Lysara sat on the edge of her bed, boots still on, fingers tapping.

  The door opened with a familiar scrape.

  Tessa came in first.

  “I passed,” she announced happily. “You’re looking at an almost-certified mage.” She laughed, winking.

  Lysara nodded. Relief loosened something tight in her chest.

  Rowana followed more slowly, closing the door behind her. She hesitated, then gave a small smile. “They offered Apothecary.”

  Lysara stood before she realized she was moving and hugged her—brief, careful, like she wasn’t sure it was allowed. Rowana laughed softly and returned it.

  They sat together after that, the tension easing into something warmer.

  “So,” Rowana said, sprawling across her bed. “What are you thinking?”

  “About?” Lysara asked.

  Rowana snorted. “About everything.”

  Lysara hesitated. “They gave me options.”

  Rowana blinked. “Really? No surprise there—you’re a genius with plants, and you’ve been steady in Alchemy.”

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  “They also offered scouting.” Lysara said quietly.

  Tessa nodded, teasing. “That tracks. You’re still unparalleled at trying to disappear.”

  “I think I’ll choose a primary and a secondary.” Lysara said.

  Neither of them said more.

  The next morning, Lysara dressed with care.

  Not for appearance—but for intent.

  She reported to the administrative wing and was directed, again, to the smaller council room. This time the atmosphere was different. Less evaluative. More… transactional.

  The apothecary professor smiled when Lysara entered. “You’ve come to formalize.”

  “Yes,” Lysara said.

  The alchemist leaned forward immediately. “Focus?”

  “Primary,” Lysara answered. “Alchemy.”

  The apothecary’s smile thinned.

  “Interesting,” they said. “Given your aptitude.”

  “Which is precisely why,” the alchemist cut in smoothly. “She understands instability. She works with it.”

  “She stabilizes,” the apothecary countered. “That’s not the same thing.”

  “It’s better,” the alchemist replied. “Especially for someone who doesn’t force outcomes.”

  The iron-haired woman watched the exchange without intervening.

  Lysara waited until the moment felt right.

  “I’d like Apothecary as my secondary,” she said evenly. “Field-integrated.”

  Both professors turned to her.

  “That would divide your focus even further,” the apothecary said.

  “It would clarify it,” Lysara replied.

  Silence followed.

  The apothecary exhaled, then nodded once. “Very well. But you will meet our standards.”

  “I expect nothing less,” Lysara said.

  The iron-haired woman finally spoke. “Your selections are noted. You will be assigned mentors accordingly.”

  Lysara inclined her head.

  As she turned to leave, the ranger stood near the doorway—not blocking her path, not inviting conversation.

  “Field integration won’t grant you access to the Fog Forest,” the ranger said.

  Lysara paused. “I was raised in Black Hollow.”

  The ranger studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Good luck.”

  Back in the corridor, Lysara felt her mind settle.

  Direction.

  She had not solved anything.

  But she had chosen the ground on which she would look for it.