Morning came too soon after the previous night's celebrations. Adrian woke in the competitor lodgings with head slightly heavy from wine consumed at the royal dinner—not drunk, but enough to feel it. The tournament was over. The ceremonies complete. And yet something felt unfinished.
He found out what at breakfast when a notice had been posted in the common area: ALL SQUIRES REPORT TO MAIN COURTYARD AT TENTH BELL. ATTENDANCE MANDATORY.
"Wonder what this is about," Finn said, reading over Adrian's shoulder. "Tournament's over. What else could they want?"
"Results," Edric suggested, joining them. "Final standings, formal dismissal, that sort of thing."
"We already know the results," Adrian pointed out. "I won. Everyone else knows where they placed."
"Then maybe academy assignments?" Finn theorized. "Letting us know where we'll train?"
None of them knew. So they went.
The main courtyard was massive—large enough to hold all remaining squires with room to spare. Adrian estimated perhaps three hundred young warriors gathered, all wearing their house or family colors, all carrying the bearing of those who'd survived a year of trials even if they'd been eliminated early in the tournament.
The six academy leaders stood on a raised platform, their academy banners flying behind them. Headmaster Theron of Dawnspire. Headmistress Kara of Ironfang. Master Valen of Stormwatch. Mistress Elara of Ashbourne. Lord Cassius of Silverkeep. And Commander Brynn of Stonewall.
The crowd quieted as Master Valen stepped forward. Stormwatch's leader—oldest of the six, most experienced, voice carrying authority earned through decades of training warriors.
"Squires of Arathor," his voice rolled across the courtyard. "You have completed your trials."
A ripple of tension ran through the gathered young warriors. This was it. Whatever came next would determine their futures.
"One year ago, you arrived at these grounds. Some of you came from noble houses with every advantage. Others came from common birth with nothing but determination. All of you were given the same opportunity—to prove yourselves worthy of becoming knights of this kingdom."
Valen paused, his gaze sweeping the crowd.
"You have trained under our observation. Studied tactics, history, combat technique. You have forged bonds with fellow squires, learned what it means to stand beside those who might save your life or whose life you might save. And four days ago, you demonstrated your capabilities in tournament that tested not just skill but character, honor, and the courage to fight honestly."
The courtyard was absolutely silent.
"But what you may not have known," Valen continued, and there was something almost like satisfaction in his tone, "is that your trials began the moment you set foot in this kingdom for evaluation. Not when training formally started. Not when lectures commenced. The very first day."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Adrian exchanged glances with Finn, both processing the implication.
"Every action you have taken this past year has been observed," Headmistress Kara of Ironfang stepped forward, her voice clear and precise. "When you were on academy grounds, instructors watched. How you treated fellow squires. Whether you helped those struggling or mocked their weaknesses. How you responded to criticism, to failure, to success."
"And when you were not on academy grounds," Headmaster Theron of Dawnspire added, "Stormwatch scouts observed. What you did when you thought no one important was watching. How you conducted yourselves in the capital, in taverns, in markets. Whether you abused your status as squires or carried yourselves with honor."
The crowd's murmur grew louder. Adrian thought back across the year—casual interactions, moments he'd thought private, conversations held in taverns or on streets. All observed. All recorded.
"This may seem invasive," Mistress Elara of Ashbourne said, her tone measured and calm. "But understand—we are not training warriors to fight in tournaments alone. We train those who will defend this kingdom, who will be given authority over others, who will carry responsibility for lives beyond their own. Character matters as much as capability."
"Your performance in training has been graded," Lord Cassius of Silverkeep continued, his aristocratic bearing evident even in address to gathered squires. "Your understanding of tactical lectures assessed. Your tournament displays evaluated for technique, honor, and strategic thinking. And your observed behavior when you thought yourselves unwatched has been carefully documented."
"All of this," Commander Brynn of Stonewall added, her voice carrying military precision, "every factor from this entire year, will be reviewed by the six academies. Each academy will make their own determinations about which squires they wish to accept for formal knighthood training."
Master Valen stepped forward again, commanding attention.
"Within the next fortnight, you will receive correspondence. A letter bearing academy seal, delivered to whatever address you provided when first registering for trials. That letter will inform you whether you have been accepted for training."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"Some of you will receive multiple offers—academies competing for talented squires they wish to train. Some will receive one. And some..." His expression was stern but not unkind. "Some will receive none."
