I step onto the training field, the crisp morning air tingling against my skin. Brenelor is already there, standing tall and poised, her presence commanding yet warm. Her eyes meet mine, and a smile curves on her lips.

"I suppose I'm more excited to train you than you are to learn, hmm, Alyse?"

A soft laugh escapes me, her humor breaking through the weight of my nerves. "I wouldn't go that far," I reply, my grin matching hers. "But I'll try to keep up."

"Good," she says, her voice teasing but firm. "Because I won't be going easy on you."

Brenelor walks toward the center of the field, her cloak billowing behind her. Her sharp eyes scan me from head to toe, assessing. "First, show me what you can do now. No need to impress me—just be honest with your ability."

I nod, rolling my shoulders to loosen up. Electricity hums faintly beneath my skin, but it's unruly, more a spark than a storm. I hold out my hands, focusing, willing the power to flow. A small crackle of lightning arcs between my fingers, but it fizzles out just as quickly.

Brenelor raises an eyebrow. "Not bad, for a start. But that's just raw potential. You're holding back."

"I'm not trying to hold back," I say, frustration creeping into my tone. "It's just... I can't control it. It feels like it wants to come out, but I can't get it to listen to me."

"That's because you're treating it like a tool," she says, stepping closer. "Your power isn't something separate from you, Alyse. It's part of you. You don't force it—you guide it, let it flow naturally. Try again."

I take a deep breath, planting my feet firmly on the ground. This time, instead of squeezing the power out, I let it rise, imagining it as an extension of myself. The sparks leap to life, dancing across my hands in chaotic patterns.

Brenelor nods approvingly. "Better. Now let's push it further. Focus on shaping it—give it a purpose."

I furrow my brow, concentrating. The lightning builds, coiling in my palms like a living thing. I try to aim it at a practice dummy across the field, but it lashes out wildly, arcing toward the ground.

"Steady!" Brenelor shouts. "Don't let it control you. You control it."

The energy threatens to overwhelm me, but I grit my teeth, reigning it in. I lift my hand, and this time the bolt shoots straight, striking the dummy square in the chest. The wooden target splinters and smokes, leaving a blackened scorch mark.

I exhale, my chest heaving. "Did you see that?" I ask, a mix of disbelief and exhilaration in my voice.

Brenelor chuckles. "I saw. And that's just the beginning. You have more power than you realize, Alyse. But you'll need discipline if you're going to use it without burning yourself—or others—out."

I nod, still catching my breath. "What's next?"

She smiles, a glint of pride in her eyes. "Next, we test your limits."

Brenelor walks over to me, her expression shifting to something sterner. "Lightning is chaotic by nature, Alyse, but it can be harnessed. Shaped. You must learn to focus it, even under pressure. The battlefield doesn't give you time to hesitate."

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of her words. "How do I do that?"

She gestures to a row of targets lined up along the far side of the field—some stationary, others swinging back and forth on ropes. "Precision first. Destroy those targets. All of them. And don't just aim to hit them—choose how you destroy them. A clean cut, a direct strike, or a surge to overwhelm. Your power is versatile, but it's only as effective as your control."

I step forward, nerves buzzing in my chest like static. I extend my hand again, summoning the crackling energy. It feels stronger now, more eager to obey. I focus on the first target, a stationary dummy, and let the lightning surge. A bolt fires off, hitting its center and splitting it in half.

"Good," Brenelor says. "Now, faster. Don't think—feel."

I pivot to the next target, one swinging lazily on a rope. My first bolt misses, sailing past and striking the dirt behind it. I growl in frustration, adjusting my aim. The next one hits, burning through the rope and sending the target tumbling to the ground.

"Better," Brenelor calls. "But you hesitated after the first miss. Out there, hesitation can cost lives. Trust yourself, Alyse."

Her words strike a chord. I steady my breathing and turn to the third target, a dummy that jerks unpredictably on a series of pulleys. This time, I don't overthink it. I let my instincts guide me. The lightning shoots from my hand, arcing like a serpent, and strikes the target cleanly.

A satisfied smile creeps onto Brenelor's face. "Now you're getting it. You're learning to let the power flow through you instead of forcing it. But we're not done yet."

She claps her hands, and the field begins to shift. Mechanisms hidden beneath the ground spring to life, raising moving platforms and releasing automaton-like constructs that resemble armored soldiers.

