It's still real...

The clang of metal echoed across the open sky.

Seraphyne grunted, shadow magic flaring as she barely deflected a sweep from Nyxara's glowing staff. The dragon-woman moved with inhuman speed, graceful and terrifying—like a storm disguised as a dancer.

Nerys barely paid it any attention.

Her eyes were on Solene.

They stood near the edge of the arena, both watching the match—at least pretending to. Solene's arms were crossed, her expression focused.

But she was relaxed.

That soft, subtle warmth was back in her.

Seraphyne had brought that out of her.

And Nerys—

Nerys had to know if there was anything left beneath the ash.

She stepped closer, voice low but steady. "Sol."

Solene glanced at her. "Yeah?"

"Walk with me."

Solene raised a brow but nodded. They moved a short distance toward the edge of the arena, out of the noise and flying spells. Wind pulled at their hair. The clouds below shifted like restless water.

Nerys stopped and turned to her, arms stiff at her sides.

"I need to ask you something."

Solene's expression shifted. Gentle. Cautious. "Go ahead."

Nerys took a breath.

Then another.

And said it.

"Do you still love me?"

Solene blinked.

Nerys pushed through before she could answer.

"I'm not here to make you feel guilty. I'm not mad about you and Seraphyne. She saved you. She holds you now. I get it. But I need to know… was it ever real for you? Or was I just the only one who saw you back then?"

Solene didn't speak at first.

Then she stepped forward, close, but not touching.

"It was real," she said softly. "Gods, Nerys—it was everything to me. You were the only one who saw me before I saw myself."

Nerys swallowed hard, eyes burning.

Solene looked away, her voice quieter now. "But I broke. And you were in chains. And while I was falling apart, Seraphyne caught me."

"And now you're hers?" Nerys asked, voice tighter than she wanted.

Solene shook her head.

"No. I'm still me. I still remember the way you kissed me that night in the snow. I remember the promise in your eyes. That doesn't vanish."

She finally looked at her again.

"It still burns," Solene said. "But it's different now."

Nerys stepped forward, only inches between them.

"Then let it burn."

Solene's breath caught.

"I'm not here to steal you," Nerys said. "I just don't want to live pretending it didn't matter. That I didn't matter."

"You did," Solene whispered.

"You still love me?"

Solene hesitated.

Then nodded once.

"Yeah," she said. "I do."

Nerys didn't smile.

She just exhaled like she'd been holding that breath for years.

"Okay," she said. "That's all I needed."

She turned to walk back toward the others, shoulders lighter.

Behind her, Solene stood still, wind tugging at her cloak, watching the girl who'd once been her world walk back into it—stronger, bolder, and no longer asking to be chosen.

Just seen.

---

—Part II—

Seraphyne—

Her back hit the clouds.

Not soft.

Nyxara's arena looked like mist and silk, but it hit like tempered steel.

Seraphyne grunted, rolled back to her feet, shadows crackling around her wrists. She raised both arms in time to block another sweeping strike from Nyxara's staff.

"You're hesitating," Nyxara chided mid-spin, her movements fluid, relentless. "Again."

"I'm not—" Seraphyne gritted her teeth, redirecting a flicker of shadow into a spear that Nyxara batted aside like a toy.

"You are," Nyxara said easily, stepping in and planting a palm against Seraphyne's chest—sending her flying back into the wind with a hard thump.

She skidded. Swore.

And stood.

Her vision flicked sideways—

Solene.

Talking to Nerys. Pulled a little away from the group. Alone.

Seraphyne's breath caught.

They were close. Closer than she liked.

Nerys's stance was stiff. Solene's expression… soft.

Nyxara chuckled.

The staff twirled in her hands again, but she didn't strike.

"Ohhh," she sang, "that explains it."

Seraphyne snapped her attention back.

"Explains what?" she spat.

Nyxara raised a brow, tail curling in amusement.

"You're not distracted by my fighting, little flame." She grinned. "You're distracted by hers."

Seraphyne flushed. "It's not like that."

Nyxara's grin sharpened. "You love her."

"I told her that last night," Seraphyne growled.

"You did," Nyxara agreed. "But you're still scared she's not only yours."

Seraphyne tensed, magic rising unbidden.

Nyxara stopped suddenly—staff resting on her shoulder. "You want to claim her."

"I don't—"

Nyxara stepped forward, eyes gleaming. "Yes, you do."

The words hit harder than the staff.

Because they were true.

Seraphyne looked away, swallowing fire.

"I just don't want to lose her."

Nyxara's voice softened for the first time. "Then love her without fear. Or risk burning yourself trying to cage something that only breathes when it's free."

Seraphyne stood silent.

Nerys and Solene were walking back now, steps measured. Faces unreadable.

Seraphyne breathed out.

And raised her hands again.

"Good," Nyxara said, settling into a stance.

