Liliana leaned her head against the wall of the room a professor had directed her to after her last victory.

She had won.

Not simply her fights, but the entire tournament. The revelation was still swimming in her head, tinged with a dreamlike quality. She had expected to be more powerful than her peers. Her additional stat points and the levels of her bonds outclassed most. Even other tamers. Few were willing to undertake the risk of taming creatures so far above them in levels.

Few are willing to foolishly risk their lives when they can achieve power in a more sensible fashion. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Emyr whispered in her mind and Liliana batted it aside with a roll of her eyes. No guts, no glory, right?

Still, knowing on paper that she was stronger and having it be shown to her were two different things.

Liliana wasn’t sure how she felt about this not so new information she was being forced to finally acknowledge. So she pushed it aside, to be dealt with later. She focused her mind on the present, on what was expected of her. Something far more annoying, and far less stressful.

Apparently, simply winning the last fight and being sent on her way was not quite enough. She didn’t know why she had hoped for anything less; the Academy was filled with children of nobility and royalty. Something so simple would never fit into their preferences.

She remembered how in the game, the end of the tournament always had a cut scene with the character greeting the headmistress, accepting their victory on a pedestal in the middle of the coliseum while a faceless crowd cheered as the sunset bathed them in hues of gold and crimson. In the game, it had been cool, but in reality, it was just… inconvenient. Embarrassing.

Mostly inconvenient at the moment, as she was forced to peel off her battle wear and ‘clean herself up’.

It wouldn’t do for their champion to be sweaty or disheveled. Wouldn’t do to show her off to the student body wearing her rough leather clothes and the few bits and pieces of armor she had put together from the Academy store. So she’d been instructed to put on her uniform, it was left unsaid that the uniform needed to be in perfect order, but even a toddler could’ve read that subtext.

At the very least, they didn’t expect her to don a gown. Liliana quite liked her dresses, enjoyed how they looked on her. But they were troublesome to put on alone, if not outright impossible. She could be grateful that such formal attire wasn’t required of her today.

She’d be grateful for small mercies, for they seemed to be all she’d get.

Liliana opened her eyes and turned her body so her back leaned against the wall, looking down at herself. Her uniform looked as it always did, perfectly neat. At least her Dexterity meant she rarely had to worry about soiling her clothes through clumsiness. Purposeful sabotage, on the other hand, was always a possibility, and Liliana was a spiteful enough creature to give the idea serious consideration.

She already missed her daggers. She’d feel far less naked with them, and her nerves were still high-strung and taut after so many fights in such a short amount of time. Whether or not they’d been, in the end, easy.

Liliana looked towards the door, scowling. She did not relish the idea of being shown around like a show pony. As if the Academy could claim responsibility for her skills and fighting prowess. As if every skill she had wasn’t the result of her risking her life time and again to gain her power. Hours upon hours of effort, for years, spent strengthening her body and abilities until she couldn’t take a step or breath without pain.

The handle on the door turning jolted her from her thoughts.

Immediately Liliana pushed off of the wall, body falling into a fighting stance. It was too soon for the professors to come to get her. She’d been told she, and the others, would have a reprieve to rest and make themselves presentable before they would announce the first, second and third place students.

Assassins? No, they couldn’t get through the Academy’s protections. Zir’elon coming to attack me in a fit of rage? Liliana’s mind ran through the possibilities as she heard the low murmur of hushed voices through the thick wood of the door. Multiple assailants? A smart decision, Zir’elon would know he couldn’t take her alone.

She’d thought her lesson would stick for a little longer, not forever. Zir’elon was more prideful than he was intelligent, after all, but she thought he’d be cowed for a few days at the very least.

The lock on the door clicked and slowly it inched open. Liliana summoned her naginata to her hand and, without hesitation, struck.

She met golden eyes, widened in surprise, and froze, her weapon lowering from where it had pressed into the throat of the first person to walk through.

“Um.” Alistair coughed, looking at the weapon, then Liliana.

“Well. That’s one way to let me know what you think of me, sis.” Alistair teased. Liliana rolled her eyes as her body relaxed, her naginata disappearing.

“How are…” Liliana leaned slightly to the side to see the others huddled behind Alistair, various guilty or pleased expressions on their faces.

