The flames in the Yogini mansion’s study danced with an unnatural intensity, casting flickering shadows across the room. Baelor Yogini sat at his massive desk, his midnight-black fleece gleaming like polished obsidian in the dim light. A mug of enchanted coffee sat before him, faint wisps of crimson swirling through the liquid, a testament to the blood alchemy he infused it with. It wasn’t just for flavor—it sharpened his mind, heightened his focus, and, as some whispered, tethered him closer to forbidden powers.
He lifted the mug, taking a measured sip before setting it down with deliberate care. His molten-gold eyes locked on Rynn as the younger Yogini entered the room, his usual swagger on full display.
“You wanted to see me?” Rynn asked, leaning against the doorframe, his smirk sharp and insincere.
Baelor set the mug aside, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. “Sit.”
Rynn didn’t move. “I’m fine where I am.”
Baelor’s gaze didn’t waver, his tone calm but weighted. “This isn’t a request.”
Sighing dramatically, Rynn sauntered over to a nearby chair and dropped into it, his posture languid. “Happy now?”
Baelor ignored the sarcasm. “We need to discuss your future, Rynn. The choices you’re making... they concern me.”
“Let me guess,” Rynn said, leaning back and lacing his fingers behind his head. “You want me to take over the cult, chant some creepy hymns, and act like I enjoy it.”
Baelor’s jaw tightened, the flicker of a scowl momentarily breaking his composure. “The Twilight Conclave is not a cult. It is a foundation of control, a balance in a chaotic world. Through us, the world is shaped—not destroyed. But it requires vision, discipline, and understanding. Qualities you’ve squandered.”
“And here I thought you wanted an heir, not a mirror,” Rynn shot back, his smirk widening.
Baelor’s fingers drummed once on the desk, a slow, deliberate sound that echoed in the heavy silence of the room. “This isn’t a game, Rynn. You’ve reached an age where your decisions will define not only your future but the legacy of this family.”
“Funny you should mention that,” Rynn said, his voice laced with defiance. “I’ve already made my decision.”
Baelor arched a single eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “And?”
“I’m joining the Invader Guild,” Rynn said, leaning forward, his smirk cutting like a blade. “Under Empress Xyra Drakov.”
The room fell into a heavy silence, the flames in the fireplace flickering as if disturbed by an unseen wind. Baelor’s golden eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “You mean to serve a furless alien? You’d abandon your legacy to follow a child?”
“She’s fifteen,” Rynn corrected, his tone casual but firm. “Younger than me and already controls more planets than some species even know exist. She doesn’t need battles. She just walks in and makes entire worlds kneel. That’s real power.”
Baelor rose slowly from his chair, his towering frame casting a shadow across the room. “And you think serving her makes you strong? It makes you a pawn, Rynn. A tool for her ambitions.”
“At least she has ambitions,” Rynn snapped, standing to meet his father’s gaze. “She’s doing something, shaping the galaxy on her terms. You sit here, sipping blood coffee, preaching control while your cultists push magic drugs in back alleys.”
Baelor’s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. “You see only what you want to see. Xyra Drakov’s power is hollow, built on submission, not loyalty. When it crumbles, as all empires do, you’ll have nothing.”
Rynn’s smirk returned, sharper than ever. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
Baelor watched him leave, his expression unreadable as the study door closed with a quiet click.
---
In the kitchen, Swayg Yogini stood at the counter, her silk night robe trailing elegantly around her as she stirred a steaming cauldron. The sharp scent of herbs and something faintly metallic filled the air as she prepared a potion for her hangover. Her usual poise was slightly undone by the previous night’s revelries, though the glint in her emerald eyes remained as sharp as ever.
“Hangover cure?” Rynn asked, leaning against the doorway with a smirk.
“Guilty,” Swayg said, her voice smooth as she added another pinch of ground bark to the mixture. “You know your mother doesn’t brawl without a cost.”
Rynn chuckled, stepping into the room. “So, rough night?”
Swayg’s ears twitched faintly, a smile tugging at her lips. “Rough? No. Necessary? Absolutely. The Ferretkin needed a reminder of who they were speaking to.”
As she took a sip of the potion, Rynn leaned on the counter, his smirk shifting into something more curious. “Dad’s not thrilled about my plans to join Xyra.”
