[Evelyn’s POV]

The morning sun blazes across the arena as I step onto the packed earth. Aspis hums through our bond from Draven’s quarters, her warmth pulsing through my veins.

“I feel your heartbeat,” she whispers. “It races like thunder. Breathe, Evelyn. Slow and steady.”

“I’m trying,” I respond silently. “Everything feels different today. My body doesn’t feel like my own anymore. There’s so much power coiling through my muscles. It’s almost overwhelming.”

“It is yours. The strength flowing through you—that is my gift. You will learn to control it in time.”

“What if I can’t? What if I hurt someone badly out there? What if they see what I’ve become?” The panic seeps into my inner voice.

“You won’t hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Trust yourself. Trust what we share together.” Her voice soothes my hysteria.

I flex my fingers, marveling at the unfamiliar strength. My senses have sharpened overnight—colors brighter, sounds crisper.

“Territorial Combat,” Xavier announces, his voice carrying across the assembled crowd. “Defend your ground. Capture others. The top three competitors earn Junior Rider status and the right to seek dragon eggs from our mountain nests.”

Three spots. Eight competitors. Five of us won’t advance.

“You look different today, houseless.” The voice comes from my left. The man who snatched Khaira’s scale on the cliffs smirks at me with familiar arrogance. “Sleep well? You’ll need all your strength for what’s coming.”

“Well enough. You look nervous though. Afraid I might actually challenge you today?”

“Challenge me?” He laughs. “I’ve trained on this ground for years. You’re nothing but a lucky survivor. Today that luck runs dry, houseless.”

“Then prove it when the horn sounds. Show everyone what home-territory advantage really means.”

“Bold words from someone who scraped through every trial by the skin of her teeth.” The self-assured look on his face makes him almost ugly.

“Keep talking. We’ll see who’s still standing when the dust settles.”

“His taunts mean nothing,” Aspis murmurs through our bond. “Focus on what you feel inside. The power is yours now.”

“I know. I just hate his smug face so much.”

“Then wipe that expression away. Show him what we’ve become together.”

Xavier raises his horn. “Begin!” The sound pierces the morning air.

I move before thought can slow me down, legs carrying me toward the eastern wall with surprising speed. The arena sprawls before us—stone walls, elevated platforms, narrow passages.

The first competitor finds me near the stone arch—a woman with braided dark hair and a confident stance. “Surrender now,” she calls out. “Save yourself the humiliation of losing publicly.”

“I don’t think so. You’ll have to earn this victory.”

Her sword whistles through air where my throat was a heartbeat before. I duck and counter with instinct I didn’t know I possessed, my fist connecting with her solar plexus. She doubles over with a grunt.

“Yield,” I demand, blade at her throat. “Say it now.”

“I yield.” Her eyes widen with shock. “How did you move so fast? That’s not possible.”

“Apparently I’m full of surprises. Better luck next time.”

The horn sounds her elimination as I move deeper into the maze.

“What’s happening?” Aspis asks through our bond. “I feel your adrenaline surging through the connection.”

“One down. Four remain. Including the arrogant one from the cliffs.” I inform her, while keeping track for myself.

“Be careful. Don’t let anger make you reckless out there.” There’s more worry in her voice than my family showed me ever.

“I won’t be reckless. But I’m going to enjoy beating him.”

I find the second competitor near the northern wall—younger than me, moving cautiously with his weapon raised.

“You’re the houseless one,” he says, circling warily. “They say you barely survived the gauntlet yesterday. That you’re hiding something.”

“They say a lot of things. Most of it wrong. Are we going to fight or trade gossip?”

“I don’t want to fight you,” he admits, grip tightening on his sword. “I just need to place in the top three. My family expects me to advance.”

“Then yield now. Walk away with your dignity. There’s no shame in knowing when you’re outmatched.”

He shakes his head firmly. “I can’t. Not without trying first.”

“Then we fight. No hard feelings either way.”

“No hard feelings,” he agrees grimly, and attacks.

“Two down,” I tell Aspis silently.

“I feel your confidence growing. Good. Channel it into your movements.”

“Now,” Aspis whispers, and I reach for the light instinctively.

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