Emyr, in particular, looked rather smug. He’d likely been the one to pick the lock. As far as she knew, he was the only one of their friends with that skill. Marianne was looking around the hallway, clutching to the back of Alistair’s shirt as if nervous they would be caught. Koth’talan looked beleaguered, as if he’d been dragged unwillingly into this endeavor.

“You all here?” Liliana finished as she straightened, backing up to allow the four to slip into the room and shut the door.

“We wanted to see you!” Marianne announced, moving past Alistair and flinging herself at Liliana. Expecting the move, Liliana caught the princess easily, not thrown off balance by the light girl.

“I planned to give you my compliments on your battle after the awards were done, but I was informed my participation was not optional.” Koth’talan explained as he leaned on the wall, oddly enough, in the same place Liliana had taken up moments earlier.

“You enjoyed the show?” Liliana asked, setting her chin on Marianne’s head when the princess gave no indication of releasing her any time soon.

“It was satisfactory.” Koth’talan nodded, the dark glee in his eyes belying his nonchalant words and uncaring tone.

“Satisfactory? It was the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life!” Marianne huffed, sending Koth’talan a glare at his less than enthusiastic words before turning to Liliana with eyes full of stars and admiration. She was looking at Liliana as if she’d hung the moon, and presented her with the keys to every kingdom and empire in their world. Liliana would privately admit that she was not entirely upset at the warm feeling the admiration birthed in her chest.

“It was a more than a bit terrifying,” Alistair added in, shuddering in an exaggerated manner before he grinned. “Good job, Lili.”

“He’d annoyed me. I was just getting my frustrations out.” Liliana shrugged, internally preening at the praise.

A part of her had worried that her friends would shy away from her after seeing what she was truly capable of when pushed. That they would fear her. Liliana had never wanted fear from her friends. It was reassuring to know that no matter what parts of herself she showed, her friends would remain at her side.

Perhaps because, unlike the caricatures of these people she’d come to love that she’d seen in the game, they each had more than a bit of their own darkness inside of them, too.

“If that’s what you look like annoyed, I don’t want to know what you look like angry,” Alistair muttered, reaching out to ruffle Liliana’s hair.

“I do. I think it would be glorious.” Marianne pulled away, a wicked grin on her face. Liliana wondered if the queen had any idea what kind of monster she had raised.

Thinking about her experiences with the queen, Liliana decided that the queen was likely well aware. If not directly responsible for Marianne’s more ruthless side.

“It would be terrifying,” Emyr decided, but his tone implied that he would enjoy seeing it just as much, if not more, than Marianne. Sometimes Liliana had to wonder how three people fated to be heroes could be so… bloodthirsty.

Perhaps fate doesn’t know very much at all, she thought. A little rebelliously, a little spitefully.

“Well, after that fight, I doubt Zir’elon will be a problem for us any longer.” Alistair stepped forward to hug Liliana next, crushing her into him as her spine cracked and strained under the hold.

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“Hard to believe the girl I saw out there is the same girl who was getting berated by Silas for dropping her weapon what feels like just yesterday,” Alistair told her, and Liliana snorted.

“He still berates me when we spar, just for different reasons now. If he had been here, he’d probably have a list of a hundred things I did wrong during the fights ready for me,” Liliana groaned, tone thick with affection.

Silas had always been hard on her, on all of them, when they trained. But she knew it came from a place of love. He was training them for battle, for situations where the smallest mistake could kill them. He was hard on them because he didn’t want them to die.

A wave of homesickness filled her.

She wished she could see Silas today, wished he had been here to see her fights. Even if he’d critique her every move. He’d end his analysis of her failings with a small smile and gruff word telling her how proud he was of her. And Liliana really wanted to hear how proud he was of her, of her growth.

He had seen her grow from the weak, lost girl who barely knew what the right end of her weapon was, who stumbled and fell but always got back up, into the young woman who had dominated every fight she’d stepped into today.

She wanted him to see how far she had come, and to know that it was because of him. Because of his training, his faith in her. He had never tried to dissuade her from learning to fight, nor mocked her for her failures. He’d always been there for her, supporting her, training her. Picking her back up when she didn’t think she could stand again, and telling her to fight, dammit, fight Liliana.

