bounces around, flames flickering at his fingertips, teasing, trying to push me out of rhythm. I stumble, tripping over my own feet, and narrowly avoid a swipe of Lioran’s fire.
“Not bad!” he says cheerfully. “You only almost burned your pants that time.”
I don’t respond. All I can focus on is trying to make my body cooperate with me.
Gritting my teeth, I force my tired arms to move faster, practicing the parries and lunges the healer allows.
The rhythm gradually comes back to me. By the fifth round, sweat and blood mix along my side, but I’m moving with purpose again.
Lioran laughs every time I land a clean strike, while Asbel offers dry, understated praise for small victories.
After an hour, we call it quits. My ribs scream in protest, but I feel the slow warmth of relief. I’m alive and strong enough to fight.
Dinner this evening is a welcome reprieve. We eat in a small dining room near the training yard, the sunlight fading to gold through the tall windows. They canceled the nightly dinners with Queen Zephyra without offering a reason, which only serves to make me worry about Serenya more.
“Well, you survived the day,” Lioran says between bites. “...Barely.”
“And you acted like a firework on a leash,” Asbel adds. “At least Koen didn’t burn everything he touched.”
To my surprise, I smile, the first real smile in days.
I didn’t give Asbell and Lioran a chance before.
I thought it would just be better to distance myself while I was here.
But they have been nothing but helpful since I found them in the trial.
If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have made it back to the portal. I probably wouldn’t even be alive.
After dinner, I’m finally able to return to my chambers for the first time since I woke up after the trial.
My body is giving out on me, and my mind is swirling with half-formed thoughts of the forest fight, the mawless, and, of course, Serenya.
The feeling in my chest is different now.
It isn’t just pain. It is the weight of knowing that even though I survived, I still need to become stronger for what is coming.
I sit on the edge of the bed, letting the candlelight flicker across the room. I allow myself one small indulgence of remembering her smile, the way it felt to hold her in my arms, and the steadiness she carries even in chaos.
Tomorrow I will train again, and the day after that. I will keep pushing myself further. Every step, every strike, every flicker of fire and wind thrown at me will bring me closer to the strength I need to fight and protect.
In the quiet dark, I make a silent vow that nothing will keep me from winning the final trial. Sleep comes quick, but with it comes more dreams of Serenya and more moments that feel like memories but can’t be.
────────────? ? ? ? ?────────────
Golden sunlight greets me as it streams across the field. Serenya’s laugh cuts through the warmth, bright and effortless, like it just belongs here.
She spins in a slow circle, arms raised to the sky, her hair catching the light. She stops, facing me with a smirk.
“See something you like, soldier?” she asks, winking.
My feet move toward her, though it’s not entirely by my will. It’s like someone else is pulling the strings.
Looking around in mock confusion, I say in that voice that’s mine but not, “Uh, no, I don’t think so.”
She gasps and closes the rest of the distance, shoving me playfully. “You’re terrible.”
Laughing, I scoop her up and toss her over my shoulder. Her laughter rings out like music as I run deeper into the field. I set her gently down in a patch of wildflowers, bracing myself above her, hands on either side of her head. I lean in and—
I wake with a start, heart hammering, her voice still echoing in my ears.
Gods, what are these dreams?
I drag a hand down my face. Two weeks have passed since the second trial ended, though it feels like a lifetime. Every night, I dream of her. Every morning, I wake up alone with a throbbing head and an aching heart.
The knock comes almost immediately. “Sun’s up,” Torin’s voice calls through the door. “The nurse has finally cleared you for full training. You’re with me again, and we are not wasting another minute of your time before the final trial.”
I groan, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I dress quickly and make my way to the door. When I open it, Torin is waiting, arms crossed, expression holding a mixture of patience and silent challenge.
“Ready?”
“Always,” I mutter, pulling on my boots and tucking my sword at my side.
The training yard is cool as I draw my blade, and the familiar hum of magic sparks beneath my skin.