The courtyard was absolutely silent now. The weight of judgment hung heavy over every young warrior gathered.
"If you receive no offers," Valen continued, "understand that this does not mean you are without worth or capability. It means that at this time, the academies do not believe you are ready for the demands of knighthood training. You may reapply in future years. You may pursue other honorable paths. But your journey toward knighthood ends here."
"If you receive offers," Headmistress Kara added, "you will have one week from receipt to respond. To accept one academy's invitation and commit to your chosen path."
"However," Lord Cassius interjected, "understand that formal training does not begin immediately upon acceptance. Once you accept an academy's offer, you will have two months before you are required to report. Two months to settle your affairs, to train independently, to prepare yourself mentally and physically for the demands ahead."
"Use that time wisely," Commander Brynn advised. "Those two months are yours to spend as you see fit. Rest. Train. Seek additional experience. Visit family. Whatever you believe will best prepare you for the rigorous years of knighthood training that follow."
"But when those two months conclude," Master Valen's voice hardened, "you will report to your chosen academy on the designated date. Failure to appear means forfeiting your position. No exceptions. No delays."
"The academies are proud of those who will be accepted," Headmaster Theron said. "You have demonstrated the capability and character we seek. You will become knights who serve Arathor with honor."
"But make no mistake," Valen's voice hardened further. "We are displeased with those who will not be chosen. You were given opportunity. Resources. A full year to prove yourselves. If you failed to do so, that failure rests on your shoulders alone."
The harsh words landed like physical blows on some in the crowd. Adrian saw shoulders slump, faces fall, the weight of potential rejection settling before decisions were even made.
"However," Mistress Elara said more gently, "remember that this is one path, not the only path. Those not chosen for knighthood training have still learned valuable skills. Have still proven themselves capable warriors. There are other ways to serve the kingdom with honor."
Master Valen raised his hand for final attention.
"You are dismissed. Return to your homes, your families, your lives. Await word from the academies. And know that regardless of outcome, you have all demonstrated courage by even attempting these trials."
He paused one final time.
"Will you continue your journey to become knights? Or does your journey end here? That answer will arrive within the fortnight. Until then—dismissed."
The crowd began dispersing slowly, quietly. The usual chatter and energy of gathered squires was muted by weight of uncertainty. Adrian stood with Finn and Edric, all three processing what they'd heard.
"They watched everything," Edric said quietly. "The entire year. Every moment."
"Makes sense," Finn replied with his characteristic analysis. "They're not just evaluating combat capability. They're assessing character. Can't do that from tournament performance alone."
"Still feels invasive," Edric muttered.
"It's practical," Finn countered. "Would you want someone trained as knight who's excellent in tournament but cruel when unwatched? Or who abuses authority when given power?"
"No, but—"
"Then observation makes sense. Uncomfortable, yes. But logical."
Adrian barely heard them. He was thinking about the past year. His actions observed and recorded. The demon ambush—had scouts watched that? His developing relationship with Alice—documented by Stormwatch observers? Every casual conversation, every decision made when he thought no one important was paying attention?
All of it evaluated. All of it factoring into decisions that would arrive in two weeks.
"You're worried," Finn observed, reading Adrian's expression.
"Aren't you?"
"A little. But logically, tournament champion who demonstrated unprecedented power control, saved a princess from demons, and consistently acted with honor when observed? You'll receive offers. Probably from all six academies."
"You think so?"
"I'm certain. The question isn't whether you'll be accepted—it's which academy you'll choose."
"What about you?" Adrian asked. "You manifested yellow. Showed genuine tactical brilliance. Dawnspire will want you."
"Maybe," Finn allowed. "But yellow manifestation doesn't guarantee acceptance. They'll evaluate everything—including whether I demonstrated the character Dawnspire values."
"You did. You helped everyone. Never mocked failures. Shared knowledge freely."
"We'll see."
Around them, other squires were having similar conversations. Some confident in their acceptance. Others terrified of rejection. All facing two weeks of uncertainty before learning their fates.
Alice appeared through the crowd, having clearly just received the same information. She found Adrian immediately, her expression showing the same processing he felt.
"They watched everything," she said quietly.
"So we just heard."
"Every moment when I thought I could just be myself rather than princess. All observed. All recorded. All evaluated."
