Lily
"The Second Cycle demands space to breathe,
for magic unbound will destroy walls and flesh alike.
Here you will raise the unseen barricades —
wards to turn away curse and claw, even from those you love.
Here you will weave the deeper spells,
the ones that shape the marrow of the world."
My stomach sank. Lots of space. The spellbook made it sound obvious, but my "training grounds" were nothing more than my chamber, barely enough room to stretch my arms without hitting the bookshelf. And then there was Sera.
Sera, with her endless hovering. Sera, who somehow managed to appear whenever the air around me began to hum. Sera, who knocked without waiting for an answer or didn't knock at all.
I could already hear her voice if she caught me mid-casting:
"Lady Lily, what's that glow? Why are you chanting? And why does it smell like burnt cinnamon in here?"
I traced the coded diagrams in the margins, my mind already pulling apart how to adapt them to fold space where there was none, to muffle sound and light so no neighbour (or watchful eyes) would notice.
The book wanted a field; I had a living room.
The book wanted solitude; I had a friend who treated my privacy like the theatre.
Still, my name is Solfrai now.
And Solfrai didn't quit because the battlefield was small.
She just learned to make her walls invisible — even to those standing right beside her.
***
The air was thick with the scent of jasmine as Sera, Maris, and I strolled toward the palace gardens. The sunlight spilled in golden ribbons across the marble path, warming my shoulders, but the atmosphere between us was light and easy until two figures emerged from the King's quarters.
Zeena.
Even from this distance, her presence struck like the sharp note of a gong; loud, commanding, as if the palace itself bowed to her stride. She moved like she was born to rule this place, chin high, every step deliberate. And right behind her, gliding with almost feline grace, was Hira, her shadow and her echo… yet not quite either.
Zeena's gaze found mine, and she hissed. A petty, venom-laced sound meant to sting. I didn't break stride. I didn't even glance long enough to acknowledge her, her power came from attention, and I wasn't about to hand her any.
But then…
Hira leaned in, close enough to brush her words into Zeena's ear.
They should have been swallowed by the distance between us; there were at least fifteen paces of open marble between our groups. Yet her voice slid through the air and coiled into my ear as if she stood beside me.
"They call her Solfrai," she murmured. "But she's just a learner."
I stopped mid-step.
The garden path stretched ahead, but I turned slowly and deliberately, until my eyes locked with hers.
For a moment, the noise of the palace vanished. No footsteps, no rustle of silk, no birdsong from the garden. Just her gaze. Her eyes were not merely dark; they were deep, endless, and in their depths I saw it; faint but there. A flicker of silver fire, almost too quick to catch. Not magic as I knew it. Not witchcraft. Something older, something… other.
I didn't speak.
I didn't need to.
Her lips curved and she looked away, trailing after Zeena as if the exchange had never happened.
I turned back to my path, my steps measured, but my mind was a whirlwind.
Solfrai.
My name in the witching world. My spiritual name. A name I had not uttered aloud, not to Sera or Maris, not even to my grandmother's ghost, who had guided me through every spell. How could she know?
Unless…
Unless she wasn't human.
Who exactly was Hira? What was she doing in the palace, shadowing Zeena like a devoted servant yet carrying a presence that didn't belong in these marble halls? And most of all, what was her mission?
The questions tightened around me like a snare, but one thing was certain.
Whatever Hira was… she had just marked me.