Those two days flew by. As if the heavens knew they needed a break, the rain stopped and the sun returned. The spring sun brought back the chirping birds and chattering squirrels, lifting the spirits of all the students. Training, planning, and studying filled their waking minutes. Pia didn’t have time to worry about her classmates, and soon the confrontation from earlier in the week slipped her mind entirely. Conch and Pia, with much grumbling and moaning, joined Fewl in the classroom at the ungodliest hour each morning. Pia practiced writing essays, Conch sketched the drawing, and Fewl coached both while they worked.

“No, the next motion is to twist your hand over and pull your fingers to your forehead. You wrote this talisman, Pia, how are you not getting it?” Fewl snapped, frustrated with her mistakes.

“Writing it and transferring it into a rune is much different,” Pia would bite out, trying to stay civil.

She tried twice more to match Fewl’s motions but gave up when she made the same mistake again.

“It’s Conch’s turn,” she said, dropping her hands and picking up her brush once more.

Pia wrote while Fewl scolded Conch on his technique. Her brush scraped across the paper in short, scratchy strokes. Her hands ached from the constant writing. She paused to roll her wrist and stretch her fingers.

The talisman and sketch had been easy. Syncing their movements had been more of a challenge. Despite the three working together often, it had been surprisingly difficult to sync up their movements exactly. Fewl managed to sync with both individually, but when all three tried, Conch or Pia slipped up.

It was the morning of selection day and Pia was taking the last moments before their academic test to prepare. The last two days blurred together, leaving her brain jumbled with information.

Fewl leaned close to her, looking at her work.

“Your brush work is almost legible,” he said with approval. He pointed to a section of her essay and added, “You mentioned the five elements three times here. Don’t forget to include your perspective too.”

Conch leaned close, curious to see her writing. His brows rose in surprise at her almost readable essay.

“Imagine if you’d practiced as hard the last few years. Your handwriting might be prettier than Fewl’s by now.”

“Ha ha,” Pia said, pushing both away. “Just match me in a spar later.”

Both boys grinned and held up their hands.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Conch said, shivering at the thought. Pia might not have a path, but her punches hit with savage ferocity.

The three continued their work as the classroom filled. Today, no one was eager to chat too much. Everyone took their seats to pour over their books one last time. The tests that mattered most to their futures stood before them, a snarling tiger with fangs bared. Only their preparation would save them now. Tension was palpable in the air. Nervous legs bumped into desks, scraping the wood across the floor. Anxious hands tapped brushes against the ink well. Soft muttering filled the air as students read their books aloud, hoping to commit the information to memory.

Before long, Master Ton arrived, bringing a whole new wave of anxiety crashing upon the classroom. With little fanfare, he passed out their papers, and the test began. The classroom was silent, save for the scratching of the brushes, the slide of ink, and the gentle drip-drop of the water timer.

The setting sun cast long shadows over the meadow. Pia sagged tiredly against the rough bark of a tree stump. Her eyes drooped and every muscle in her body felt hammered. The last physical test had taken the last of her energy.

Her stomach felt empty and hollow. When had she eaten last? She couldn’t remember. Pia’s eyes slid around the meadow, seeing others laid out in various resting positions. Quite a lot had already gone down the mountain, she realized. Maybe only a dozen remained in a similar state as her. Exhausted, drained, numbed. The tests had been strenuous. Even Pia’s yi channels felt weak and wobbly from drawing on them so hard.

Her head fell back against the stump, and she looked up at the darkening sky. At least the tests were over now. All the anxiety over studying, memorizing, and impressing the Masters was done. They either succeeded or failed.

As Pia stared up at the sky, she reflected on her matches from the day, each one going well, but one made her lips curl into a smug grin. In her second set of matches, sparring with staffs, she’d gotten matched with Mai.

The memory of Mai’s face flashed in her mind, her barely hidden glee as she stepped into the test circle. Pia couldn’t blame her; just days before, Mai and her friends had easily beaten her. Mai had expected an easy win.

