Irfin was first. He scowled, but his fire dimmed as he approached Astra. With a short sigh, he placed his hand on her left arm.
A flicker of flame passed from him into her, and a crimson mark ignited across Astra's arm like molten ink, curling into intricate sigils before sinking beneath her skin entirely.
Irfin clicked his tongue.
"Tch. One hundred eighty-nine years," he muttered, "and you're still two steps ahead of everyone, little witch."
Astra's lips curved faintly. "You wouldn't have come if you didn't want this."
He said nothing, but he didn't deny it.
Neris, the water spirit, came next, graceful and serene. Her translucent robes flowed like river currents, and her presence quieted the wind itself.
She stepped close to Astra and then gently pressed two fingers against the center of Astra's chest—right above her heart.
The touch was cool and comforting.
"Still stubborn," Neris murmured softly. "Still reckless."
A faint warmth entered her voice.
"Still… you."
A wave of calm surged through Astra's mind, and a glistening crest of water shimmered briefly over her skin before vanishing.
Then came Aeros, the wind spirit, spinning lazily through the air with a mischievous grin, his pale hair flaring in all directions, caught in a breeze only he could command.
He hovered upside down for exactly three seconds before correcting himself purely because Terra glared at him.
Then he leaned closer and pressed a hand against Astra's shoulder.
Immediately, a powerful gust burst outward.
Her cloak snapped violently behind her as invisible currents spiraled around them both in playful chaos.
A mark of swirling wind formed briefly along Astra's collarbone, glowing pale silver before fading from sight.
"You better make things interesting this time," Aeros said with an amused laugh. "As usual~"
Lastly, Terra stepped forward.
Silent, steady, her presence grounding. Moss still clung to her shoulders like old memory, and earthy fragrance lingered around her.
She stopped behind Astra. Then placed a warm hand between her shoulder blades.
The instant she touched her, Astra felt it.
A deep vibration resonated through her entire body, not painful but impossibly heavy. Like mountains settling into place.
A polished stone-like sigil bloomed across her back beneath her clothes, glowing briefly before sinking deep into her skin.
Terra's voice rumbled softly. "The contract is complete."
As the final mark settled, the glow of the circle faded. It had served its purpose, only a vessel, not the bond itself.
The real bond lived in her now.
Astra exhaled slowly, her fingers curling slightly as the new weight of their essence settled within her.
The glow from the circle had faded, but the weight of its significance still lingered.
Astra turned to face the four spirits fully now. The wind tugged gently at the edges of her cloak as she met each of their gazes in turn.
She told them everything.
She began with herself. That she was Evelyn now—the first Princess of Cristiane now. A title that meant little to her in truth, but it offered a place to stand, a name to move under, and for now, that was enough.
Then she spoke of her true purpose.
She was building her own Guardians.
Each one of them, Inexperienced, yes—but each gifted beyond measure. Each one bore raw strength, fierce loyalty, or a deep, innate sense of justice. But raw power alone meant nothing.
Without guidance, without purpose, it would burn out or be twisted into something cruel. Astra had seen it happen too many times before.
She couldn't allow that again.
She had tried to teach them what she could. But she was still only a child in this world's eyes. Her every word, every step, was watched.
She couldn't reveal too much, couldn't risk drawing attention to the strange depth in her gaze or the unnatural insight in her hands. Too much guidance would stir suspicion.
She needed instructors.
Not just warriors. Not simple tutors from the palace. She needed beings who had shaped the world, who understood what power meant, and what responsibility cost.
The spirits remained silent at first, absorbing her words carefully.
Then Irfin scoffed.
"So," he said, folding his arms across his chest tightly. "you want us to teach them."
Astra met his gaze without hesitation.
"Although you're insufferably hot-headed," she replied evenly, "I suppose you can still make a decent instructor."
Irfin narrowed his eyes immediately.
Astra continued before he could complain.
"All of you can."
"You've lived longer than empires. Survived wars the world itself has forgotten. You shaped magic before it had a name."
"That kind of knowledge…" Astra said softly, "I can't find it anywhere else."
There was no manipulation in her words. No carefully crafted persuasion. Just truth. Plain and direct. And in that, something sharper than any flattery.
Astra knew perfectly well she had no right to ask this of them, not after the way she disappeared. But this wasn't about her anymore.
"They need you," she said quietly.
Her gaze moved across each of them in turn.
"Not just to become stronger."
A small pause followed.
"But to become something more."
None of the spirits spoke right away. But their silence wasn't resistance.
It was the kind that came before a choice that mattered.
Then Irfin let out another sharp huff.
"Well," he muttered, "if I'm stuck babysitting some hot-headed brats, they better not cry at the first burn."
Aeros immediately perked up, spinning lazily upside down in the air.
"Ooh~ I want the wild ones," he announced cheerfully. "The reckless kind. The ones who falls off a cliff but can still laugh."
Neris sighed softly, though there was unmistakable fondness hidden beneath it.
"If you believe in them that much," she said gently, "then I suppose the least I can do is help guide them."
Terra remained silent for several seconds. Then she gave one slow nod. Her approval was always quieter but firmer than stone.
Astra smiled slightly. She knew they would agree. She was sure that even if the world turned its back on her, even if no one else trusted her, they would.
That's just how stupid they were.
Loyal to a fault. Predictable in their stubbornness. Bound not just by the contract but by something older, something deeper.
They always were.
She turned her gaze toward the horizon where the sun was beginning to rise, brushing gold against the frostbitten trees.
The cold air bit at her skin, but she didn't flinch. There was warmth inside her now, fierce and ancient.
This time, she would not repeat the past.
This time, she would build something that could endure even after she was no longer there.
The wind was crisp atop the eastern terrace, a secluded perch carved into the palace's oldest wing.
From here, one could see the entire training ground, a sun-drenched circle of worn earth and weathered stone where seven figures moved with varying degrees of grace, power, and recklessness.
Astra stood near the edge, her cloak stirring in the breeze, arms folded, gaze unwavering.
Behind her, the four elemental spirits emerged, silent and watchful. Their presence distorted the air, subtle pulses of power rippling like heat over water, veiling them in a shimmer that blurred the line between realms.
"They are the ones."
Her voice was calm, almost quiet, but beneath it thrummed something deeper—resolve forged in fire, honed over lifetimes, tempered by failure and forged again.