Even if some days she’d hated him, when her body was covered in bruises and she could hardly move her muscles for the pain. She was everything she was today, the fighter she was, because of Silas. And her victory felt ever so slightly hollow because he couldn’t see the fruits of his labor.

“I doubt Zir’elon will even be able to look at Lili for a while. She traumatized him.” Marianne crossed her arms, a proud smile on her face as Alistair and Liliana broke from their hug.

“I did not.” Liliana rolled her eyes at the dramatization. “I didn’t even break any of his bones. He’ll be fine,” Liliana asserted when she got looks of disbelief.

“Lili… I’m pretty sure he’s going to have nightmares about this fight for weeks.” Alistair said slowly, as Liliana blinked owlishly at him, fighting down a satisfied smile at the thought.

In her opinion, Liliana had gone easy on Zir’elon, if only because of the shields preventing true harm from befalling any student. She’d have much preferred to carve her lesson into his skin so deep it the scars would never fade. So phantom pain would flare anytime he so much as looked in her direction or considered going against her or her friends.

She had satisfied herself with simply embarrassing him as much as possible in front of all his peers, but she hadn’t thought it would truly traumatize him.

If it did? Well, Liliana wouldn’t lose sleep over it.

“He will be licking the wounds to his pride for some time, at the very least. My… brother,” Koth’talan spat the word out as if the very taste of it sickened him, “has not been dealt such a decisive loss in some time. Not since we were small. He is not used to being so thoroughly outclassed, and then made a fool of in such a public manner,” Koth’talan finished, voice thick with satisfaction as his cool mask finally broke. Liliana thought he was probably replaying the fight in his head.

“I aim to please, your highness,” Liliana drawled, smirking, when Koth’talan glared at her with a fierce scowl.

“So was my defense of your honor enough to earn a confirmation of our friendship?” Liliana pressed, smile widening when Koth’talan’s glare grew more intense.

With a sigh that spoke volumes of how much this was all a very great ordeal for the prince Koth’talan closed his eyes.

“Fine. We share a relationship that can be construed in a way that implies a closeness akin to that of friendship.” Koth’talan said the words as if he was being forced at knifepoint to utter them, after hours of a long, grueling torture.

“Translation?” Alistair asked in the silence that followed, head tilting as he tried to decipher the words.

“He admitted Lili and he are friends.” Emyr supplied with a smug smirk. Alistair’s eyes widened in understanding, and he nodded his thanks to Emyr.

“Ah, the true reward for the tournament, getting you to admit we’re friends,” Liliana crowed, a silly smile on her face as warmth filled her.

She had known she and Koth’talan were friends, to some degree. He spent too much time around her and her group, voluntarily, to be anything else. But to have him admit to it, when it was obvious, to her at least, that he did not willingly get close to many at all, it made it feel special.

“Maybe the real victory is the friends we made along the way,” Marianne said sagely, a hand on her chin as she nodded. The room went quiet again as everyone stared at the princess in bemused disbelief.

“No. Pretty sure it was getting to watch Zir’elon get utterly destroyed.” Emyr broke the silence.

“That was my favorite part too, made it worth losing,” Alistair agreed, raising a hand in solidarity.

“That was the part that I found the most pleasure in witnessing as well,” Koth’talan added in and Marianne pouted.

“We almost had a moment straight from a book, and you three had to ruin it,” Marianne huffed, crossing her arms and kicking a foot against the ground.

Liliana covered her mouth with a hand to stop herself from giggling or, worse, cooing at Marianne. She looked adorable. Like a toddler being told they couldn’t have a toy they wanted. Liliana had to take several deep breaths to control herself, and she clenched her hand into a fist to resist the urge to reach out and pinch Marianne’s cheeks. She’d probably get bitten if she did.

“I’d consider getting to embarrass Zir’elon the victory too,” Liliana threw in just to see Marianne’s pout deepen as she looked at Liliana as if she’d stabbed her in the back.

“You too Lili? Even my very best friend has betrayed me in my moment of greatest need?” Marianne demanded and Liliana lost the battle for control, laughter spilling from her lips as Marianne whined.

A knock on the door silenced the entire room. Wide-eyed, panicked looks were traded as they all realized a professor had come to retrieve Liliana, and there was nowhere for the rest to hide, or escape.

“Shit, get to the back,” Liliana hissed, pointing behind her as she moved to the door.

