"Good. But again,"
Flare said while she was circling around Lita, her gaze sharpening.
"You must be quicker. Your foes are not going to wait for you to perform your spells."
Lita on her part, again, nodded, and her grip on the sword became tighter, with sweat flowing down her forehead. She intensified and quickened her movements, intertwining sword strikes with brief magical bursts while the energy around them produced the sound of crackling, and Lita's aura, a compound of raw potential and wild power, had flared up.
Madam Valliere, positioned like a hawk on her perch, set her teacup aside and slightly leaned forward. Nothing was unnoticed by her keener-than-a-razor-blade eyes.
Flare, the very embodiment of the disciplined instructor, kept Lita a bit over the edge but even she soon realized the increased strength within the girl—a reservoir of energy that had not yet been tapped and that could be quite a challenge to control.
When Lita again swung her sword very hard, with a small, yet greatly controlled fireball in her palm she again momentarily lost her balance and the fireball went out of control. But Flare acted quickly, with a sharp flick of her hand she neutralized the fire and then retreated.
"You lose your concentration the moment you go over your limit, Lita,"
Flare spoke firmly, but there was a rare hint of concern in her voice.
"Be careful not to go too far. Power without control is just as much a danger to you as it is to your enemies."
Lita's face turned to a frown, she was frustrated and this showed on her face.
"But I have to be stronger. I have to be able to protect myself... and you."
Flare's stare went tender, but still, she kept her replies strict.
"You are getting stronger, but power is not everything. Mastery takes time."
Madam Valliere at that moment stood up from her chair, and her aura instantly controlled the attention of both Lita and Flare. She slowly and deliberately made her way to them, and the iciness in her eyes was slightly melted as she looked at her daughter.
"Flare is right,"
Madam Valliere spoke in her usual, composed voice.
"Strength without control is a weakness. You must learn discipline, Lita. We are not ordinary, and neither is our power. You carry more than just magic or swordsmanship—you carry a legacy."
Lita looked up at her mother, feeling both the weight of her words and the pressure to meet the expectations placed upon her. Her mother's tone was calm, but her gaze was piercing.
"I know you want to protect those you care about,"
Madam Valliere continued, her voice growing colder.
"But protection comes at a cost. You must be willing to pay that price when the time comes."
Lita's expression tightened. She wanted to ask her mother more, to understand what she truly meant, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she nodded and returned to her stance, preparing to continue her training.