A new dawn swept across the hidden garden, gilding every leaf with the golden breath of morning. The peaceful chirping of crystal-winged birds echoed over the stream. After nearly a week within the ancient grounds of Iveryn, Nyx and Lira had begun to transform. What had started as stumbling through training had evolved into a rhythm—of growth, hardship, and laughter.
Princess Elysera stood on a balcony above their sleeping quarters, arms crossed as she watched the two girls stretch out beneath the rising sun. "Today, we build your masks," she called out. "Let's see how well you can vanish in plain sight."
Nyx rolled her eyes and elbowed Lira. "I bet you ten petals she makes us wear goat skins or something."
Lira laughed. "Or turn into birds like that illusion yesterday. I'm not squawking again."
Elysera descended, handing each a scroll tied with a lavender ribbon. "Inside is your first disguise mission. You must sneak past three illusions, steal the silver bell, and return without being seen."
"Is this timed?" Nyx asked, unrolling hers.
"Of course," Elysera replied. "And failure means laundry duty for a week."
Lira gasped. "Even your enchanted underwear?"
Elysera raised a brow. "Especially those."
The challenge pushed them through thick willow mazes and crawling through shallow streams, painted like merchants and forest nymphs. Nyx perfected a noblewoman's stride, while Lira mimicked a wandering bard.
When they returned, Nyx rang the silver bell triumphantly. "Boom. No laundry curse for us!"
Elysera clapped once. "Good. Because tomorrow we start climbing the Ironback Ridge."
Later that afternoon, they were scaling vertical cliffs with only roots and runes to hold onto. Lira screamed every five minutes, and Nyx's fingers bled slightly, but neither stopped.
"Focus!" Elysera called from above. "The mountain doesn't care if you cry."
"I think it enjoys it!" Lira shouted back.
Elysera chuckled softly, but her gaze remained sharp. Once both reached the summit, panting and wild-haired, she greeted them with water.
"You both survived. And tomorrow, you'll learn to fall properly."
Nyx flopped on her back. "I'm starting to think you're a little sadistic."
"I was trained by dragons," Elysera said, not entirely joking.
The evening bath had become a ritual. In the moonlit springs, tension melted into laughter.
"This water feels better every time," Lira sighed, scrubbing her arms.
Nyx smirked. "Because your body's finally used to dying daily."
"I swear, I found a new bruise behind my knee."
Elysera waded in slowly, her hair pinned into a twisted braid. "Wounds fade. But the strength you gain will last lifetimes."
Nyx floated on her back, eyes closed. "Deep and poetic. Are you always like this?"
Elysera playfully splashed her. "Only in moonlight."
They washed each other's hair, the process gentle and intimate. Lira laughed when Nyx accidentally poured soap into her ear. Elysera braided their hair anew afterward—Nyx in twin ropes that fell over her shoulders, Lira in a crown braid that sparkled faintly.
"You're both turning into warriors," Elysera whispered, brushing their cheeks. "But never lose this softness. It's your soul."
The next morning brought beast hunting. They journeyed deeper into the garden's enchanted wilds, where feathered direwolves howled from the shadows and crystalline deer darted between trees.
Nyx spotted it first—a dragonling coiled atop a stone altar.
"It's wounded," she whispered.
Lira approached slowly, her moon arrow bow ready. "Should we scare it off?"
"No," Elysera said, kneeling by its side. "We heal. We teach compassion."
Nyx bandaged the beast's wing, Lira fed it glowing berries, and soon the tiny dragonling purred in their laps.
"We'll call him Flare," Nyx grinned.
"That's not very original," Lira teased.
"Says the girl who named her hairbrush Harold."
"Don't mock Harold!"
Elysera laughed, and so did the dragon.
That night, while reading their magic tomes, the glyphs began to whisper.
"Do you hear that?" Nyx asked.
"The books are testing us," Elysera explained. "They reveal knowledge only when you're ready. Try again. Focus your mana."
Nyx's palm glowed faintly as the book opened, revealing a spell of elemental burst. Lira's revealed one of moonlight illusions.
"The rules of Iveryn magic are threefold," Elysera explained. "Flow: never force. Balance: never tip nature. Bound: never breach soul ties."
"I like the sound of soul ties," Nyx said, winking.
Lira snorted. "You'd flirt with a tree if it was tall and mysterious."
"It's the bark, honestly."
Elysera covered her smile. "You're both hopeless."
Toward the tenth day, the trio sat under a starlit dome, the training nearing its end. Elysera wore a silken robe, her hair down, barefoot among wildflowers.
"Do you feel it?" she asked.
"Feel what?" Lira asked, leaning back.
"The shift. You came here as fugitives. Now you are kin. Fighters. Protectors. Iveryn accepts you."
Nyx nodded. "I feel like I've shed my old skin."
"I feel like my muscles are screaming," Lira added.
They laughed again.
Then Elysera turned to Nyx, brushing a hand over her now-natural hair.
"Coffee brown suits you more. It's real."
Nyx smiled gently. "So are you."
And in that moment, among flowers and starlight, three hearts aligned—tied not by blood, but by the bond of transformation.
They were no longer girls running from war. They were the storm rising to meet it.
End of Chapter 6.