"What is this?" I ask, taking a step back.

"A battlefield simulation," she says, folding her arms. "You'll be dealing with enemies that move, think, and fight back. Let's see if you can handle the chaos. Remember—precision, control, and instinct. Now, begin."

The first construct lunges toward me, its metallic limbs clanking as it closes the distance. My heart races, but I raise my hand, unleashing a bolt of lightning. It strikes the automaton's chest, but instead of falling, it shudders and keeps coming, its movements more erratic now.

"They're resilient," Brenelor calls. "You'll need more than brute force to take them down!"

I dart to the side as another automaton charges, narrowly avoiding its swing. My mind races, and then I remember her earlier words: Choose how you destroy them.

Focusing on the first automaton, I summon the electricity again, but this time I envision it surging through its joints, disabling its movements. The bolt strikes, and the automaton seizes up, collapsing in a heap of sparks and metal.

"Yes!" Brenelor shouts. "Now the rest!"

The battlefield becomes a blur of motion. I dodge, weave, and fire off bolts of lightning, each one more precise than the last. Some I use to disable, others to obliterate. The air fills with the hum of energy and the metallic screech of the constructs falling apart.

By the time the last automaton collapses, I'm drenched in sweat, my chest heaving. I turn to Brenelor, who stands at the edge of the field with an expression of approval.

"Well done," she says, walking toward me. "You're starting to understand your power. But this is only the beginning, Alyse. Real enemies won't give you the time to breathe—or learn from your mistakes."

I nod, still catching my breath. "Then what's next?"

She smirks. "Next, we teach you how to fight like a Stormcrown. The gods may have gifted you power, but it's your skill that will decide whether you rise... or fall."

Brenelor steps closer, her smirk fading into a more serious expression. "Power alone isn't enough, Alyse. You need strategy, adaptability, and the will to persevere. Let me show you what that truly means."

She raises her hand, and the ground beneath us begins to shift. Storm clouds form above the training field, darkening the skies. A powerful gust of wind kicks up, nearly knocking me off balance.

"What's happening?" I shout over the roar of the wind.

"A test," she replies, her voice cutting through the chaos. "A small piece of your power still resides within me, a power I wish to exert so it might return to you. I want to see how you handle the storm."

The storm intensifies, lightning flashing across the sky and striking the ground around us. Brenelor steps back, her figure illuminated by the flashes, and gestures for me to prepare myself.

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I plant my feet, steadying my stance. The air crackles with electricity, and my body responds instinctively, the energy coursing through me like a second heartbeat.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning shoots toward me from the sky. My instincts scream, and I raise my hand. The lightning strikes my palm, but instead of harming me, it merges with my power. I feel the energy surge through me, amplifying my strength.

"Good!" Brenelor calls. "Now use it! Strike me!"

My eyes widen. "What? I can't—"

"You can," she interrupts, her tone sharp. "And you will. You need to learn to control your power, even against a foe you respect. This is no different."

I hesitate for a moment, but then I take a deep breath and let the power flow. I summon a bolt of lightning and hurl it toward her. She raises her hand, and a barrier of crackling energy forms around her, absorbing the strike effortlessly.

"Again!" she commands.

I summon another bolt, this one stronger, and launch it at her. She sidesteps gracefully, the energy sizzling past her and striking the ground behind.

"Focus, Alyse! Don't let the storm distract you. Harness it!"

The wind howls louder, and rain begins to pour, soaking the field. My hair clings to my face, but I don't let it deter me. I dig deep, pulling from the storm around me. The energy feels different this time—raw, untamed.

I channel it into a single, concentrated strike and release it. The bolt tears through the air, faster and more precise than before. Brenelor raises her barrier again, but this time, the force of my attack pushes her back a step.

Her lips curl into a smile. "Now we're getting somewhere."

Before I can celebrate, she raises her hand, and a bolt of her own lightning streaks toward me. I barely manage to throw up a shield of energy, the impact sending me sliding backward.

"What was that?" I shout, regaining my footing.

"A lesson," she replies. "You're not the only one with power, Alyse. Out there, your enemies won't hesitate to strike. They'll test you, push you, and force you to grow—or die trying. Now fight me!"