—Part III—

The training field had grown quiet, the echo of strikes and grunts now replaced by heavy breathing, slumped bodies, and sweat-slicked silence.

The group sprawled across a wide stone bench overlooking the cloud-drenched valley. Plates of food—rich stews, warm flatbread, crisp greens, and chilled citrus fruits—sat untouched for a few long seconds as everyone just... existed.

Lira had collapsed onto her back in the grass, muttering into the sky.

"I didn't even know I had muscles there."

Nerys was hunched forward, rubbing her left arm. "She threw me into a tree made of air. A tree."

Solene winced as she stretched out her legs. "I felt my spine pop in six languages."

Seraphyne grunted. "She aimed for my face on purpose."

Nyxara, meanwhile, stood untouched by fatigue—perfect posture, not a bead of sweat in sight, sipping delicately from a silver goblet like she'd just finished a nap, not a sparring session.

She smiled, positively glowing.

"I'm so proud of you all."

The entire group groaned in unison.

Lira sat up with a glare. "Are you even tired?"

"No."

Nerys narrowed her eyes. "Do you breathe?"

"Occasionally."

Seraphyne muttered something in demon-tongue that sounded suspiciously like an insult.

Nyxara just laughed and strolled in front of them, swirling her goblet. "To be fair, you're all stronger than you were this morning."

Solene raised an eyebrow. "Because we got beat within an inch of our lives?"

"Not just that," Nyxara said. She paused in front of them and turned, more serious now. "Every time I struck you, I infused a sliver of my Spiritual Energy into the attack."

Lira blinked. "You what?"

"It's a form of awakened physical reinforcement," Nyxara said casually, like she was commenting on the weather. "Stimulates growth. Repairs minor damage. Builds resistance. Speeds muscle development. Painful, yes, but effective."

Nerys's brow furrowed. "So... you're saying you beat the crap out of us... for our own good?"

Nyxara grinned. "Exactly."

Seraphyne snorted. "Great. She's benevolent and smug. My favorite."

Solene leaned back, chuckling despite herself. "I hate how much I already feel it working."

"Give it a week," Nyxara said, sipping again. "You'll start being able to last longer and longer.."

They all groaned again—but there was a smile beneath it now.

Because as battered as they were, there was something different in the air.

Strength.

Progress.

And the first hint of hope that next time... they'd be the ones doing the breaking.

—Part IV—

Just as the group began to settle into their exhaustion, Nyxara clapped her hands once—sharp and bright.

"Up," she said, her voice commanding but warm. "Time to temper the body."

Groans erupted from every corner.

"I just sat down," Seraphyne muttered.

"Can't we temper the body tomorrow?" Lira added, dragging herself upright.

But Nyxara had already turned on her heel, her long robe fluttering behind her as she began to walk, her voice drifting back.

"I have a special garden. Grows herbs and medicines infused with the essence of the heavens and the earth…"

She paused, smirking.

"Or in simpler terms—Spiritual Energy. Now move, before your muscles lock up and I have to carry you like sacks of wet bread."

Reluctantly—but intrigued—they followed.

---

The path led to a vast open-air structure, wreathed in silver trees and delicate glowing blossoms. At its heart lay a massive hot spring, steam rising into the twilight sky. The water shimmered faintly with iridescent light, as though the stars themselves had melted into it.

Nyxara walked to the edge and summoned a small velvet pouch from thin air with a flick of her wrist. She opened it and tossed a few pinches of glittering herb into the water.

The steam changed—fragrant now, layered with mint, jasmine, and something that made every bone ache with need.

Nyxara turned, her grin absolutely wicked.

"Strip," she said.

Before anyone could argue, she flicked her wrist again—

—and with a gentle pulse of magic, every robe and article of clothing vanished, neatly folded in glowing air beside each woman.

Lira squeaked and covered her chest, turning bright red.

Seraphyne sputtered. "You could've asked!"

Nerys just sighed and stepped in with a warrior's dignity.

Solene didn't even flinch, her eyes half-lidded as the steam curled around her legs.

Nyxara was already gliding into the water, hair floating behind her like silver thread.

"Come on," she purred. "This bath is older than Tartarus itself. It'll stitch your skin, soothe your blood, and make you ache in very specific ways tomorrow."

One by one, they stepped in.

The water was bliss.

Warm, effervescent, wrapping around their tired bodies like a lover's hands. Muscles relaxed. Wounds tingled as if being kissed from the inside out.

Nyxara leaned back, arms along the stone rim, watching them all settle in with a look of smug satisfaction.

"There," she said. "Now we're all just women again."

Solene floated close to Seraphyne, their legs brushing beneath the surface. Nerys stretched with a sigh that almost sounded like peace. Lira dunked herself to the neck and refused to resurface.

And Nyxara?

She smiled.

Because they were healing.

And she could feel the fire inside them beginning to rise.