The next morning,Riven walked through the familiar stone path leading to the outskirts of the city, the cold breeze carrying the smell of pine and damp earth. After the chaos of yesterday, the warmth of the orphanage felt grounding… but she knew she had one more person to see.
Her mentor.
The wooden cabin stood exactly where she remembered it—quiet, simple, and surrounded by towering trees. Smoke curled gently from the chimney. Riven lifted her hand to knock, but the door opened before she touched it.
Elara stood there—tall, sharp-eyed, her red hair tied behind her shoulders. Even after years, the retired huntress radiated presence. Her gaze ran over Riven once, and a slow smile tugged at her lips.
"You've grown," Elara said.
"And you look exactly the same," Riven replied with a grin.
Elara stepped aside. "Come in. Tell me about your travels."
Inside, the cabin smelled of tea, old books, and steel. Riven sat across from her mentor and began recounting the last three years—mountain passes filled with monsters, ancient ruins swallowed by forests, strange cities lit with glowing crystals, and duels against sorcerers and hunters alike.
She spoke of new spells mastered, dangers narrowly escaped, and the thrill of pushing her limits.
But Elara already knew what she truly wanted to ask.
"Elara," Riven began carefully, "about yesterday… the attack on the city—"
"Was you." Elara cut in, tone even.
Riven blinked. "I didn't say—"
"You didn't have to." Elara leaned back. "Your magic is distinct. I felt it crack through the sky like a blade. You cannot hide something like that from me."
Riven huffed, then laughed. "Fine. Yes, I was there by coincidence. And yes, I handled it."
Elara raised a brow. "Handled it? You vaporized an entire swarm of beasts and rewound half a district back into existence."
"Okay," Riven admitted, crossing her arms. "Maybe I handled it a little strongly."
Elara stared at her for a long moment. "Your power has grown… unrealistically fast. Too fast."
Riven hesitated, then lifted a hand. A tiny, flickering shape formed above her palm—a dagger of pure black energy, sharp and perfectly shaped. With a thought, it dissolved into sparks.
Elara's eyes widened for the first time in years.
"You can… manifest weapons?"
"Yes," Riven replied softly. "Anything, really. Spears, swords, even shields."
"And the magic you used yesterday—?"
"Copied," Riven said. "From a mage I saw in Astraheim."
Elara stood abruptly. "Show me."
"What?"
"We fight," her mentor said, already walking toward the training field behind the cabin.
"No magic. No abilities. Just blade and body. I need to understand what you've become."
Riven exhaled slowly… then followed.
⸻
The training ground was a simple dirt arena surrounded by trees. Elara drew her sword—a long, curved blade she no longer used for war but kept out of pride.
Riven summoned her own sword—not with magic, but from her back: a simple steel weapon she had carried for years.
Elara's stance was calm and grounded.
Riven 's was sharp, ready, coiled like a spring.
A breeze swept between them.
"Begin."
Elara moved first—fast, almost blindingly. Her blade cut through the air with surgical precision.
CLANG—
Riven blocked, but the force shuddered through her arm. Elara pivoted, slicing low. Riven jumped back, then lunged with a quick thrust—only for Elara to twist aside, catching her blade with the back of her hand and pushing her off balance.
"You're still impatient," Elara said.
"And you're still smug."
Riven pushed forward, their swords clashing in a stream of metallic sparks. She struck high—low—feinted right—spun left. Elara predicted every motion, parrying with minimal movement, conserving energy.
But Riven was faster.
With a burst of speed, she slipped under Elara's guard and struck—only for Elara to trap her blade with her hilt, twisting Riven's wrist.
Riven pivoted, kicked off the ground, and flipped backward, creating distance.
Elara smiled. "Better."
They rushed each other again.
This time, Riven fought without holding back— her strikes carried the weight of dozens of past lives, each movement echoing someone she once was: knights, hunters, mercenaries, warriors.
Elara struggled. Not outwardly—but Riven felt it in the subtle delay of her parries, the tightening in her breath.
RIVEN leaped, descending with a downward slash.
Elara braced her sword—
BOOM—
Their blades collided in a shockwave of dust.
In the end, both swords stopped at each other's throats.
A perfect draw.
They froze.
Then both lowered their weapons, breathing hard.
"…Incredible," Elara whispered. "You've surpassed anything I imagined. You are… terrifying."
Riven grinned, wiping sweat from her brow. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"It is one." Elara sheathed her sword. "But power like yours will draw danger, Riven . You know that."
Riven looked toward the sky, golden eyes sharp and determined.
"I'm not running from it."
Elara studied her. "Then at least allow me to keep teaching you. There is more to strength than force."
Riven nodded. "I know. That's why I'm here."
And for the first time in years, Elara placed a hand on her shoulder—proud, yet deeply uneasy.
Because the girl before her…
Was no longer just a student.
Not just a hunter.
But something vast.
Something rising.
Something the world was not ready for.