The others scrambled to squeeze into the back of the room, crouching low to avoid notice. Alistair tried his best to squeeze his bulk down. Koth’talan looked physically pained at being forced into close quarters with the others as they all squished together. When Liliana estimated they were as out of sight as was possible in the small room, she carefully opened the door, keeping her body in the way.

“I have come to escort you,” Vereign greeted her, as brusque as ever.

“Alright, I’ll just…” Liliana moved to step out and Vereign sighed, looking over her head for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

“Tell your friends they need to return to their seats as well,” Vereign informed her, and Liliana’s eyes widened, opening her mouth to deny the very accurate accusation.

“Don’t. I’ve been teaching teenagers for too long to not expect this.” Vereign cut her off and Liliana sighed, pushing the door open to reveal her friends, huddled on the floor in a pile in the back of the room.

“Oh! Hello there, Professor Vereign. What a surprise to see you here.” Marianne popped up, dusting off her clothes.

“Seats. Now.” Vereign barked and the other four scurried out of the room past Liliana and Vereign as if they were being chased by rabid beasts.

Marianne threw a smile at Liliana that withered under Vereign’s glare. Emyr gave her a thumbs up, ducking his head to avoid Vereign’s gaze. Alistair squeezed her shoulder as he passed, shrinking under their homeroom teacher’s eyes. Koth’talan was the only one to not show a reaction, but he hurried all the same, giving Liliana a nod as he passed her.

“Sorry, sir.” Liliana muttered as her friends disappeared.

“Teenagers.” Vereign’s voice held years of exhaustion packed into a single word as he closed his eyes again and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes, for a moment, Liliana almost thought she saw a flash of amusement, but it was gone so quickly she was certain she imagined it.

“Follow me.” Vereign ordered, and Liliana fell in behind her professor as he walked through the tunnels under the coliseum.

He said nothing more to her as they walked, and Liliana could feel a niggling thread of nervousness working through her. It was one thing to face the entire population of the Academy when she was fighting. It was another to face them with no weapon in her hand, none of her bonds at her side. She felt almost naked, vulnerable.

“Wait here. You will be called out.” Vereign informed her as they stopped by the entrance to the arena.

Liliana looked out at the sands under the late afternoon sun. She could hear the cacophony of close to a thousand students and teachers in the stands. She looked back towards Vereign, only to see he had vanished.

She was alone again.

Liliana took a deep breath as Headmistress Wraithe appeared in a plume of fire in the middle of the coliseum. Whatever words Wraithe said escaped Liliana. She assumed it was some grand speech about the prowess of the first years. Something simultaneously encouraging and threatening, as most of Wraithe’s speeches were.

Liliana wondered, would this ever get easier? Would the wait feel less suffocating over time? Would her heart stop pounding as if it was trying to escape her chest, would her stomach cease tangling itself in knots if she was to experience this a second time? A third? A fourth?

Liliana closed her eyes, taking another deep breath. She waited for her name to be called. It felt like years passed as Wraithe spoke. Time faded and stretched. A year, two, three, slipping through her fingers like the grains of sand in an hourglass. Speeding past were flickers of memories of laughter, smiles, and sleepless nights surrounded by books. New friends and connections made, others straining and drifting as time marched on, unstoppable in its journey.

It never did get easier.

“I am proud to announce our victor for the first fourth year tournament of the year. Over the past three and a half years, this young lady has won every tournament she has been in. This is her seventh victory, an unprecedented record in the Academy. Our victor of today’s tournament, Liliana Rosengarde.” Wraithe’s voice crashed into Liliana.

Liliana’s back straightened as she forced her nerves under a well-practiced mask.

Three and a half years of this, and she still felt as nervous as the very first time she’d stood here. Six times she’d been presented before the Academy, regaled as the best and brightest of her year. And yet still, her heart pounded, her stomach twisted.

If anything, it got worse, as she felt the weight of all the eyes on her. Full of expectations, of jealousy, of admiration. She had gone from someone utterly unknown in the Academy to the most recognized student as a result of her six, now seven, consecutive victories.

Perhaps her eighth victory would be less harrowing an experience. Liliana could only hope. At least, in six months’ time, she would be done with the Academy, and free of the constant feeling of eyes on her.

Liliana opened her eyes and stepped onto the sands to accept her seventh victory.