"Does that change anything?" Adrian asked. "Would you have acted differently if you'd known?"
Alice considered honestly. "No. I'd still have helped others. Still have fought demons. Still have..." she paused, glanced at Finn and Edric who were politely pretending not to listen, "...made the same choices about who to trust and care for."
"Then the observation doesn't matter. They saw you being yourself. If that's acceptable to academies, you'll receive offers. If not, then you wouldn't have fit anyway."
"Practical wisdom from tournament champion," Alice said with slight smile. "Though easy to say when you're guaranteed acceptance."
"Not guaranteed—"
"Adrian. You won the tournament. Demonstrated crimson flame mastery. Saved my life fighting demons. The academies would be insane not to accept you."
"She's right," Edric added, giving up the pretense of not listening. "You're about as guaranteed acceptance as possible. Rest of us are the ones who should worry."
"You made it to tournament," Adrian pointed out. "Lost honorably on day one to strong opponent. That's respectable."
"Respectable isn't exceptional. And academies want exceptional."
Finn shook his head. "They want capable warriors with good character. You demonstrated both. Stop catastrophizing before results even arrive."
"Easy for you to say, yellow-flame bearer."
"Yellow doesn't guarantee anything either."
They stood together as the courtyard continued emptying. Squires departing to pack belongings, to make arrangements for journey home, to begin two weeks of waiting for letters that would determine their futures.
"When do you leave?" Alice asked Adrian.
"Tomorrow morning, probably. Need to pack, say proper goodbyes, arrange travel back to Northwatch." He paused. "You?"
"That's actually what I wanted to discuss." Alice's expression shifted to something more serious, more determined. "I want to come with you. To Northwatch."
Adrian blinked. "What?"
"Mira and I both." Alice glanced toward where her guardian stood nearby, clearly having already discussed this. "We want to train at the border. Real combat experience, not just tournament matches or training exercises."
"Alice—"
"Fighting you made me realize something," she continued before he could object. "Both in the demon ambush and in the tournament. I'm technically skilled, yes. I have violet flame, access to best instruction. But I lack actual combat experience. Real fights where mistakes cost lives, not just tournament points."
"Same for me," Mira added, approaching. "Guardian tradition emphasizes protection and defense. But yesterday, facing your crimson in tournament, I recognized gaps in my capabilities. Theory versus reality. Training versus genuine threat."
"And Northwatch provides that reality," Alice said. "Demons. Regular incursions. The kind of experience we can't get anywhere else. Where better to train than the place that's been defending the kingdom's border for generations?"
Adrian processed this, his mind immediately going to all the reasons this was dangerous. "Alice, Northwatch isn't a training ground. It's not safe, controlled environment. We face demons almost every day. Real threats. People die."
"I know."
"Training there means fighting things that want to kill you. Not spar with you. Not test your capabilities. Actually kill you."
"I survived the demon ambush," Alice pointed out. "Fought creatures that were trying to kill me then. This isn't that different."
"It absolutely is different. That was one ambush. Northwatch is constant. Relentless. The mental strain alone—watching for threats every moment, knowing attack could come any time. It requires capabilities you haven't developed yet."
"Then help me develop them." Alice's blue eyes met his directly. "You've been doing this since you were ten. You know how to survive at the border. Teach me. Teach us."
"Alice—"
"Adrian, I'm not asking for easy path. I'm asking for real training that will actually prepare me for knighthood. Tournament matches don't do that. Palace instruction doesn't do that. But months at Northwatch, fighting beside your family, learning from actual border warriors?" She paused. "That might."
"It's dangerous," Adrian insisted. "More dangerous than you're imagining."
"Then I'll have you there to help." Alice's tone carried warmth despite the serious subject. "You kept me alive during the demon ambush. You can keep teaching me how to survive."
Adrian looked at Mira. "And you want this too?"
"I do," the guardian confirmed. "My duty is protecting Alice. Best way to do that is ensuring we're both prepared for threats we might actually face. Northwatch provides that preparation."
"Your father approved this?" Adrian asked Alice, grasping for rational objections. "The king is fine with his daughter training at one of the most dangerous borders in the kingdom?"
"He was against it initially," Alice admitted. "Very against it. But I convinced him that real experience matters more than safe training. That I need to understand what defending the kingdom actually means, not just theory about it."
