Isadora sat cross-legged on the mat in the center of Adele's room. The orb above them pulsed faintly, its soft light casting shadows that seemed to move with a will of their own. For the past two weeks, Adele had drilled her without mercy—control, focus, restraint, the balance between emotion and thought. Isadora had improved quickly, faster than Adele expected. Levitation had become second nature; projection spells lasted longer; even the exercises in energy shielding no longer left her breathless.
But today felt different. The air in the room was heavy, as though every corner of the house understood something serious was about to happen. Adele, seated across from her, didn't smile. Her usual calmness was wrapped in a layer of warning.
"It's time," Adele finally said. "You've learned enough to attempt the crossing."
Isadora's chest tightened. "Back to Veridion?"