The challenge in her voice ignites something within me. I brace myself, summoning every ounce of energy I can muster. The storm around us seems to respond, the winds swirling faster, the rain falling harder.

Brenelor moves first, sending a barrage of smaller lightning strikes my way. I dodge, deflect, and counter, each move more precise than the last. The field becomes a battleground of light and sound, each strike echoing like thunder.

For the first time, I feel the rhythm of the fight. The chaos of the storm doesn't overwhelm me—it fuels me.

With a surge of determination, I launch one final strike, a bolt of lightning infused with everything I have. It hurtles toward Brenelor, crackling with raw power.

She raises her hand, but instead of blocking, she absorbs it, the energy swirling around her like a shield. When the light fades, she lowers her hand, her expression filled with pride.

"Well done, Alyse," she says, her voice steady despite the storm. "You're learning faster than I expected."

I collapse to my knees, exhausted but exhilarated. "That was... intense."

Brenelor steps forward, offering me a hand. "And that was just the beginning. You've proven you can handle the storm, but now you need to master it. Come—there's much more to learn."

I take her hand, pulling myself to my feet. The storm begins to fade, the skies clearing as quickly as they darkened. As I follow her off the field, I can't help but feel a sense of pride.

For the first time, I truly believe in my own strength. And I know this is only the start of what I can become.

We walk into the palace and Brenelor points to my room. "Go get cleaned up, I want you to go into town with me. I think you've earned it"

I smile. "Oh, okay. I'll be out in a moment."

As I step into my room, I close the door behind me and lean against it for a moment, catching my breath. The training left me drained, but the idea of going into town with Brenelor sparks a flicker of excitement. It's rare for her to offer something like this, and I'm eager to see what she has in mind.

I quickly change out of my damp, storm-soaked clothes and into something more fitting for the city. A simple tunic and trousers, comfortable but presentable. As I tie my boots, I can't help but wonder why she's taking me along. Is it a reward, or is this another lesson in disguise?

When I return to the hall, Brenelor is waiting, her posture as regal as ever. She's traded her training robes for a more casual cloak, but even in simpler attire, she radiates authority.

"Ready?" she asks, her eyes scanning me briefly before nodding in approval.

"Yes," I reply, falling into step beside her as we walk toward the palace gates.

The town is alive with the hum of activity as we step onto the cobblestone streets. Merchants call out to passersby, displaying colorful wares from their stalls. The scent of freshly baked bread mingles with the crisp air, and children dart between the crowds, laughing and playing.

I glance at Brenelor, expecting her to lead the way with purpose, but instead, she slows her pace, her eyes softening as she takes in the sights and sounds.

"I don't get out here as often as I'd like," she admits quietly. "It's easy to forget what we're fighting for when you spend too much time behind palace walls."

I nod, trying to imagine what it must be like for her, carrying the weight of an empire on her shoulders.

She leads me to a small market square where musicians play lively tunes, and a group of people has gathered to dance. Brenelor watches them for a moment, a faint smile playing on her lips.

"Do you see them, Alyse?" she asks, gesturing toward the crowd.

"Yes," I say, unsure of what she means.

"They're free," she explains, her voice thoughtful. "Free to laugh, to dance, to live without fear. That freedom—it's fragile. It can be taken away in an instant."

Her words linger in the air, and I feel a sudden heaviness settle over me. "Is that why you fight? To protect their freedom?"

She turns to me, her gaze steady. "Yes. But it's not just their freedom I'm protecting—it's yours, too. And one day, Alyse, you'll have to fight for it as well."

The weight of her words sinks in, but before I can respond, Brenelor's expression shifts, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"But for now, we're not here to dwell on burdens. Come."

She leads me to a nearby stall overflowing with bright, exotic fruits I've never seen before. The vendor, an older woman with a warm smile, greets Brenelor with familiarity.

"Your Majesty," the woman says, bowing slightly.

"None of that," Brenelor replies with a laugh. "Today, I'm just Brenelor."

The woman chuckles and turns to me. "And who's this?"

"Alyse," Brenelor says. "A quick learner and an even quicker study in lightning, as it turns out."

I feel my cheeks flush under the vendor's kind gaze.

"Well, Alyse," the woman says, handing me a strange, star-shaped fruit. "Try this. It's sweet and tangy, just like life should be."

