The academy felt louder after a victory. Voices carried farther, footsteps hit the stone with sharper confidence, and even the breeze sweeping along the cliff edges seemed proud. Group Three moved through the courtyard with the six banners in hand, drawing stares from every direction.
Serene kept her face composed, but inside her ribs ached so deeply she could barely breathe without the pain flickering. Every step jarred the bruises hidden beneath her uniform.
Lira walked close beside her as though ready to catch her if she swayed, though Serene did not give her the chance. Taren strutted ahead proudly, shouting greetings to anyone who'd listen. Alden moved in quiet stride, unreadable as always. Kael stayed at the edge of the group, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.
Rowen walked with the same steady rhythm as ever, but now and then his gaze slid toward Serene — not concerned, not softened, just sharper, as if recalibrating what he thought he knew about her.
Taren was the first to speak. "We actually finished all six banners! Do you know how insane that is? Thane looked like he swallowed a stone!"
Lira giggled nervously. "I thought I would faint at the ridge."
"You didn't," Serene said. "You adjusted your stance."
Lira blinked. "You noticed?"
"You were trembling," Serene said calmly. "But you moved anyway. That matters more."
Lira's cheeks warmed, and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you… Serene."
Alden glanced over. "You led well."
Serene inclined her head. "I stated what was necessary."
Kael snorted. "You ordered us around."
Serene finally turned her eyes to him. "No. You chose to follow because you knew you needed to."
His jaw tightened, but he couldn't argue. Not today.
They reached the heart of the courtyard where Eira and several instructors waited. Cadets slowed their steps instinctively at the sight of the Phoenix Knight Commander.
Eira took the black banner from Serene's hand. "Group Three," she said, loud enough for several surrounding trainees to hear. "You completed the trial. Efficiently."
Kael straightened. Taren almost tripped in excitement. Lira smiled timidly. Alden remained still. Rowen's expression didn't change.
Eira handed Serene the rolled black banner again.
"And you," she added, voice dropping to a tone that felt like steel laid flat on a table, "read the battlefield with accuracy."
Serene bowed her head slightly. "Thank you, Commander."
Eira stepped back. "Dismissed. Rest. Tomorrow will not be lighter."
Tomorrow.
Serene felt the word like a blow.
Her ribs pulsed sharply. Sweat beaded at the back of her neck. The sunlight blurred for half a heartbeat before she forced herself upright again.
The group dispersed across the courtyard as the late afternoon bells rang.
Lira turned toward Serene. "Are you—"
"I'm fine," Serene said.
The lie tasted like iron.
Rowen paused beside her. "Your breathing is uneven."
She kept her gaze ahead. "It will settle."
"You were hit earlier."
"I noticed."
Rowen studied her for a moment too long. "Don't collapse after proving something."
Serene lifted her eyes to his. "I proved nothing. I acted."
Rowen didn't argue. He simply nodded once and walked away.
Kael lingered for a second, staring as if in conflict. "You fight strangely," he muttered.
"Then learn from it," Serene replied.
His eyes flashed, and he turned sharply on his heel and left.
Serene didn't move for a moment. The courtyard spun slightly, but she braced her hand against the railing until the world sharpened again.
Lira moved closer. "Serene… you're hurt."
"I'm managing."
"You don't have to manage alone."
Serene's breath hitched — not from pain, but from something unfamiliar. "I'm Valehart," she said softly. "We learn to be steady."
"Steady doesn't mean silent," Lira whispered back.
Serene didn't have an answer for that.
The two girls walked back toward the dormitory, steps slow, shadows stretching long behind them. The stairs felt endless. Halfway up, Serene's knee buckled for a fraction of a second before she forced it straight.
Lira gasped quietly. "Serene!"
"It's nothing," Serene said, though her voice was thinner than she intended.
"You should see a healer."
"I'll rest. That will be enough."
She wasn't sure it would.
When they reached their hallway, Serene paused at her door, steadying herself on the frame. Lira watched her with worried eyes.
"If you need help," Lira murmured, "ask me."
Serene hesitated — a brief, fragile crack in her composure.
"I will," she said softly.
She wouldn't.
Lira knew that too.
Inside her room, Serene closed the door, leaned against it, and finally allowed the tremor in her arms to surface. The pain that she'd held tightly all day surged in a wave so fierce she pressed her forehead against the wood to breathe through it.
The room felt too quiet.
Too heavy.
She unstrapped her gloves slowly, fingers shaking. The bruises on her ribs throbbed beneath her tunic. She tried to steady her breath, but each inhale stabbed like a blade.
Her sword leaned against the wall, silent, waiting.
She stared at it, jaw tight, eyes sharp despite the pain. That weapon was the only thing in this room that matched her stubbornness.
Her fingers brushed the lily ribbon tied around its hilt.
"Grace is might unseen," she whispered.
Her voice shook.
For the first time since arriving at the academy, Serene sat on the edge of her bed, lowered her head, and let herself break quietly — not in weakness, but in exhaustion.
Then she straightened again.
She always would.