One of the things Pia had always loved about Reflection was that physical training was up to the student and their father. As such, Reflection focused primarily on the academic aspects of training. They had some physical training classes, but students paired up with their friends. Pia had always paired with Fewl or Conch. Most of the students had never sparred with her before. It had helped Pia keep her skills hidden, an edge for the future.

As she’d faced Mai across the test circle, a swirl of bitterness and regret churned within her, but it was her uncontrollable anger that surged to the forefront.

Mai and Mei were rare identical twins and beloved in Dwelling. Blessed with beauty, talent, and a prestigious family, they had every opportunity at their disposal. She’d never held it against them that they were a bit on the arrogant side. Mai and Mei studied and trained hard, in Pia’s eyes, they deserved the right to be cocky.

She regretted that they’d never been friends. Part of her liked Mai and Mei—their confidence and determination had impressed Pia. Perhaps because she lacked that total confidence it made her admire it all the more in others. Maybe in a life where Pia had parents, they could’ve been friends. Their social class differences were too great to allow it in this one.

Yet, her anger had rolled and bucked within her chest, a savage dog biting through her ribs to get at her heart. It wanted to be free, to bite the hand that dared attack her. The injustice of getting beaten over a spoiled girl’s secret dating had been hard to swallow. She recalled the sneer Mai had given her when she’d gotten Mei, Quil, and Yao to attack her.

Pia savored the look on Mai’s face—the false sense of security in her smirk as the fight began. Mai’s family specialized in water yi, Pia quickly realized this when darts of water poured off Mai’s staff, heading straight for her. Though Pia had no family skills, she trained ceaselessly. Spinning her staff, she drew on wind yi and shoved the darts aside, her anger propelling her forward into the fight.

Pia slammed the butt of her staff into the ground, rolled forward, and swung it down toward Mai's head before she could react. She blocked and sent a wave of water blasting toward Pia with the hit. Ducking low, Pia swept the bottom of her staff between Mai's legs and shifted her body to the side, bringing the staff behind Mai's knees. It caught just the edge of her knee and threw her off balance.

It gave Pia a chance to roll away and quickly draw a talisman onto her staff. As soon as she sprang up, Mai was attacking. Balls of water, like floating cups of power, soared at Pia with every move of Mai’s staff. Sweat poured down Pia’s back as she dipped and dove, parrying each with her staff.

Looking for an opening, she realized Mai was strong on offense but weak in defense. Holding her talisman steady, Pia pulled in wind yi, propelling herself slightly faster with each movement. Mai's face flushed as she ramped up her attacks, but Pia saw her moment as Mai faltered.

Moving with too much emotion, Mai swung her staff in a wide arc, leaving her left side exposed. Not wasting the chance, Pia released her hold on the talisman. Wind yi roared forward, knocking Mai’s staff high into the air. Pia let her staff slide through her hands and swung wide and hard.

The wood of her staff smashed into Mai with a resounding thud, sending her flying across the test circle, out into the grass.

Pia’s lips grinned widely as she saw the horrified, furious look on Mai’s face when she realized she’d lost. Pia hadn’t been able to hold back a respectful bow.

Even now Pia’s chest felt warm at the memory. She’d already let her grudge go, but she wasn’t one to pass up an opportunity.

Her attention was brought back to the meadow as other students shifted with moans of complaint. The air was cooling and the drying sweat on their bodies gave a nip of encouragement to move. Aches and pains were likely settling in, and even the yi richness of the mountain couldn’t soothe those.

Still, the yi rich wind invigorated her spirit. The yi on the mountain had a bite to it that felt full of vigor, almost a savage curiosity. It curled around her, rustling her hair, and sweeping over her body. The grass and flowers bent and swayed, releasing a sweet aroma into the air.

Pia lingered, eyes half lidded, until the vestiges of the sun disappeared and the bright, radiance of the stars peaked out from the clouds.

It was only then that she rose and began looking around for Fewl and Conch. There were very few students left and Pia scanned them as she went but didn’t see her friends.