The training ground had grown quiet again, its stones still humming faintly from the aftershock of Keal's blows. The three of them—Silas, Cass, and Velira—sat in a loose circle, breaths slowly evening out. Silas nursed a bruised shoulder. Cass had a rag pressed under his nose. Velira, unscathed, looked at them both with half a smile and half a sigh.
"You two are hopeless," she said, tossing Cass a cold compress from her satchel. "I'm starting to think I should've joined in just to save you the embarrassment."
Cass winced and raised a hand in defeat. "No argument there. That wasn't a fight—that was an execution."
Silas leaned back on his elbows, watching the dim ceiling above. "It wasn't a waste. We learned something."
Velira raised an eyebrow. "That you're both made of paper?"
He laughed, wincing. "That we need more synergy. You and your effigy move like a pair of dancers. Cass and I? We trip over our own feet."
Cass glanced at her. "Velira… how'd you get so smooth in combat?"
Velira blinked, caught off guard. "Oh. I—well, I've been syncing my breathing with my effigy's for weeks. You two just throw it around like a spare limb."
Silas sat up. "You're syncing breath?"
She nodded. "It helps. Especially with water spells. They flow better when you do. I think… I think it's because water doesn't fight. It moves. Redirects."
She stood, brushing dust from her skirt, and stepped into the open ring. Her effigy mirrored her, a soft shimmer pulsing across its form. With a calm breath, Velira extended her hand.
"Watch."
She whispered a phrase—"Cascade Lure."
Her spell activated, forming a twisting current of water that swirled around her effigy's feet and spread across the floor in thin, deliberate streams. The water seemed to listen, curling toward invisible footsteps, responding to her will. A moment later, it coalesced into a spiral and fired a bolt of ice into the center of the ring.
Precise. Graceful.
Cass whistled. "That wasn't novice magic."
Velira shrugged, a bit embarrassed. "I've… been practicing. Alone. Since before the festival."
Silas was quiet. Then: "That's why you didn't join the fight. You've been watching us. Studying."
She turned toward him, lips twitching into a knowing smile. "Someone has to be smart."
He grinned. "Fine. Then teach us."
---
Later, they moved to the edge of the training hall, where mismatched terrain stones had been brought in—jagged cliffs, mud patches, pits with shifting surfaces. Velira paced in front of them, hands on her hips.
"We train wrong," she said. "We go in one-on-one. We test power. That's not how people fight outside the city."
Cass, intrigued, leaned forward. "Then how?"
"Coordination," she said. "Covering blind spots. Setting traps. Keeping one spell held while preparing the next. I've seen combat reports from deeper teams. We need to train like them. Like a unit."
Silas's expression turned thoughtful. "Then we each need to find a role."
Velira pointed at him. "You're our disruption and vision. Cass is our precision and shielding. I'm control and support."
Cass blinked. "That… actually makes sense."
Silas nodded slowly. "I like it."
They spent the next few hours trying new formations. Cass practiced anchoring light flares while Silas used Thread Theft to pull spells mid-cast, timing them to disable imaginary targets. Velira began setting small ice traps and redirecting projectiles with tiny water shields.
Her leadership came naturally. Not barking orders—but guiding. Watching. Adjusting.
And for once, Silas wasn't the one pushing ahead.
When they finally sat again, exhausted and bruised, Silas looked over at her.
"You're… kind of scary when you lead," he said.
Velira smirked. "Don't forget it."
Cass grinned. "So, we train again tomorrow?"
"Same time," Silas agreed.
"Earlier," Velira corrected.
They groaned.
She smiled.
The steps were slow—but they were no longer walking alone.