Dawn came too early. Elara was roused by Magistra Lyra, who led her to a circular chamber carved from pure crystal. Light refracted through the walls, creating dancing patterns that made her dizzy.
"Today you learn to focus," Lyra said. "Magic is will made manifest. Without control, you are merely a vessel for power. With it, you become its master."
The training was brutal. For hours, Elara attempted to summon and control her starlight, succeeding only in creating wild bursts that left her exhausted and frustrated. By midday, she could barely stand.
"Again," Lyra commanded, her voice brooking no argument.
"I can't," Elara gasped.
"You can. You simply choose not to. There is a difference."
Angry now, Elara reached deeper than before, pulling on reserves she didn't know she had. Silver light erupted from her hands, so bright Lyra had to shield her eyes. The power surged through Elara like lightning, terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.
Then, just as quickly, she shaped it. Controlled it. The wild energy coalesced into a sphere of pure starlight, hovering above her palms, steady and calm.
Lyra smiled. "There. You see? You are stronger than your fear."
Elara collapsed, but she was smiling too. She had done it. She had controlled the power.
Over the following days, the training intensified. She learned to heal minor wounds, to create barriers of light, to sense deception and truth. Each skill came with a price exhaustion, headaches, sometimes even nosebleeds from the strain.
But she persevered.
On the seventh day, Aldric summoned her to the highest tower. Kieran was already there, looking troubled.
"What's wrong?" Elara asked immediately.
"Scouts report that Darius's forces have crossed into the northern territories," Aldric said gravely. "They march toward the mountains. Toward us."
"How long do we have?" Kieran asked.
"Three days, perhaps four. But that is not all." Aldric turned to Elara. "Darius brings with him a dark sorcerer. Malthus, a man who has bartered his humanity for forbidden power. He can track your starlight like a beacon."
Elara felt cold. "Then they'll find us."
"Yes," Aldric agreed. "Which is why you must leave. Tonight."
"But my training isn't complete," Elara protested.
"It never will be," Aldric said sadly. "But you have learned enough to survive. Enough to fight. The rest you will learn through experience."
"Where do we go?" Kieran asked.
"East, to the Free Cities. There are allies there, remnants of the old resistance. They can help you build an army."
Elara looked at this ancient mage who had given her so much in such little time. "Thank you. For everything."
"Thank me by surviving," Aldric said. "And by reclaiming what is yours. Astoria needs its queen."
That evening, as they prepared to leave, Elara realized she was no longer the frightened princess who had fled into the winter night. She was becoming something else. Something stronger.
She was becoming the queen her kingdom needed.