Elana winced as Valkyrie unceremoniously dropped her tailbone-first at Antoine’s feet. “Was this really necessary?” she asked, scowling up at Antoine. 

If all Valkyrie had needed to do was bring her to Antoine, Elana strongly preferred that she communicate that. Instead, she’d been slung over the redhead’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes and hauled through the entirety of the estate. 

To her consternation, Antoine’s only response was to reward Valkyrie with a fond pat on the shoulder. “You found her,” he said. “Well done, Valkyrie.”

Valkyrie stood a little taller at his side. Elana glared balefully up at the both of them. “I’m here now, so what do you want?” she asked, making no effort to veil her emotions anymore. It was late. She was hungry. She was tired. Any of those reasons alone would have sufficed, but the truth was somewhere in their intersection—and in that her feelings didn’t particularly matter to them, anyway. 

“The entrance exams are in seven days. I have three to whip you into shape. You’ll have four to recover and regroup,” Antoine said, laying out the agenda.  

It wasn’t until a familiar hand was thrust in front of her face that Elana realized she wasn’t the only Antoine was talking to. It wasn’t just the three of them there. She didn’t need to look to know who she would find. Soren. 

She looked up and he was there, just like he always was, holding his hand out for her to take. How many times in one day was he going to see her at her worst? Elana’s lips thinned. 

“Let me help you up,” he said, as if the only plausible reason she hadn’t taken his hand was because she didn’t know what to do with it. When all she did was stare, he added a quick, “—my lady.”

Her father had stressed so many times that she could—and should—trust him, but she liked the idea no more now than she had the first time she’d heard it. Try, Elana. Elana heaved an aggrieved sigh, taking his hand with more attitude than the situation warranted. 

He pulled her to her feet, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder—one she quickly brushed off. “I’m fine.”

“This is a worse starting point than I expected,” Antoine said, looking at them both with an expression Elana couldn’t read, his lips twisted downwards and eyebrows raised. “I thought to prioritize familiarizing Elana with the spell stones and have Valkyrie help brush up Soren’s training, but…” he trailed off, running a hand through his dark hair. “Alright. Change of plans.”

“This?” Antoine pointed from Elana to Soren, and back again. “This is just sad. And I don’t have the time or patience to bridge whatever is going on here,” he said, gesturing vaguely at them. “So we’re going to do something else instead.”

“Is that really necessary?” Elana asked, rubbing her brow. “I understand he’s meant to be my defender, I just… need some time to settle with the news.”

“Time isn’t a luxury you have,” Antoine said. From the corner of her eye, Elana saw Soren’s shoulders tense. 

“Antoine—” Soren began, but Antoine quieted him with a raised finger.

“Elana, I gave you three spells—Reflect, Stalwart Defense, and Fire. Instead of splitting you up, I’ll be partnering you with Soren on this.” Antoine turned to Valkyrie, gesturing her forward with a nod. “You’ll have to get through one full minute of Valkyrie coming after you, without a scratch. It doesn’t matter how many times you fail. We’ll repeat this drill as many times as it takes.” 

One minute didn’t sound like a long time, in theory. But Valkyrie wasn't Elana's idea of a normal threat. Was it even possible to get through a full minute of something like that without taking damage?

“Antoine!” Soren interjected, successfully this time. “At least give her some time to get changed. She clearly didn’t know what she was getting into. I’m sure she was in the middle of something when Valkyrie dragged her away.”

Elana blinked, looking at Soren. She’d have been impressed with his ability to read the situation... if he wasn't thinking about something as mundane and irrelevant to him as that at a time like this. Even she hadn’t stopped to think about that prospect yet. What was he doing, getting sidetracked by something like her choice of dress?

“If she gets attacked midday at the Academy, do you really think they’re going to give her the luxury of changing out of her dress and heels?” Antoine asked.

“Wait—” Elana blurted, her eyes going wide as they snapped back to Antoine. “You’re talking about doing this now?” 

“Yes, now,” Antoine confirmed. “Wipe that scowl off your face, Soren. Her wardrobe is going to be the least of your problems in a few minutes.”

Her brother turned to activate a magic barrier around the backwoods, just behind them. Elana recognized it as one that was less advanced than the one Marlena used on the training grounds, designed only to reduce damage to the terrain, not to keep spells contained. 

