The morning bell didn't chime.
It clanged—a harsh, metallic strike that jolted every trainee awake.
Serene's eyes snapped open.
That was no routine bell.
Lira shot upright in her bed, hair a mess, eyes wide.
"That's the emergency drill signal," Lira whispered.
Serene pushed off the blanket, already reaching for her uniform. Her ribs protested, but she bound them tightly and ignored the dull ache.
The courtyard buzzed with anxious movement as trainees rushed into formation. The air was cold enough to bite, and a grey mist clung to the ground like breath from the cliffs.
Commander Eira stood waiting—armor on, expression unreadable, her hair pinned back sharply. Even the instructors looked tense.
"Form groups of three," Eira commanded.
Trainees scrambled.
Some rushed to friends.
Some hid behind taller teammates.
Some looked lost and terrified.
Serene simply stood and waited.
And Eira watched who ran—and who didn't.
"Valehart," Eira called sharply.
Serene stepped forward.
Rowen Aster was already moving toward her. He didn't speak. Didn't nod. Just positioned himself at her left like it was instinct.
Kael Drakov approached from the right at the same moment, jaw tight, shoulders squared.
Serene's stomach tightened.
Eira had chosen their trio.
A strategist.
A falcon.
A blade.
Together.
This wasn't coincidence.
This was design—Eira's design.
"We will begin the Breakpoint Drill," Eira announced.
"Your team will navigate six stations across the academy grounds. Each station tests a different skill. You succeed as a group. You fail as a group."
A murmur ran through the trainees.
Kael crossed his arms. "What's the catch?"
Eira's lips curved in a cold almost-smile. "You're competing against every other team."
Taren groaned loudly somewhere behind them.
Alden simply exhaled in quiet acceptance.
Eira continued.
"You will begin in the lower yard, run through the obstacle gauntlet, complete the cliff crossing, retrieve the crest flag, defend it, and report back. Fastest team wins."
"And last?" Kael muttered.
"Last team cleans latrines for the next two weeks," Instructor Thane said drily.
Taren yelped in horror.
Serene swallowed.
Rowen stayed perfectly still.
Kael's jaw tightened like he had swallowed fire.
Eira raised a hand.
"Begin."
Chaos exploded.
Teams sprinted toward the lower yard. Mud splashed. Boots thundered. Shouts filled the air as the academy churned into motion.
Serene, Rowen, and Kael broke into a run.
Serene's ribs stabbed with every step, but she kept her pace steady—not fast. Controlled. Kael shot ahead immediately, reckless speed powering him through the crowd. Rowen adjusted to Serene's pace, scanning the field like a hawk.
"Don't slow down on my account," Serene said between breaths.
"I'm not," Rowen replied calmly. "I'm reading the terrain."
Kael barked from ahead, "Move faster if you want to keep up!"
Serene didn't rise to the taunt.
Instead, she used her mind.
"The left side opens sooner," she said quickly. "Fewer teams crowd the low railing. Go around."
Rowen didn't question her. He veered left instantly, trusting her judgment without hesitation.
Kael hesitated—just one second—before following with irritation tightening his shoulders.
They reached the lower yard just as other teams clogged the first climb.
Serene assessed in one glance.
"Right is slower but stable," Rowen said.
"Left is faster," Kael argued, "but the boards are loose."
"Middle," Serene said firmly.
Kael shot her a look. "The middle is blocked."
"Not if we shift the timing," Serene replied. "Teams climb in waves. Move between gaps now."
Rowen moved first.
Kael followed, muttering, "If we fall, I'm blaming you."
"Then don't fall," Serene said.
They slipped between two teams, climbed quickly, and reached the top of the yard ahead of six other groups. Kael glanced back with reluctant surprise.
"Lucky guess," he muttered.
Serene didn't waste breath correcting him.
The obstacle course loomed next—rope nets, mud pits, rotating logs, suspended planks.
Rowen's voice came low. "Don't overextend. Your ribs—"
Serene cut him off. "Don't adjust for my sake."
Kael snapped, "He's right. If you slow us down, say it now."
Serene held Kael's stare.
"I won't slow you."
Kael gritted his teeth. "Then prove it."
They hit the course.
Kael barreled through obstacles with brute force, swinging across pits with momentum that nearly tore his shoulder. Rowen moved with precision, analyzing each section in split seconds, making no wasted motions.
Serene kept behind them—fast enough to stay with them, slow enough to stay aware. The mud pit sucked at her boots. The ropes strained against her palms. The suspended planks sent jolts up her injured side.
Her ribs burned.
Her breath hitched.
But she didn't stop.
Kael glanced back once, surprised she was still with them.
They reached the cliff crossing. The wind screamed past, whipping hair and cloaks. A rope bridge stretched across the drop—narrow, swaying, unstable.