Golden lines, like lightning trapped in veins, creep along my arms. I feel the warmth spread, the light vibrating in rhythm with my heartbeat.
I have been working on my magic with Asbel and Lioran over the last week—they’ve been teaching me control.
Torin moves beside me, a calm presence. “Show me what you’ve got. Sword first.”
We clash, the sound of steel ringing across the quiet courtyard. Every strike tests my reflexes, every block reminds me of the control I need over the magic within me. My skin lights again as I summon bursts of magic, flames of sunlight barely restrained from flaring out of control.
A few times, sparks shoot too far, a sharp flare of brightness sending a heatwave across my arms. I flinch back, heart hammering, the fear of losing control still raw in me.
“Careful. Remember, it’s yours, but it can burn you if you let it.”
I nod, swallowing hard. “I won’t. I can control it.”
After another hour, I’m dripping sweat, and my muscles are trembling when he finally lowers his sword.
“You’ve improved,” Torin says. “But keep your focus. One slip, and you could burn everything around you.”
I try to push my next question aside, but it comes out anyway. “When can I see Serenya?”
His expression doesn’t change. “She’s still resting,” he says simply, leaving it at that.
I clench my jaw, swallowing the frustration. Of course . Resting . No matter how many times I ask, the answer never changes. I don’t know why I expected anything different.
We train the whole day, only stopping for lunch. By evening, training concludes, and I stumble to the dining hall on weak legs. Lioran and Asbel are already there. The smell of roasted meat and spiced bread fills the room as I take my seat next to them.
Asbel glances up first. “You survived, then.”
“Barely,” I say, taking a seat beside them.
Lioran lifts his gaze, eyes flicking over me. “I was starting to wonder if Torin decided to finish what the trials started.”
I grunt, reaching for the bread.
Asbel returns to eating. Between bites, he says, “He’s been on edge lately. Torin, I mean.”
That gets my attention. I pause mid-bite.
“He hides it well,” Asbel continues, lowering his voice. “But something is off.”
I say nothing, but my thoughts immediately go to Serenya.
Dimitri had taken her to a healer. He said she’d be fine. But…what if he had taken too long? What if she actually isn’t okay?
My stomach twists, but I push the thought away. No. She has to be fine. I can’t afford to think otherwise. Not now.
If I’m going to survive the final trial—if I’m going to be worth anything at all—I need to get stronger. That’s the only thing I can control.
I force myself to keep eating, though my appetite has abandoned me.
After a while, Lioran leans back, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, if we are done here, we should continue this in my chamber. To celebrate Koen finally being cleared by the nurse, of course. I’ve got a card deck and some of the best fae wine.”
“Dangerous combination,” Asbel mutters.
“Exactly,” Lioran says, grinning at me. “I think it’s time we get to know you better. We can see if your luck at cards matches your charm…or your clumsiness. I hope it's neither.” He pauses, lips pursed. “On second thought, for my sake, I hope it matches both.”
I narrow my eyes, but nod. “Fine.”
The fire in Lioran’s chamber crackles, throwing shadows across the stone walls.
The wine is strong, burning down my throat and settling heavy as I stare at the cards in my hands.
But I can’t focus on the game. My mind is on Serenya—it’s always on her.
It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen her.
Over two weeks since she stepped through my burning magic to save me, and collapsed into my arms afterward.
Over two weeks since I watched Dimitri carry her away from me.
…And it’s been two weeks of asking Torin every day about her, just for him to give me the same answer every time: “She’s resting.”
“Your move, Koen,” Asbel’s calm voice cuts through my thoughts.
I toss a card onto the pile harder than I mean to.
Lioran grins widely . “Where’s your mind, big bro? It certainly isn’t here.”
I scowl. “My mind is on the game.”
“Lies,” Lioran says cheerfully, just as Asbel mutters, “Barely.”
Lioran leans across the table, eyes glittering. “Tell me, Koen…do your thoughts ever stray from the princess?”
“Don’t start.”