The backwoods were rarely used, frequented only by hunting parties in fox season. It was an unmaintained and overgrown mess of evergreens. Any attempts at clearing trails through it in years past failed, the paths blocked off by fallen trees and forest debris. Her parents had long since abandoned efforts to develop it, leaving it wild and undisturbed.  

“You get a two-minute head start,” he explained, “then I’ll send Valkyrie out. Questions?” Before Elana or Soren could voice any, Antoine cued them. “Time starts now.” 

Elana’s initial instinct was to protest, but Soren gave her no time to do so. 

He snagged her by the arm and took off at a dead sprint, leaving her with no choice but to follow—unless she wanted to be dragged for the second time that day. She followed his lead, stumbling and scrambling to keep up.  

His grip on her arm kept her from falling, but it also forced her to keep pace with him. The lack of hesitation in his strides, his unfaltering gait—this was Soren’s arena, his area of expertise, not Elana’s. Her heels sank into the uneven terrain as they crossed the treeline. There was nothing but gnarled roots, fallen branches, and muddy slop underfoot. It would be a miracle if she didn’t break her ankle trying to keep up with him. 

“Let go!” Elana said, trying to wrest her arm free. “This isn’t working.”

Her attire was doing her no favors. The length and style of her skirt limited her stride-length, and her shoes—even with a heel that was low by most people’s standards—kept getting stuck in the mud, slowing her down. 

Soren glanced back over his shoulder at her, his gaze flitting down to her skirt and shoes, which caught on—what felt like—every obstacle they encountered. His jaw tightened as he turned his gaze back forward, but he didn’t release her arm. 

“Keep going,” he said. “We might have to slow down, but that’s better than stopping.”

They weren’t going to get a significant enough lead with this pace. For this exercise, she was nothing but dead weight. There was a better way to do this. There had to be. 

“Soren!” His grip on her arm tightened, but he didn’t slow down. “Soren!” Her words might as well have fallen on deaf ears.  

Soren barreled through the obstacles in their path, crashing through branches and bramble alike. His larger frame caught the bulk of damage, but Elana narrowly missed getting whipped in the face by the recoil of branches as they went. She couldn’t see two feet in front of her.

“If we keep going and I roll an ankle, we won’t have a choice!” Elana said, putting one arm up to protect her face as he led them through the thick of the backwoods.

“If that happens, I’ll carry you,” he said without looking back. “So keep your eyes on the forest floor and run.”

“We have a better chance of clearing this drill if we split up!” That prompted Soren to look back, staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. Elana huffed. “She can’t chase both of us down—”

Soren laughed. “You clearly don’t know Valkyrie—”

“She’s only human—”

“You say that now. You won’t be in two days.”

“Would you just listen to me?” Bickering about strategy was getting them nowhere. Elana dug her heels in, forcing Soren to slow or risk dragging her. “If we just—”

Something was crashing through the forest after them, the thundering snap of branches and trees coming straight towards them. Elana whipped around in time to see an ancient, gnarled tree come crashing down just behind them. 

Valkyrie’s voice cut through the noise with crystal clarity. “Time’s up.”

Soren cursed under his breath, whipping around, sword in hand. “Go!” He shoved Elana out of the way and she heard steel clashing as she took off. 

Bodies crashed through the bramble after her, right on her heels. 

Elana fumbled for her artifact, barely managing to activate the interface. It sprang to life with an arcane glow, text appearing in thin air above the magic artifact. 

(3) Reflect: protective barrier around the user repels any spell back to original caster, 1x  

(3) Fire: generates a burst of flames, strength of ability varies with caster’s affinity, 1x

(2) Stalwart Defense: physical defense of a chosen target doubles, duration 30s

“Stalwart Defense!” Elana said, but nothing happened. No crackle of magic. No burst of light. “Did it work?” she asked, rapidly tapping the artifact. “Activate—”

Before the glow of the mana interface came back to life, a hand snagged her shoulder. “Caught you,” Valkyrie said, her wolfish grin inches away from Elana’s face. The knight’s hand tightened on her shoulder, followed by the loud crunch of bone. 

Before Elana could so much as cry out, the world went dark.