Kael stepped toward it.
"No," Serene said. "Not the bridge."
Kael turned, incredulous. "Then what? Fly?"
Serene pointed to the rocky wall along the side.
"There's a natural ledge. Narrow but stable. Faster."
Rowen followed her gaze. "She's right."
Kael stared between them. "You two are insane."
Rowen shrugged. "Then stay behind."
Kael swore under his breath and followed.
Serene led the path, sliding along the ledge sideways. The drop loomed beneath her. The wind cut her breath short. Her ribs protested violently.
Each step felt like walking a blade edge.
Her fingers brushed stone.
Her boots scraped rock.
Her lungs tightened.
Don't stop.
Kael moved behind her, muttering curses as the wind shoved him back. Rowen moved last—steady, sure, guarding their rear.
Midway, Serene's foot slipped.
Kael froze.
Rowen's hand shot out.
Serene caught herself on the rock before either could touch her.
"I'm fine," she said sharply.
Rowen lowered his hand slowly.
Kael exhaled a curse he didn't finish.
They reached solid ground.
Kael rounded on her. "You could've fallen."
"I didn't," Serene replied, breath tight.
"You almost did."
"That's obvious," Serene said calmly, "because the ledge is narrow."
Kael stared at her, frustrated by how unfazed she sounded.
Rowen turned away, hiding something like grudging respect.
They ran the final stretch toward the flag station. Other teams had arrived too—Taren's team, Alden's group, and at least two others. The flags were scattered across a small field, each guarded by instructors.
Taren yelled across the field, "Kael, Serene, Row—oh no, they're all together, someone save us!"
Kael ignored him.
Rowen scanned the field. "We need one person to retrieve. One to defend. One to distract."
Kael grabbed his blade. "I retrieve."
"No," Serene said immediately.
"You distract."
Kael's head snapped around. "What?"
"You're loud. You draw attention. Use it."
Kael opened his mouth to snap, then paused as the logic hit him.
Rowen nodded. "She's right."
Kael looked between them, frustrated but trapped by reason. "Fine."
Rowen stepped forward. "I'll defend."
Serene tightened her gloves. "I'll retrieve."
Kael stared. "You? With your ribs?"
Serene's gaze sharpened.
"You wanted proof? Watch."
Eira blew the horn.
Chaos erupted.
Kael charged straight into the central field, shouting, drawing every instructor's gaze as intended. Blades clashed around him. He moved like a storm, unpredictable, fast, reckless in a way that forced opponents to react.
Rowen positioned himself at Serene's flank—silent, alert, never turning his back to her, defending the angle she could not cover.
Serene sprinted low, weaving between combatants. Pain stabbed her side, but she pushed through it. She snatched a flag from a distracted instructor just as Kael slammed into him from the front.
"Move!" Kael yelled.
Serene ran.
Rowen's blade intercepted an attack aimed at her shoulder, steel ringing so sharply it vibrated in her ribs. Serene didn't look back—trusting him without thinking.
They escaped the field.
They sprinted toward Eira at the courtyard's edge.
Halfway there, Serene stumbled.
Her breath seized.
Her ribs screamed.
Rowen steadied her without touching, matching her pace.
Kael slowed—just enough to keep them together.
Serene forced her legs to move.
One step.
Then another.
Then another.
She refused to fall.
They crossed the finish line with the flag in Serene's hand.
Eira watched them with unreadable eyes.
"Time?" an instructor asked.
Eira answered calmly, "Second place."
Kael groaned.
Rowen exhaled once.
Serene's knees nearly buckled—but she held.
Eira approached them slowly.
"I expected this trio to fail," she said.
Kael bristled. "Why?"
"Because none of you work well with others."
Silence.
Eira's gaze settled on Serene.
"Valehart. Your body is injured."
"Yes, Commander."
"And yet you led."
Serene steadied her breath.
"I did what I could."
Rowen glanced at her—not softly, not proudly, but sharply, as if reassessing everything.
Kael looked away, jaw tight.
Eira nodded once.
"Next time, do better."
She walked away.
Kael's frustration cracked through him. "Second place—because of teamwork."
Rowen wiped sweat from his brow. "It's an improvement."
Serene nodded, shoulders rising and falling with controlled breaths.
"We won in the ways that mattered."
Kael stared at her—angry, impressed, confused.
Rowen's gaze lingered a moment longer.
Then he said, voice calm and firm:
"This doesn't mean we work well together."
Serene answered with equal sharpness.
"It means we can."
Kael scoffed. "Don't get comfortable. Next time, we beat everyone."
Serene lifted her chin, breath steady.
"Next time," she agreed.
For the first time since the academy began—
they stood not as enemies,
not as allies,
but as something sharper:
Rivals who could fight beside each other
without breaking.