Sarn hesitated at the door before finally knocking. A moment ter, it swung open, revealing Kyra’s cool, unreadable gaze.

  “Sarn?” Kyra arched an eyebrow. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Sarn shifted slightly, her fingers curling at her sides. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  Kyra stepped aside, motioning her in. “Not at all. Come in.”

  Sarn entered, gncing around before standing awkwardly near the door. Kyra sat down, watching her expectantly.

  “Sit,” she said. “You don’t look like you came for small talk.”

  Sarn sat stiffly, pressing her hands against her knees. “I’ll get straight to the point. I need your help.”

  Kyra leaned back, arms crossed. “My help? That’s new. What kind of help?”

  Sarn exhaled slowly. “I want you to watch me train. Tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

  For a moment, Kyra said nothing, just studying her. Then, a smirk flickered across her face.

  “Interesting. And here I thought you’d rather die than ask for help.”

  Sarn’s jaw tightened. “I wouldn’t, if I didn’t think it was necessary.”Kyra chuckled, the sound amused but ced with something sharper. “Fair enough. I’ll help you.” She paused. “But—”

  Sarn’s gaze snapped up, wary. “But what?”

  “Nothing’s free,” Kyra said smoothly. “If I ever need a favor, I expect you to return it. Call it bance.”Sarn held her gaze, then gave a slow nod. “…Fine. If that’s what it takes.”

  Kyra pushed herself up from her seat, stretching slightly. “Good. Let’s see if you’re as serious as you look. Just so you know, I won’t go easy on you.”

  “That’s what I need,” Sarn said.

  Kyra’s smirk returned. “Then let’s not waste time.”

  Sarn swung her sword in a sharp arc, fmes flickering along the bde’s edge. Each strike was deliberate, her body moving with controlled precision. Nearby, Kyra stood with her arms crossed, watching every movement.

  “Not bad,” Kyra mused. “Took you long enough to form fire around your sword consistently.”

  Sarn lowered her bde, breathing heavily. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she met Kyra’s gaze.

  “I should’ve figured it out sooner.”

  Kyra smirked. “True. But at least you got there. Some never do.”

  Sarn nodded, not entirely satisfied but acknowledging the progress. She wiped the sweat from her brow, gncing at Kyra.

  “Thanks for watching. I needed the feedback.”

  Kyra waved a hand dismissively. “You’re the one putting in the work. Don’t get sentimental on me.”

  Sarn sheathed her sword and turned to leave. Just before stepping away, she hesitated. “Still… thanks. I mean it.”

  Kyra leaned casually against a nearby wall, her expression unreadable. “Don’t stop now. Keep pushing. I’ll be watching.”

  Sarn gave a small nod before walking off, determination settling deep in her chest.

  She had more to prove. Not just to Kyra. Not just to the others.

  But to herself.

  ---

  Three days passed in a blur of relentless training. Now, as Sarn sat in the spectator stands, her heart pounding, the weight of the semi-finals settled on her. She thought that, whatever the outcome, if time passed quickly and she had her fight, she could at least sit peacefully afterward. The referee called for Ema's name. For some reason, Sarn didn’t know what to make of Ema. Ema hadn’t talked to her until now. For now, she seemed to be the exact opposite of Sarn. She always had a good start. The opponent was also a tough one.

  The arena fell into silence as Ron stepped onto the battleground, his expression calm yet determined. Ema stood opposite him, the air around her charged with quiet confidence. The referee signaled the start, and without hesitation, Ema spread a thick cloud of ash across the arena.