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The air creature doesn’t move, allowing the frozen pieces to penetrate her form.
But I know there’s also water in her air. Even within her divine body, I can feel it responding to me.
Instead of passing straight through, the ice projectiles expand. The crystals in her body grow, holding her rigidly in place.
She bares her teeth in a snarl. Surging lightning finds and disperses the crystals, which she then thrusts toward me.
Each challenge comes faster than the last, barely giving me time to recover.
More opponents appear without warning.
A new attacker, with skin like flexible metal, hurls balls of fire that sizzle and steam as they collide with my magic. A shadowy creature tries to blind me, forcing me to sense the water through touch rather than sight.
They might be fast, but I’m one step ahead.
I dive into a whirlpool of my own creation, disappearing beneath the surface. The water welcomes me, embraces me, becomes me. I can see through the magic, feel through it, exist as part of it. Then I erupt from its center, water-dragons coiling around my arms, their liquid maws open in silent roars.
A wall of fire stretches across the training ground, but I walk through the flames, untouched within my protective water sphere. I emerge on the other side with steam rising from my shoulders but not a mark on me.
Exhilarating, dizzying power gushes through my veins.
Is this what being a guardian means?
Above me, someone creates a miniature avalanche. A massive mound of snow and ice crashes toward me.
Instead of creating a new barrier, I extend my hands and concentrate on the moisture within the avalanche itself. With a single sharp gesture, I freeze the entire mass into a thin, solid sheet of ice. The structure hovers in mid-air, the force of the avalanche arrested.
“Enough!” Rivlan calls, and the others retreat to the edges of the training ground.
I let the ice sheet dissolve back into water that splashes at my feet. My body aches, and my muscles burn, but I welcome the discomfort. Pain means I’m powerful and alive. I utter a silent vow to do whatever it takes to win the match.
For Lark. For Tirene. For humanity.
I accept a cup of water that Rivlan conjures—an irony that doesn’t escape me—and down half of it.
“Your progress is remarkable.” Rivlan studies me with those unreadable eyes. “At this rate, you’ll be ready for the Champions Match well before the deadline.”
“Good.” When I finish the water, the cup disappears from my hand. “We can start spreading the news about the match in Tirene.”
The god hesitates, his form rippling like disturbed water. “Let us keep it quiet for now. The date and the fact that you are training.”
I pause midway through wiping sweat from my face. “Why?”
“The announcement will bring…attention. Expectations. Distractions.” Rivlan’s form shivers, briefly losing cohesion before solidifying again. “Better to continue your training in peace, without the added pressure.”
Tactically, his words possess a certain logic. Keep my progress hidden from Zeru and his faction. Let them underestimate me and remain unprepared for my growing power.
“Fine.” Magic flows through my veins like never before, accompanied by an uncomfortable realization.
I’ve entered a game with rules I don’t fully understand, where other players have been moving pieces for millennia.
While I may be gaining strength, I’m still basically mortal, surrounded by gods with their own agendas.
And though I refuse to let it show, that knowledge fucking terrifies me.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I slam my quill down, and black ink splatters across the latest trade agreement from the Southern Provinces. The tiny droplets blur the carefully penned words like tears. My eyes burn from hours of reading, but it’s not the physical strain that instills me with the overpowering urge to scream.
