“—We will endure. We will adapt. And we will act together. The alliance faces the corruption because those willing to stand forward do so without hesitation—even as the world grows uncertain.”

  The Alliance Leader finished his speech with a round of ordered appuse that rolled through the Arena.

  Uncertain, huh.

  Victoria was in front; Kier stood at my back. The other cadets stood in their own neat lines of three, spread out and evenly spaced across the field.

  The arena itself looked nothing like it had just an hour before.

  All the snow had been packed down or cleared away. The debris was removed, gashes and trenches filled. It was a completely clean ste, with fluttering banners hung all around and a raised stage at its center.

  I copied Victoria’s posture exactly—back straight, chin up, arms behind my back—staring forward like a good little soldier. I shifted my weight and realized my stomach didn’t hurt anymore.

  Thank you Maribelle.

  And my uniform? Perfect. I made damn sure of that by incessantly smoothing it down before we even lined up.

  But knowing it was perfect did nothing to stop the growing urge to fidget, to fix it, to do anything.

  Standing still like this in front of so many people was actual torture.

  The only thing keeping me calm was the gre of my mother.

  She watched me from the lower stands with a ft expression, making sure I could see her. Directly behind the stage. She definitely hadn’t been sitting there during the matches.

  Figures.

  Once I noticed her, I couldn’t not notice everyone else.

  Maribelle, Cedric, the less memorable instructors, and a whole bunch of other officers and cadets, all neatly packed in. And just above them were the families, nobles pretending they weren’t nobles, and commoners, nervous as if they didn’t belong. All facing the same direction.

  All facing us.

  Facing me.

  I focused my gaze back on the figures in the foreground.

  The podium. The Alliance Leader Garreth.

  Garreth looked surprisingly... normal up close.

  Middle-aged. Greying beard. Not especially tall. Unremarkable silhouette. No overwhelming presence. If I passed him in town, I’d probably assume he was an uncle who frequented the local tavern.

  Totally underwhelming.

  The only thing that really stood out was his outfit.

  A white cloak draped over one shoulder, thick bck fur lining the colr and inner edge. Beneath was his uniform. Pale. White coat, white belts, a white waist cape—all contrasted by bck trousers. Bronze traced the entire outfit in elegant patterns and smooth accents, polished to a muted shine.

  Fshy, but still controlled.

  He shifted as a less fshy uniformed woman approached from behind, carrying a staff in her hands.

  He held out his arm.

  The woman pced the staff in his grip, retreating back into the group of commanders. Light caught along the staff’s surface as he raised it, barely above head height.

  It was something between bck and blue. I couldn’t really tell as it seemed to change with every micromovement. Gold capped both ends, and a massive Magic crystal was embedded at the head. A gold ring surrounded it, etched with runes covering the entire circumference, peeking between two gold wings hugging it from either side.

  Garreth smmed the butt of the staff into the ptform.

  A Magic circle fshed, then colpsed at his feet. A wave of sound reverberated, traveling through the arena, much louder than it should have been.

  The bang felt final.

  The entire arena was silenced in an instant.

  Oh.

  Everyone told me he’s the King of Cydos. That he’s a stage eight high archmage on the verge of becoming a grand archmage. I don’t know what I expected. He just looks like an uncle to me. But I get it now, he’s a fshy uncle with weight. He doesn’t have to be loud or dramatic to make the world move around him.

  And I have to give it to him, the uniform is cool too. I’ll wear something like that when I reach the top.

  Garreth stood still with the staff still resting in front of him for a few long seconds, letting the audience simmer in the silence.

  “Today’s results are not a measure of pride,” he said with an amplified voice that carried without effort. “They are a measure of preparedness. Although... some of these young soldiers would vehemently disagree.” He swept his gaze across the lines of cadets, lingering on me for the briefest of moments.

  A murmur of ughter escaped from the crowd.

  “The Apex Bde Summit exists for one purpose—to identify those who can endure pressure, adapt under threat, and act decisively when strength alone is insufficient.” He raised an arm and gestured toward all of us on the field.

  “The cadets you will see called forward did more than simply win matches. They demonstrated exceptional cohesion, discipline, and judgment under various combat conditions that mirror the realities we now face, as well as proved themselves against their own peers.”

  He paused.

  “These young men and women are the future of our Alliance. Remember them.”

  Both of his arms spread out wide in a welcoming motion.

  “We will now proceed with the awards.”

  He turned to the table behind him, where three trophies gleamed under the sunlight. Seemingly done with all his pleasantries.

  “Third pce—Valmor Military Academy. Led by Vernon.”

  Ah! That’s what his name was! I’ll remember it this time. Although he should be thanking me. I kicked those Tidesword guys’ asses and knocked them out of third pce.

  Vernon and his teammates stepped forward and proceeded onto the stage. He looked like he was taking a casual stroll through a park. A rexed and confident stride.

  He walked up, firmly shook Garreth’s hand, and took the trophy with a grin. His teammates followed his lead, and all three held it up, then returned to the field. Forming their line in a new spot in front of the other rows of cadets.

  He winked at me as he passed, immediately snuffing out any sort of respect that was beginning to spark inside my heart after our fight. I nearly stuck my tongue out at him, but then I remembered that Elira was intently watching.