Swayg raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking to him over the rim of her mug. “And why would he be? You’re walking away from your birthright to follow a girl from another galaxy.”
“She’s not just a girl,” Rynn said, his tone defensive. “She’s—”
“A furless alien,” Swayg interrupted, though her voice was light with amusement. “And yes, I know who she is. I met her once, years ago.”
Rynn blinked, caught off guard. “You met Xyra?”
Swayg set the mug down, her expression softening with a hint of nostalgia. “Her father, Kaelen Valrath, came to Yami twelve years ago to save this planet. An asteroid was hurtling toward us, and no one here had the technology to stop it. Kaelen’s fleet destroyed it before it breached the atmosphere. In return, he opened trade between Yami and Earth. That’s where our advancements came from.”
“And Xyra?” Rynn asked, his curiosity piqued.
Swayg’s gaze grew distant. “She was... remarkable. Even at thirteen, she carried herself with the authority of someone much older. What makes her dangerous, Rynn, isn’t just her power. It’s her ability to make people submit willingly. She took Yami without a single battle. No bloodshed, no threats. She simply walked into the capital, and every leader in the room bowed.”
Rynn’s smirk widened. “Exactly. That’s why I admire her. That’s the kind of strength that matters.”
Swayg studied her son for a long moment, her expression a mix of pride and concern. “Strength without purpose is nothing, Rynn. You can follow Xyra if you must, but don’t lose sight of who you are—or what you can become.”
Rynn pushed off the counter, his smirk softening but not fading. “Don’t worry, Mom. I know exactly who I am.”
Swayg sighed, watching him leave. “I hope so,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
---
The vibrant hum of Ebonvale Academy was already in full swing as Rynn stepped through its polished stone gates, the morning sun casting long shadows across the immaculate courtyards. Clusters of students hurried between classes or loitered in small groups, their laughter and chatter bouncing off the towering walls. For most, it was just another day of prestige and privilege. For Rynn, it promised to be slightly more entertaining.
As he strolled onto campus, his sharp eyes immediately found Teris, the Catkin vice president of the student council. The lanky boy was standing at the edge of the courtyard, animatedly talking to Aelor Ven'Dral, the ever-uptight Deerkin treasurer. Teris’s tail twitched with frustration as he gestured wildly toward a group of girls gathered nearby.
Rynn followed the direction of Teris’s pointed finger and spotted Aria Velshade, standing in the center of a semicircle of girls who were clearly having the time of their lives. The usually reserved Wolfkin—or Bunnykin, as most still believed—was laughing as she exchanged phone numbers with her newfound admirers, her crimson eyes sparkling in the morning light.
Teris pointed again, this time at Rynn as he approached. “You see this?” he hissed. “She’s already causing chaos, and she hasn’t even joined the council yet!”
Rynn smirked, raising a hand in mock surrender. “Relax, Teris. A little chaos is good for the ecosystem.”
Before Aelor could turn around, Rynn stealthily crept up behind him, wrapping an arm around the Deerkin’s shoulders with casual familiarity. “Morning, Aelor,” he drawled. “What’s got you all worked up this early?”
Aelor stiffened, his antlers twitching slightly before he sighed and shrugged Rynn’s arm off. “Must you always do that?”
Rynn’s grin widened. “You make it too easy.”
Aelor crossed his arms, his expression shifting to something more serious. “The top families are not pleased about Aria’s rise in popularity—or her joining the student council.”
Rynn raised an eyebrow. “The families? Or just their kids?”
Aelor hesitated. “Their children don’t seem to mind. But the parents see her as an outsider—a commoner without pedigree. They believe the council should remain exclusive.”
“Sounds like a ‘them’ problem,” Rynn said, his tone light but with a dangerous edge. “Is this going somewhere, or are you just venting?”
Aelor sighed. “The Dean wishes to speak to you about it.”
Rynn’s smirk didn’t falter. “Of course he does. Anything else, or can I go ruin someone’s morning?”
---
Rynn made his way across the courtyard, weaving through the crowd with ease as his focus settled on Aria. She was still surrounded by the group of girls, her crimson eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and exasperation. One of the girls handed her a phone, giggling as Aria typed something into it.
“Enjoying yourself?” Rynn asked as he approached, his voice low enough to avoid drawing attention from the others.
Aria glanced up, her smile widening when she saw him. “Oh, absolutely. Thanks to you, apparently I’m the most fascinating person in school.”
