I started to push my Etherion out, feeling the familiar purple and gold energy swirl around me. But inside Mirayne's realm, it felt different - like trying to light a candle in a dense fog. The colors looked muted, and the energy moved sluggishly.
"Kid," Mirayne's voice cut through my concentration. "You're thinking too small. Make it thicker, more substantial. I can see the potential in you - now show me the reality of it."
She began circling me, her white-yellow aura contrasting sharply with my own. "This isn't about covering yourself. This is about claiming space. Making the very air recognize your presence."
Hours stretched on - or what felt like hours. In this timeless place, there was no sun to track, no shadows to follow. Just the constant drain of maintaining my Etherion, the mental strain of keeping it active. My muscles ached, my head throbbed, and I felt like I'd been standing for days.
Just when I thought I might collapse from exhaustion, Mirayne's voice broke the silence. "Kid! That's enough for today."
She waved her hand, and the pressure instantly vanished. I nearly crumpled to the glowing floor, catching myself just in time.
"We'll continue tomorrow," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Remember this feeling - this is what growth feels like."
With another wave of her hand, the luminous world dissolved around us, and I found myself back in the familiar forest clearing, the afternoon sun feeling strangely warm and real after the sterile light of her Etherion.
After that first day, the three weeks that followed felt like a descent into a special kind of hell, one made of exhaustion, constant pressure, and staggering breakthroughs. Lady Mirayne was a merciless instructor, her standards impossibly high. Yet, with every spell she taught me—complex shields, targeted energy lances, sensory enhancements—I felt my power solidify, transforming from a wild river into a disciplined, powerful current. I was exhausted beyond belief, but I was also profoundly grateful.
Then, suddenly, only two days remained before my departure. When I arrived at the forest clearing, Mirayne was already waiting. She wasn't surrounded by her usual aura, and she held a finely crafted leather bag in one hand.
"Kid, come here," she said, her voice softer than its usual commanding tone.
I approached, and she held out the bag. "Look inside. This will be your uniform for the Academy. Pack the clothes from your home in here as well."
As I took the bag, its quality was evident to the touch. She did something that shocked me. She knelt down, bringing her eyes level with mine. The gesture was so profoundly human, so unlike the ethereal Duchess of her Etherion. She placed a firm hand on my shoulder, her twilight gaze intense and unwavering.
"Listen to me, kid," she said, her voice low and serious. "No matter what happens at that school, no matter what anyone says or does, don't you ever lose hope. You don't just need to pass the entrance exam. You need to be at the top. Do you understand me? You must show them all, from the very first moment, that you belong there more than anyone."
The weight of her expectation was immense, but it was also a gift of belief. She saw my potential not as a curiosity but as a certainty. She patted my head, the gesture surprisingly gentle. "Now," she said, rising to her feet, her demeanor shifting. "We are going to the city. Consider it our goodbye."
Before I could even process it, the forest melted away in a whirl of color and sensation. There was no lurching journey, no carriage ride. In an instant, we were simply there, standing at the bustling edge of the capital city, the sounds and smells overwhelming after the silent eternity of her Etherion.
"Come," she said, a faint, genuine smile on her lips. "Let's get some food."
We ate seasoned meat from a street vendor, the flavors a vibrant shock after the simple food of home. Afterward, we wandered through the bustling market, watching performers. One, a magician, particularly caught my eye. He wasn't just casting spells; the magic he wielded was different. It was thicker, more substantial and stable, forming solid-looking constructs that lasted far longer than any I had seen, though it still paled in comparison to the raw, living power of Mirayne's aura.
I pointed him out. Mirayne glanced at the mage, her expression one of mild appraisal. "Adequate manipulation of ambient ether," she noted clinically. "I will teach you that principle, and far beyond it, after you return from the Academy."
We moved on, finding a quiet moment by a grand public fountain. The water danced in the sunlight, and for a brief second, it felt like a normal, peaceful day.
That peace was shattered by a voice that cut through the crowd's murmur like a blade—a voice dripping with authority and command.
"Mirayne."
The sound alone made me flinch. But Mirayne didn't startle. She turned her head toward the source with a look of pure, unadulterated irritation.
When I turned to look, my blood ran cold. It was the Commander of the Royal Army, a man whose face was etched on every coin and proclamation in the kingdom. Before my mind could even process the command, my body acted on instinct, dropping to one knee in a deep bow.
"Get up, kid," Mirayne said, her voice flat. "Why are you bowing?"
"It's the Commander!" I whispered, horrified. "Why wouldn't I?"
Her eyes narrowed. "If they want to play games of power, you must play too, and play to win. Look at me. I will explain later. For now, get up."
Her tone brooked no argument. Trembling, I rose to my feet just as the Commander and his retinue of knights closed the distance.
"Mirayne," the Commander said, a slick, unwelcome smile on his face. "How have you been? It's been too long."
"Yeah," she replied, her voice icy. "What do you want?"
He chuckled, a low, unpleasant sound, and boldly extended a hand towards her waist. "Please, don't act like that with m—"
He never finished.
Without a single word, without a flicker of hesitation, Mirayne moved. It wasn't a grand spell, just a flick of her wrist and a surge of concentrated heat. A searing white-hot aura flashed around the Commander's torso. There was no explosion, just the sizzle of scorched fabric and a choked cry from the man as he stumbled back, his fine tunic now blackened and smoking.
In an instant, his knights had swords drawn, surrounding us in a ring of steel.
The Commander, clutching his chest, waved them off violently, his face a mask of pain and fury. "Don't! Don't do anything! We can't… we can't touch her." He glared at Mirayne, his composure shattered. "So," he spat, the words laced with venom, "you've chosen Edryas."
Mirayne stood unwavering, her posture regal and dismissive. "I chose him a long time ago."
The Commander stared for a long, hate-filled moment, then turned on his heel and stormed away, his knights scrambling to follow. The rage radiating from him was a tangible force.
Once they were gone, the tension broke. "Let's go home," Mirayne said, her voice returning to its usual cool composure.
As we walked back toward the forest's edge, she finally explained. "The Commander was my classmate at the Academy. He became… obsessed. I never reciprocated. After Edryas and I got engaged, he became unstable. He once tried to assassinate Edryas in a fit of jealous rage." A shadow of a smirk touched her lips. "He got badly hurt for his trouble. Remember what I said, Kairu. Do not show weakness to men like that."
When we reached the familiar clearing, she stopped and turned to me. "Anyway, Edryas gave me something to give to you." She handed me a sealed letter. "Read it later. And now, go. Spend your last day tomorrow with your family. Truly be with them."
"Bye," I said, feeling a sudden lump in my throat. "Till we meet again."
She simply nodded. As I turned to leave, the Duke's knight, who had been a silent presence, stepped forward. He placed a heavy, gauntleted hand on my head in a gruff, kindly gesture. "Good luck, kid," he rumbled.
Then we separated. I ran all the way home, bursting through the door and rushing to my room to safely stow the letter from the Duke. At the dining table, my parents were waiting with a feast—a true celebration. We spent the entire night eating, telling stories, and laughing, pushing the looming future far from our minds. That night, surrounded by their love, I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, treasuring the final moments of the life I had always known.