  “Second pce,” Garreth said, after the appuse had settled, “Astaria.”

  The reactions to Astaria were mixed. Some loud appuse in pces, thinner in others.

  Asher stepped forward with his team. His movements were perfect and his expression neutral. His eyes refused to wander, as if he were steady and focused only on what y before him.

  He shook Garreth’s hand. Accepted the trophy.

  Garreth leaned in and murmured something near his ear as their hands were locked. A congratution, perhaps, or a warning. Asher nodded, then turned on his heel. And for just a second—quick enough that I wasn’t sure it even happened—I saw his face twitch.

  Then he turned away. Fixing his fwless hollow mask.

  Asher refused to even acknowledge my existence as he passed. His team took their spot adjacent to Vernon’s.

  Good. I don’t want anything to do with him anyway.

  But seeing him like that, faultless yet vacant—did make a few emotions inside me stir.

  “First pce,” Garreth spoke again, with an intentionally long pause, “Aegis.”

  The polite appuse for the first two teams exploded into a chaotic thrum of approval. The rigid atmosphere of the ceremony broke into pure celebration. People shouted my name. Others shouted Victoria’s. Someone shouted something drunk and incomprehensible.

  Victoria led us forward. Chin high, eyes steady, peerless attitude. When she shook Garreth’s hand, it looked like it was meant to be. A painting ready to be framed, or maybe something you’d see in an old dusty history book.

  Then it was my turn.

  I climbed the steps and shook Garreth’s hand. His grip was soft yet assessing. “Cadet Luna,” he said quietly, for my ears only. His gaze felt like he was surveying my entire being. As if he’d already found a pce on the board to move me to.

  I put on my best innocent, polite smile anyway—the one that usually got me out of trouble. Probably not effective on a king, but worth a shot.

  Kier followed next, smirking like a fool, chest puffed out.

  Garreth handed the decorated trophy to Victoria. “Well done,” he said. “You’ve set a new standard.”

  Victoria took it. “Thank you, sir.”

  We turned to face the crowd.

  Victoria gestured for me to hold the trophy. I obliged. Raising the cold, crystal adorned, golden goblet up above my head, unable to hold back my own stupid grin. It was heavy, and felt right at home between my hands. I bathed in the noise and cheers for a few extra seconds.

  I looked to my left.

  Victoria had already stepped away.

  Then my mind wandered. Nothing else existed. Not even tomorrow.

  Just the weight of the trophy in my hands and the sound of my name being shouted by people who hadn’t even known of me three days ago.

  Hehehehe. This is the best. I’ll have to win again next year, too. Next year... I’ll be the captain. I won’t have Victoria nagging me, and I’ll get to boss other people around. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. I think i’ll mi—

  A tug at my skirt pulled me back. Victoria was signaling our exit off the stage, and the end of my gloating.

  We took our new position, right between Asher and Vernon. Separate from all the rest. Three lines of three. Marked as winners.

  Garreth raised a hand, and the noise turned to silence.

  “We celebrate the victors,” he announced. “But today, we also recognize the future of our command.”

  The same assistant from earlier approached and handed him a scroll of parchment.

  “The following senior cadets have completed their training. By the authority of the Alliance Council, you are hereby commissioned as Second Lieutenants.”

  He read off the names one by one. I watched as almost every other competitor stepped forward and saluted. It only took a few words each to signal the end of their academy lives and the beginning of their years of mandatory servitude.

  He finished off the list and took a breather. Then he spoke again. “Winning Captains. Step forward.”

  Victoria, Vernon, and Asher each took two steps.

  “You have successfully led your peers in the simution of war.” His voice dropped an octave. “Now, you will lead them in the reality of it. By the authority of the Alliance Council, each of you is hereby promoted to First Lieutenant.”

  “First Lieutenant Victoria Velstrad.”

  “First Lieutenant Asher Deylin.”

  “First Lieutenant Vernon.”

  Strange feelings gripped my chest.

  First Lieutenant. That was the line. The one that separated with me and ahead of me. She was already moving on.

  Victoria accepted the rank with pride. Vernon looked pleased. Asher looked... empty. He stared through Garreth, through the crowd; he was fixated on some distant point only he could see.

  “You will now bear responsibility beyond yourselves,” Garreth finally finished. “You are dismissed.”

  The formation broke. Just like that.

  The ceremony dissolved into the chaotic mingling of families and soldiers. Officers moved in, already pulling the newly promoted aside. Parents embraced children. Cadets ughed, cried, boasted.

  Victoria was gone almost immediately, intercepted by a cluster of high-ranking officers. Kier looked at me hesitantly—then was swept away by what seemed to be his mother and father.

  And I was left standing there, trophy in hand. For the first time in days—months, there was nothing for me to do. And nothing I wanted to do.

  I’d won, just like I wanted to, but the people who’d helped me do it were already walking into a future I wasn’t allowed to follow yet.

  A familiar soft hand wrapped around and squeezed my own.

  “Elir-Mama,” I stuttered.

  She smiled warmly. “Come on sweetie. Let’s go get you something to eat and celebrate.”