Rynn smirked, leaning against a nearby pillar. “I aim to please.”
Aria rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the amusement in her tone. “Let me guess—you’re here to drag me into more trouble?”
“Actually,” Rynn said, his smirk softening, “I was checking up on you. Making sure you haven’t scared anyone off yet.”
Aria snorted, shaking her head. “You’re the reason I’m dealing with this in the first place. All this attention, the invitations, the ‘let’s get lunch’ texts? That’s on you.”
“Glad I could help,” Rynn said, the mock sincerity in his voice earning a soft laugh from Aria.
She finished exchanging phone numbers with one last girl before turning back to him, her smile fading slightly. “Look, about the student council thing—I don’t want to join. I never asked for this.”
“And yet, here we are,” Rynn said, his tone light. “Maybe you’ll thank me later.”
“Doubtful,” Aria said, though the smile returned to her lips. “Good luck convincing me otherwise.”
Rynn glanced over his shoulder toward the main building. “I’ve got to meet the Dean about it anyway. Don’t get too comfortable.”
---
The Dean’s office, nestled deep within the academy’s central tower, was a reflection of the Ratkin Kingdom’s intellectual legacy. The room was lined with shelves crammed with ancient tomes, their spines marked with faded golden lettering. Parchments and scrolls lay neatly stacked on the desk, alongside small alchemical devices and glowing crystals that hummed faintly with stored magic. The scent of parchment, ink, and earth hung heavily in the air.
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Behind the sprawling wooden desk sat Dean Alaric Tamsin, a wiry Ratkin with graying fur and sharp, calculating eyes framed by round spectacles. He wore simple robes adorned with subtle scholarly embroidery, his demeanor calm but alert.
“Ah, Rynn Yogini,” Alaric said as Rynn entered, his voice warm yet deliberate. “Please, take a seat.”
Rynn dropped into the chair across from the desk, his posture relaxed and irreverent. “I hear you wanted to see me.”
Alaric adjusted his spectacles, his gaze steady. “Indeed. I understand you’ve nominated Aria Velshade for a position on the student council.”
“That’s right,” Rynn said, his smirk unwavering. “She’s got potential.”
Alaric’s whiskers twitched faintly, though his expression remained neutral. “It’s certainly an unexpected choice. But then, you have a tendency to defy expectations.”
“I like to keep things interesting,” Rynn said with a grin.
The Dean gave a soft chuckle. “Interesting indeed. I’ve decided to approve her application.”
“Glad to hear it,” Rynn said, leaning back in his chair. “Anything else?”
“Yes,” Alaric replied, folding his hands atop the desk. “I’ve also decided to add another student to the council. Eva Hold, daughter of Duchess Hold of our own kingdom.”
Rynn raised an eyebrow. “A bard and enchanter, if I remember correctly. Why the sudden addition?”
“Diplomatic relations,” Alaric said simply. “Her mother wishes for her to gain experience in leadership while fostering ties within the academy. I trust you’ll extend her the same... mentorship you’ve offered others.”
Rynn’s smirk returned, though a faint edge crept into his voice. “Of course.”
Alaric’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before he nodded. “That will be all for now.”
Rynn rose, giving the Dean a casual salute before strolling out of the office. As the door clicked shut behind him, hi smirk widened. Things were about to get far more interesting.
---
The student council chamber of Ebonvale Academy exuded an atmosphere of tradition and influence, its polished stone walls adorned with intricate carvings depicting the academy’s history and its role in the Ratkin Kingdom. Soft golden light streamed from enchanted crystal sconces, casting gentle shadows over the long mahogany table at the center of the room. The table, lined with high-backed chairs, symbolized more than just governance—it was a microcosm of the academy’s intricate and fractured social hierarchy.
At its head sat Rynn, his posture impossibly casual as he leaned back, one hand lazily draped over the arm of the chair while the other toyed with a quill. He arrived first, a deliberate move to assert dominance in his role as president. The smirk tugging at his lips was as much a part of his attire as the immaculate school uniform he wore.
Rynn didn’t wait long before the door opened sharply to admit Teris, the vice president and, undeniably, the council’s most organized member. The Catkin’s tail flicked with irritation as he carried in a meticulously arranged stack of documents, all color-coded and bound. His glasses caught the light as he fixed Rynn with a pointed glare.
