Chapter 39 - Embers
Nico woke up before sunrise.
The academy halls were still quiet, the usual murmur of students not yet filling the air. She should've tried to go back to sleep, but something in her chest buzzed with restless energy—something she couldn't shake.
So she got up.
The training grounds were empty at this hour, the sky a soft shade of blue-grey as dawn threatened to break. The cold bit at her skin, but she welcomed it. She tightened her grip around the wooden sword she had borrowed from the rack and took her stance.
Exhale. Focus.
She moved through the drills, each strike sharper than the last. Faster. Harder. The whispers, the looks, the suffocating weight of everything—she buried them beneath the rhythm of her sword.
She wasn't some fragile thing they could talk about.
She wasn't a shadow of Phyro's past.
She wasn't weak.
The crack of wood against wood rang through the training grounds as she delivered a final, forceful blow to the practice dummy.
"That's more like it."
Nico turned, heart still racing.
Serra Vaile stood at the edge of the grounds, arms crossed, watching her.
"You're up early," the instructor noted.
Nico wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. "Couldn't sleep."
Serra tilted her head slightly, her sharp gaze unreadable. "You fight better when you're angry."
Nico's grip tightened around the wooden sword. She wasn't sure if that was a compliment or a warning.
Serra stepped forward. "Emotion fuels strength, but it also blinds you. A fight isn't just about force—it's about control."
Nico exhaled through her nose. "I am in control."
Serra raised an eyebrow. "Are you?"
A flick of her wrist, and in the next instant, Nico's wooden sword was knocked clean from her hands. She barely had time to react before Serra had another strike aimed at her side. Nico twisted out of the way, just barely avoiding the blow.
Too slow.
She clenched her teeth. Without thinking, she lunged forward, aiming to knock Serra's weapon away—
Only to find herself on the ground a second later, the breath knocked from her lungs.
Serra sighed, stepping back. "You fight like someone with something to prove."
Nico pushed herself up, swallowing her frustration. "Maybe I do."
The instructor studied her for a moment before shaking her head. "Come back when you're ready to fight for yourself instead of everyone else's opinion."
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Nico sitting in the dirt.
Later that day, she found herself walking with Jude.
She wasn't sure when it started, but he always seemed to appear at her side—whether she wanted him there or not.
"What's with the face?" he asked, biting into an apple.
"What face?"
"The I'm brooding and full of unresolved issues face."
Nico rolled her eyes. "Shut up."
Jude grinned. "At least you're talking. That's progress."
She didn't respond, but something about his presence made her chest feel a little lighter.
They reached the edge of the academy courtyard when a voice rang out—
"Hey, Nishiki!"
Nico stopped.
A group of students stood near the stone steps. She recognized them—same ones who whispered before.
One of them, a boy with smug eyes and too much confidence, smirked. "You training hard so you don't snap like your brother?"
Jude tensed beside her. "Okay, let's not do this."
Nico, however, didn't move.
She met the boy's gaze, steady and cold. "Say that again."
His smirk faltered, just a little.
"I—I mean, it's just what everyone's saying," he scoffed, crossing his arms. "You're the one walking around all moody and aggressive. Just saying, it's kinda suspicious."
A sharp heat flared in her chest. The same heat that had fueled her attacks that morning, that had made her hands tremble in rage—
But then she remembered Serra's words.
Emotion fuels strength. But it also blinds you.
Nico exhaled, steadying herself.
Then, instead of snapping, she simply tilted her head. "You talk a lot for someone who's never even touched a sword."
The boy stiffened. "What?"
She took a step closer. "Let me guess. You've never fought a real match, have you? You just stand around and let other people do the work while you run your mouth."
He sputtered. "That's not—"
"Wanna spar?" she asked, voice calm, almost too casual. "Or would you rather keep talking?"
Silence.
The boy's confidence wavered. His friends glanced at each other, waiting for him to respond.
Jude snorted. "Yeah, that's what I thought."
With a muttered curse, the boy turned and walked away, his group following quickly behind.
Nico let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Jude gave her a look. "You handled that way too well."
She shrugged. "Maybe I'm learning."
He grinned. "Phyro would be so proud."
She rolled her eyes, but this time—this time, she actually smiled.
Maybe, just maybe, she was learning.
And maybe she didn't have to fight every battle with her sword.
Not every battle was about strength.
Some were about control.
And today?
She had won.
End of Chapter