"He eventually agreed," Mira continued, "on two conditions. First, that I accompany Alice at all times. Second, that he sends one of the royal guard's knight instructors to help train us while also providing additional support to Northwatch's forces."
"Additional knight support and two talented squires in exchange for training opportunities," Alice said. "Father recognized the mutual benefit. Northwatch gets reinforcement. We get real combat experience."
Adrian was quiet, processing. Part of him wanted to refuse—to keep Alice somewhere safe rather than bringing her into daily danger. But another part recognized the logic. If she was serious about knighthood, about truly serving the kingdom, sheltered palace training wouldn't prepare her. And having violet flame at the border, along with Mira's orange and an additional knight instructor, would genuinely help Northwatch's defense.
"How long?" he finally asked.
"Until the academy letters arrive," Alice replied. "Two weeks for those. Then if we're accepted—when we're accepted—we'll have two months before reporting to whichever academy we choose. So potentially two and a half months at Northwatch if we use the full time."
"Two and a half months of demons, border patrols, constant vigilance, and training that makes tournament preparation look gentle."
"Yes."
"You're certain about this?"
"Completely. Two months is perfect—enough time to gain real experience, but not so long we're unprepared when formal academy training begins."
Adrian looked at Finn and Edric, both of whom had been quietly listening. Finn's expression suggested he saw the tactical value. Edric looked concerned but not disapproving.
"Your father will actually send a knight instructor?" Adrian asked, still processing.
"Knight-Captain Marcus of the royal guard," Alice confirmed. "Experienced warrior who's fought demons before. He'll help train us while providing additional capability to your forces."
Adrian took a deep breath, recognizing he'd been outmaneuvered by careful planning and logical arguments. "Fine. But you follow orders at Northwatch. My father commands the border defense. His word is law there. No princess privileges, no special treatment. You're squires training under harsh conditions."
"Agreed," Alice said immediately.
"And when I say something's too dangerous, you listen. Even if you disagree. Especially if you disagree."
"Agreed."
"And Mira—if at any point you determine the risk to Alice outweighs the training value, you have authority to end this. Guardian judgment supersedes my teaching."
"Understood," Mira confirmed.
Adrian nodded slowly. "Then... welcome to Northwatch. Don't say I didn't warn you when you're exhausted, covered in demon blood, and questioning every decision that led to this point."
"I won't," Alice promised, though her smile suggested she didn't quite believe it would be that difficult.
She'd learn.
Finn cleared his throat. "Should I assume I'm also invited to this masochistic training opportunity?"
"You want to come to Northwatch too?" Adrian asked.
"Yellow flame, analytical mind, desire to understand combat beyond tournament context? Of course I want to come. If Northwatch is the best real training available, I'd be foolish to refuse."
"Edric?"
"I was eliminated day one," Edric pointed out. "Pretty sure I need all the training I can get. Plus, someone needs to document this for future embarrassing stories."
Adrian found himself smiling despite the weight of responsibility. "Fine. Apparently I'm bringing half the tournament back to Northwatch. My father is going to have questions."
"Tell him it's practical," Finn suggested. "Violet, orange, yellow, and crimson flames plus a royal knight instructor. That's significant capability addition to border defense."
"Plus," Edric added cheerfully, "you get to spend two and a half months showing off your home to the princess. That's worth something."
"I hate you."
"You love me."
Alice was already making plans. "We'll need to arrange travel. Coordinate with Knight-Captain Marcus. Ensure supplies are adequate. When exactly do we leave?"
"Tomorrow morning," Adrian said, accepting the inevitable. "Early. Border travel isn't leisurely. We'll need to move quickly."
"Then we have tonight to prepare." Alice's expression was determined, excited, nervous—all mixed together. "Two and a half months at Northwatch. Real training. Real experience."
"Real danger," Adrian emphasized again.
"With real warriors to learn from," she countered. "Including you."
They stood together as the courtyard finished emptying. The trials were over. The tournament complete. Their performance judged. And now, rather than simply waiting for academy letters, Alice and several others would be traveling to the northern border for the kind of training that couldn't be found anywhere else.
Two weeks until letters arrived. Two months after acceptance before reporting to academies. Two and a half months total at Northwatch if they used every available day.
Facing demons. Learning what defense actually meant.
Adrian just hoped he was ready to teach what Alice was determined to learn.
And that she was as prepared for border life as she believed.