“You’re here early,” Teris remarked, setting the papers down. “Should I be concerned?”
“Not at all,” Rynn replied smoothly, his smirk widening. “I thought I’d give you the pleasure of witnessing my dedication.”
Teris snorted, already flipping through his files. “Dedication? You’re usually dedicated to being late.”
“Let’s call it a new leaf,” Rynn said, shrugging.
Before Teris could retort, the doors opened again. Aelor, the Deerkin treasurer, entered with his characteristic composure, the soft clink of gold-accented ledger cases in his hands betraying his meticulous preparation. His antlers gleamed under the light, a reflection of his polished and methodical demeanor.
“I see the president has decided to grace us with his timely presence,” Aelor said, his tone flat but laced with subtle sarcasm. He placed his ledger cases carefully in front of him before taking a seat across from Rynn.
“Twice in one meeting,” Teris quipped, glancing at Rynn. “First you show up on time, and now Aelor attempts humor. Should I document the date for posterity?”
“Please do,” Rynn said with a laugh. “I’ll autograph it later.”
The camaraderie though veiled in barb was broken as the doors swung open once more, admitting Eva Hold and Aria Velshade, each commanding attention in their own unique ways.
---
Eva swept in first, her steps deliberate, her presence magnetic. Her caramel-colored Ratkin fur, streaked with gleaming silver highlights, seemed to catch every flicker of light, making her movement mesmerizing. The faint hint of her Pigkin heritage added a sharpness to her otherwise sleek appearance. Her cerulean-blue eyes sparkled with amusement as she took in the room, her voice carrying a musical lilt when she spoke.
“Well, well,” Eva said, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. “The council’s all set up, and no one’s throwing desks yet. Are we actually running a civilized meeting?”
“Eva,” Teris said with the strained politeness of someone battling rising frustration, “do try to take this seriously. Your role as events coordinator requires focus and—”
“Focus? How boring,” Eva interrupted, sliding into her seat near the center of the table. “Don’t worry, Vice Clerk. I’m here to make this council shine, even if you insist on dulling it down with your charts and schedules.”
---
Trailing behind Eva was Aria, who moved with a stark contrast to the bard’s exuberance. Her crimson eyes swept the room with quiet precision, assessing everything and everyone. Her white hair framed her sharp features, and though her ears twitched faintly at the faint hum of the room’s enchanted crystals, her expression betrayed no emotion.
Aria didn’t wait to be addressed, slipping into the seat to Rynn’s left, farthest from Eva’s playful radius. She crossed her arms and leaned back, her posture both relaxed and guarded.
Teris glanced between the two new members, inhaling deeply as though bracing himself. “Now that everyone’s here, let’s begin.” He cleared his throat, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. “As vice president, it’s my responsibility to ensure the council runs efficiently. Eva, Aria—you’ve both been assigned roles tailored to your skills.”
“Aria,” Teris began, turning to her, “you’ve been appointed as Operations Strategist. Your responsibilities include overseeing the academy’s infrastructure, with a particular focus on addressing the resource issues in the mixed-breed dormitories. Additionally, your Invoker/Enhancer talents make you the ideal candidate to develop training enhancements for the inter-faction showcase.”
Aria gave a short nod. “Understood.”
“And me?” Eva asked, her grin widening as she leaned forward.
Teris hesitated, his tail flicking. “You are the Events Coordinator. Your duties include planning and organizing all major academy events, from the showcase to seasonal galas and faction-related activities. Creativity is encouraged, but please adhere to the council’s guidelines.”
“Guidelines, huh?” Eva mused, tapping her chin. “We’ll see about that.”
“The inter-faction showcase is our most immediate concern,” Aelor said, his smooth tone cutting through the chatter. “It’s an opportunity to display the academy’s diversity and strength, but last year’s complaints about favoritism must be addressed. Mixed-breed representation will be critical.”
Rynn nodded, turning to Aria. “This one’s yours. Use your connections in the dorms to get participants—and make sure they’re ready to impress.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Aria replied curtly.
“And Eva,” Teris added, “you’ll handle the event logistics—location, themes, performances. The academy expects nothing less than excellence.”
Eva’s grin returned. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make it unforgettable.”
“Within reason,” Teris said firmly.
Eva waved him off. “Details, details.”