I thank her and take a bite, the flavor bursting on my tongue. Brenelor watches me with amusement before selecting a fruit for herself.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of sights and sounds. Brenelor shows me her favorite spots in the town—a quiet garden tucked behind an old chapel, a bustling blacksmith's forge where sparks fly like fireflies, and a small bakery where we share warm pastries fresh from the oven.

As the sun begins to set, casting a golden glow over the town, we make our way back to the palace. Brenelor walks beside me in silence, her presence steady and reassuring.

When we reach the palace gates, she stops and turns to me. "Today was important, Alyse. Remember what you saw here—the joy, the freedom, the life. That's what you're fighting for. Never lose sight of it."

"I won't," I promise, my voice firm.

She nods, satisfied. "Good. Now, get some rest. Tomorrow, your training continues."

As I head back to my room, I can't help but smile. For the first time, I feel like I truly understand what it means to be strong—not just in power, but in purpose.

-

As I close my eyes, the memories rush in, unbidden and vivid. That night burns itself into my mind, a storm of fear and helplessness.

I see Udis, the madness in his eyes gleaming brighter than the fires engulfing my village. He strode through the gates as though they were paper, his presence twisting the air itself. The screams of my people still echo in my ears—the sound of chaos and despair.

Red had tried so hard to fight him, to protect me. I can still see him, pinned beneath Udis, blood dripping from his split lip, his eyes blazing with defiance even as he struggled against the impossible strength holding him down.

And then Udis turned to me. His gaze pierced through me like a predator sizing up its prey. His grin was unhinged, his voice like the scrape of claws against stone.

Before I could scream, before I could even move, he grabbed me. His claws dug into my arm, and the world twisted around us. The portal opened—a churning vortex of shadows and crimson light.

And then we were in Amerei. That holy place, twisted and sickened by Udis' madness. That cursed throne room where Udis ruled, the Madium Throne, almost tarnished in a way from his corruption. The air was thick with decay, the walls alive with writhing shadows.

I remember the fear, the powerlessness. His words, cryptic and cruel, still haunt me.

"Your brother is strong, but you... you're the key, aren't you? The gods have plans for you, little one. But first, let's see if you can survive mine."

I shudder, gripping the blanket tighter as if it could shield me from the memory.

The experiments. The pain. The way Udis would watch me struggle, his laughter ringing out like a bell of madness. I couldn't fight him, couldn't stop him. For so long, I thought I'd never escape.

But I did. Somehow, Red found me. He faced Udis again, risking everything to bring me back. I'll never forget the look on his face when he freed me—the desperation, the guilt, the love.

But the scars Udis left on me aren't just physical. They're in my mind, in my soul, in the parts of me I don't fully understand yet.

My breathing quickens as the memories overwhelm me, and I force myself to sit up, clutching my knees to my chest.

A knock at the door startles me, pulling me from the spiral of my thoughts.

"Alyse?" Brenelor's voice is soft, almost hesitant.

I quickly wipe at my face, realizing tears have streaked down my cheeks. "Come in," I say, my voice steadier than I feel.

She steps inside, her expression immediately softening as she sees me. "I thought you might be struggling, especially after obtaining your power back."

I manage a weak smile. "How could you tell?"

"You've been through more than most ever will," she says gently, sitting on the edge of my bed. "Memories like that don't fade easily. Nor should they. They're part of who you are now."

"I hate it," I admit, my voice breaking. "I hate how it still has a hold on me. I hate how weak I feel when I think about it."

Brenelor places a hand on my shoulder, her grip firm but comforting. "Alyse, strength isn't about never being afraid or never feeling pain. It's about what you do in spite of it. Every step you take forward is a victory over what he tried to do to you."

I look at her, and for the first time, I see something in her eyes—understanding. She's been through her own battles, her own scars hidden beneath the surface.

"Do you ever stop feeling it?" I ask softly.

"No," she admits. "But it doesn't control me anymore. And it won't control you, either."

Her words settle over me, a balm to my frayed nerves.

"I'll leave you to rest," she says, standing. "But remember this, Alyse: every moment you live, every breath you take, is proof that you've already won."

As she closes the door behind her, I lay back down. Her words echo in my mind, intertwining with the memories. The fear is still there, but so is something else—a flicker of determination.

I close my eyes, letting sleep take me. And for the first time in a long while, the darkness feels just a little less overwhelming.