The training field smelled like sweat and blood.
As warriors engaged in combat in the arena in front of her, Selene stood at the edge, her heart racing. They moved in a fast, brutal and controlled manner with every strike echoing like a drumbeat.
She flinched as one wolf slammed another to the ground.
"Lyra never flinched," someone muttered behind her.
She pretended not to hear.
Kael stood a few paces away, arms crossed as his sharp eyes never left her.
"Step forward," he said.
Selene obeyed.
The sun was hot against her back. She wore a light leather vest and soft boots—gear they had brought for her, as if she'd always belonged in it. But she didn't feel like a warrior.
She felt like an imposter in someone else's skin.
Kael pointed to a set of short wooden blades. "Pick one."
Selene reached out and grabbed one, trying not to show how her hand trembled.
"Again," he said.
She blinked and said, "What?"
"Drop it. Pick another."
She obeyed.
"Now the last one."
He watched the way she moved. She could feel his gaze on every step, every hesitation with her pulse thundered in her ears.
Finally, Kael nodded.
"That one. Now face me."
Her stomach dropped.
"You want me to fight you?"
He didn't smile, "You used to train with me every day, or did you forget that too?"
Selene swallowed hard, "I… don't want to hurt you."
A few of the warriors nearby laughed.
Kael stepped into the ring, "Then try not to embarrass yourself."
She barely lasted twenty seconds.
Kael didn't hit her—not really. But he moved like wind and shadow, twisting around her slow strikes and he didn't even raise his voice nor did he insult her.
But every time he blocked her blade, it turned her, stepped past her guard, and Selene felt the weight of his doubt.
She lunged, blade shaking. Kael didn't block. The wooden edge tapped against his arm like a child's plaything. His eyes flared with disappointment before he kicked her feet out from underneath her.
She landed hard on her back with a gasp that was winded and the sky spun above her.
Kael stepped back, "Enough."
She sat up slowly, humiliated.
"You've grown soft," he said.
Selene didn't answer. What could she say?
She wasn't Lyra.
She wasn't strong, she wasn't trained and she had spent her life locked in a tower sewing torn sheets and staring at birds from a tiny window.
But no one knew that and she couldn't tell them.
"You'll train again tomorrow," Kael said, turning away.
She pushed herself to her feet, "Wait."
He paused.
She swallowed, "I'm trying."
His expression didn't change. But his voice softened—barely.
"Then keep trying." And he walked away.
The whispers got worse.
-------
In the dining hall, wolves stared when she walked in. Some lowered their voices and others didn't bother.
"Lyra once split a man's skull—this one can't even lift a sword right…"
"She asked me how patrol shifts work and Lyra would never ask that."
"She's faking. I know it."
Selene sat at the edge of the long table and picked at her food. The stew was good, but her stomach twisted with every bite.
Kael sat across the hall, alone at the high table. His eyes met hers once and then he looked away.
A girl sat beside her. About her age with bright eyes, brown skin, and short curls.
"I'm Kira," the girl whispered. "You don't remember me?"
Selene shook her head. "No…I'm sorry."
Kira smiled gently. "That's okay, I used to bring you honeybread when you skipped training. You liked sweet things."
Selene tried to smile back, "I still do."
Kira's voice lowered. "Don't let them get to you. You came back from something dark and that takes strength even if no one else sees it yet."
Selene blinked fast; it was the first kind word she had heard since coming here.
Kira stood up and excused herself.
Selene was summoned to the library by Kael later that night.
-------
There were leather-bound books and scrolls in the large, cold chamber. Windows with stained glass let in moonlight. Unsure of why she was there, Selene stood in the middle.
Kael entered with a sealed scroll in hand.
Holding it out, he said, "This belonged to you."
After taking it, she paused before unrolling the parchment.
The handwriting of Lyra covered it;
Sharp, elegant and confident.
At the bottom, a line caught her eye:
"The Council is blind. If they won't follow me, I'll force them to."
Her blood ran cold.
Kael's voice was quiet. "Do you remember writing that?"
"No," she said.
"But you recognize it."
She looked up. "Should I?"
Kael stepped closer, "You tell me."
The air between them tightened.
He was close now…too close.
"Why are you testing me?" she whispered.
"Because something's wrong," he said softly. "You're not her, at least not completely."
Her breath caught.
He didn't move, "The Lyra I knew never hesitated, never doubted and she was flame wrapped in skin."
"Maybe I changed," she said, barely above a whisper.
He studied her.
"Or maybe you're just someone wearing her skin."
For a heartbeat, neither of them breathed.
Then he stepped back. "Rest, tomorrow we begin early."
He left her standing there with the scroll trembling in her hands.
-------
That night, Selene lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
She was slipping.
Kael knew.
Others were beginning to suspect.
How long could she pretend?
And more importantly—why had Lyra written those words?
What had she planned to do before she vanished?
Selene turned on her side, clutching the blanket tighter.
She couldn't run now. Not until she understood who Lyra really was… and why everyone seemed more afraid of her return than relieved.