As the meeting wrapped up, Eva turned her attention back to Aria, her grin tinged with mischief. “You know, I still can’t figure you out. Invoker and Enhancer? It’s like watching fire and water try to share the same kettle. How do you pull it off?”
Aria’s crimson gaze met Eva’s unflinchingly. “Effort.”
“That’s all?” Eva pressed. “No secrets? No grand revelation?”
“Why does it matter to you?” Aria asked evenly.
“Because anomalies fascinate me,” Eva said, her voice dropping to a playful purr. “And you, Aria, are a very rare one. Let me run a few... experiments, and maybe we’ll both learn something.”
“I think I’ll pass,” Aria said, her tone sharpening.
Rynn watched the exchange, his smirk growing. “I don’t know, Aria. You might learn to enjoy Eva’s... unique methods.”
“Or,” Aria said, standing abruptly, “she could put her fascination to better use elsewhere. Maybe on herself.”
“Challenge accepted,” Eva replied, standing with a fluid grace. “Care to settle this on the training grounds?”
“Anytime,” Aria said.
Rynn clapped his hands together, standing with them. “Looks like we’ve got a show. Teris, Aelor—feel like spectating?”
The two exchanged looks, both resigned and exasperated. “Why do I feel this council will end in catastrophe?” Teris muttered.
“Because it probably will,” Aelor replied dryly, gathering his ledgers.
---
The training grounds of Ebonvale Academy were a marvel of modern magic and engineering. A vast expanse of reinforced stone, layered with protective wards, the grounds were designed to withstand the combined fury of elemental magic, brute force, and everything in between. Spectator seats circled the arena, and they were quickly filling with students eager to witness the impromptu duel between Eva Hold and Aria Velshade. Whispers of curiosity and bets placed on the outcome buzzed through the crowd like static.
At the center stood Aria, calm but focused, her crimson eyes locked on Eva, who wore her trademark mischievous grin. They were stark contrasts: Aria’s toned frame and sharp features radiated unyielding strength, while Eva, deceptively light on her feet, moved with a fluid, almost playful energy. Yet, beneath Eva’s casual exterior, subtle gleams of silver from her enchanted rings, amulets, and bracelets hinted at the arsenal of spells and augmentations she had carefully prepared.
Rynn sat with an air of superiority in the front row of the spectator seats, legs crossed and an arm draped over the back of the bench. “A bard versus an invoker,” he mused, loud enough for those around him to hear. “This will be interesting for about five seconds, until Eva realizes her songs don’t work on firestorms.”
“Don’t underestimate her,” Teris said, his tone clipped as he adjusted his glasses. “Eva’s bardic talents are unmatched in terms of control. She thrives on destabilizing more powerful opponents.”
“And turning them into clowns,” Aelor added dryly, his antlers gleaming in the light. “But I’ll admit, she’s innovative—if a little reckless.”
“Reckless is an understatement,” Teris muttered.
Rynn smirked, leaning forward as the combatants prepared themselves. “Reckless, chaotic, manipulative… she’ll fit right in with us.”
---
A horn sounded, signaling the start of the duel. Aria wasted no time, launching forward with a burst of enhanced speed, the stone beneath her cracking from the sheer force of her acceleration. She called forth a sphere of crackling red lightning in her right hand, ready to overwhelm Eva with raw elemental power.
But Eva was already moving. With a sharp gesture, her enchanted amulet flared to life, emitting a burst of blinding light that stalled Aria mid-charge. The Bard/Enchanter used the distraction to dance sideways, her cerulean eyes calculating Aria’s movements as she slipped a glowing ring onto her finger. A delicate hum filled the air—a bardic melody woven with enchantments that warped perception.
The blinding light from Eva’s enchanted amulet faded, but its impact was clear. Aria had slowed, her advance disrupted for only a fraction of a second—but that was all Eva needed. With a flourish, Eva slipped another enchanted ring onto her finger and raised her hand, her voice humming with arcane power as she began to sing. The melody wasn’t just music—it was bardic magic, a harmonic frequency that subtly warped Aria’s senses.
To the crowd, it seemed as though Eva was weaving an invisible harmony of sound, pulling at the edges of reality itself.
“Smart,” Rynn commented, his sapphire eyes glinting with amusement. “She’s playing to her strengths—crowd control and perception manipulation. It’s like making Aria fight in quicksand.”
Teris, ever the pragmatic observer, frowned as he watched Aria shake her head, visibly resisting the effects. “Eva’s not trying to overpower Aria—she knows better. She’s keeping her unbalanced, forcing mistakes.”
“And you wonder why she’s on the council,” Rynn added with a chuckle.
---
The effects of Eva’s manipulation didn’t last long. Aria’s Enhancer abilities flared to life, golden energy surging through her limbs as she grounded herself, dispelling the lingering confusion. With a sharp motion, she slammed her foot into the stone floor, sending a crackling wave of electric force toward Eva.
Eva barely evaded the strike, her enchanted anklet activating in a flash of silver light that boosted her speed. She darted to the side, her movements fluid as she strummed the strings of an arcane lyre strapped to her hip. The melody she played coalesced into shimmering orbs of magic that hovered above her—illusions designed to distract and disorient.
“Cute trick,” Aria said, her voice cold as she launched herself toward Eva again. Her fists crackled with energy, the sheer force of her momentum sending shockwaves rippling through the arena floor.
Eva spun, her illusions moving in tandem with her, creating a dizzying mirage of flickering images. The crowd roared as Aria’s strikes connected with nothing but shimmering light, the Bard’s cunning on full display.
“Eva’s slippery,” Aelor remarked, his tone calm as he observed the exchange. “She won’t go head-to-head unless she has no other choice.”
“Classic bard strategy,” Teris added, his tail flicking. “Delay, manipulate, and exhaust.”
Rynn smirked. “Let’s see how long she can keep dancing.”
---
Aria wasn’t one to be outmaneuvered for long. Her crimson eyes narrowed as she analyzed Eva’s movements, piecing together the rhythm of her illusions. With a sudden burst of enhanced speed, she closed the gap between them, ignoring the phantoms and targeting the one thing she knew was real—Eva herself.
The attack was swift, precise, and devastating. Aria’s electrified fist crashed down, and Eva only just managed to deflect it with a hastily activated enchanted bracer, the protective spell absorbing the brunt of the impact. Even so, the force sent Eva stumbling backward, the grin on her face faltering for the first time.
“I’m done playing,” Aria said, her tone like steel.
Eva responded by pulling a gleaming silver amulet from her belt, its surface etched with runes that glowed faintly as she channeled her bardic magic into it. With a sharp motion, she flung the amulet into the air, where it shattered into a mist of shimmering light. The arena filled with an eerie, melodic hum—a dissonant charm designed to disrupt focus and coordination.
Aria flinched but didn’t stop, her Enhancer abilities shielding her from the worst of the spell’s effects. With a roar, she summoned a blade of crackling energy and surged forward, each strike coming faster and harder than the last.
---
The spectators leaned forward, their cheers echoing through the arena as the duel reached its climax.
“Eva’s got guts, I’ll give her that,” Rynn said, his smirk widening. “But even she has to know she’s only delaying the inevitable. Aria’s got too much raw power to outlast.”
“And yet, she’s still standing,” Aelor pointed out, his gaze focused on the combatants. “That takes more than guts—it takes skill.”
“Or arrogance,” Teris muttered, though even he couldn’t deny the spectacle before them.
---
Eva’s movements grew more erratic as Aria closed in, her relentless attacks dismantling the bard’s defenses one by one. When Eva’s illusions finally faltered, revealing her true position, Aria seized the opportunity.
With a thunderous blow, Aria’s energy-infused strike shattered the last of Eva’s enchanted protections, sending her sprawling to the ground. The arena fell silent for a heartbeat as the dust settled.
Eva, breathless but grinning, looked up at Aria, who stood over her, her crimson eyes blazing. “Well,” Eva said, her voice hoarse but playful, “that was fun.”
Aria extended a hand, her expression softening slightly. “You lasted longer than I expected.”
Eva laughed as she took the offered hand, pulling herself to her feet. “What can I say? I aim to surprise.”
---
As the crowd erupted into applause, Rynn rose from his seat, clapping slowly. “Now that,” he said, his voice carrying over the noise, “was entertaining.”
Teris shook his head, gathering his papers. “Entertaining? It was reckless.”
“I’ll admit,” Aelor said, rising with a sigh, “it was more evenly matched than I expected.”
Rynn’s smirk grew. “That’s the beauty of chaos, Aelor. You never know what’ll happen next.”
