Scene 1

  The morning sun bathed the Valor Academy arena in warm light, but the air within was charged with a crackling tension. Students lined the edges of the training ground, their chatter hushed as they focused on the two figures at its center.

  Armilla Valor stood ready, flames flickering faintly around her fists. Her emerald eyes burned with determination, her stance loose yet purposeful—a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Across from her stood Zara, her rival and equal, whose serene composure belied the storm she carried within. Zara’s water vibration swirled gently at her feet, while the faint rumble of earth beneath her gave weight to her presence.

  Kael Folgath’s voice cut through the silence. “Remember: this isn’t just about power. It’s about precision, control, and learning from your opponent. Begin.”

  Zara moved first, her graceful fluidity a testament to the ancient martial arts of her homeland. Her hands traced a pattern in the air, and the ground beneath Armilla shifted, throwing her balance off for an instant. Zara capitalized on the opening, her water vibration surging forward in a swift arc.

  Armilla countered instinctively, flames bursting to life as she rolled to the side and unleashed a fiery strike. The water hissed and evaporated, leaving a veil of steam between them.

  “You’ve gotten faster,” Zara said, her voice calm, almost approving.

  Armilla smirked. “And you’ve gotten cocky.”

  She launched forward, flames roaring to life around her fists. Zara met her head-on, her movements precise and deliberate. Water lashed out in controlled strikes, each one deflecting or extinguishing Armilla’s flames. But Armilla pressed harder, her attacks growing more fluid and unpredictable with every clash.

  Zara shifted her stance, her feet grounding firmly as the earth beneath her pulsed with energy. With a swift motion, she redirected Armilla’s momentum, sending her skidding across the arena floor. The crowd murmured in awe, but Armilla was already on her feet, her grin widening.

  “Nice trick,” Armilla said, brushing dust off her sleeve. “But you’ll have to do better than that.”

  Zara’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “Let’s see how you handle this.”

  She moved seamlessly between water and earth, her vibrations intertwining like a dance. The ground rippled beneath her, creating fissures that forced Armilla to keep moving, while streams of water coiled like whips, striking with precision. Armilla’s flames roared brighter in response, her movements growing sharper, faster—as if the heat of the battle only fueled her instincts further.

  But Zara anticipated Armilla’s next move, trapping her with a sudden upheaval of earth. For a split second, Armilla faltered, caught off-guard by Zara’s precision. But instead of retreating, she twisted midair, her flames bursting outward in a wave that forced Zara to pull back. The crowd erupted in gasps as Armilla landed gracefully, already adapting to Zara’s counter.

  The two clashed again and again, each strike more precise than the last. Zara adapted to Armilla’s fiery unpredictability, her counters calculated and unerring. But Armilla, too, adapted—each misstep refining her movements; each clash sharpening her resolve. It was as if they were two fine blades, honing each other with every strike.

  The arena itself seemed to transform under their duel. Steam and dust filled the air, water cascading over scorched earth as fire and stone collided. The crowd was riveted, their breaths held as the two fighters pushed each other to their limits.

  Kael watched from the sidelines, his sharp gaze tracking every movement. “Good,” he murmured. “They’re pushing each other. That’s what I wanted to see.”

  Armilla saw her opening. She feinted left, drawing Zara’s water whip wide, and lunged forward with flames coiled around her fist. Zara responded instantly, the ground beneath her surging upward to block the strike. The resulting explosion of fire, water, and earth sent both fighters skidding back, the arena trembling under the force of their combined power.

  When the dust settled, Armilla was already on her feet, her breath steady, her emerald eyes locked on Zara with unwavering focus. Zara froze for a moment, her heart skipping at what she saw. Around Armilla’s emerald irises, a faint red glow shimmered like embers fanned by the wind. It was awe-inspiring—fiery and resolute—but unnerving all the same.

  Kael’s voice broke the moment. “Enough,” he said firmly, stepping forward with authority. “That’s enough for today.”

  The crowd erupted into applause as Armilla and Zara approached each other. Zara extended a hand, her expression calm but respectful, though the sight of that faint red glow lingered in her mind.

  “You’ve grown stronger,” Zara said simply, her tone steadier than she felt.

  Armilla grinned, taking her hand in a firm grip. “So have you. But next time, I’m winning.”

  “Next time,” Zara replied, her faint smile returning.

  As they parted, the murmurs of the crowd filled the air, but one figure in the shadows watched in silence. Her icy blue eyes followed Armilla’s every move, her silver hair catching the faintest glint of light.

  “She would control fire. How interesting,” she murmured before disappearing into the darkness.

  Scene 2

  The arena buzzed with murmurs as the students began to disperse. The air still carried the sharp tang of scorched earth and the faint scent of steam, remnants of Armilla’s match against Zara. As the crowd thinned, two familiar figures strode toward the center of the arena, their presence commanding immediate attention.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Leius and Versaya Valor, the eldest of the royal siblings, carried themselves with the effortless grace of royalty. Leius, the Crown Prince, moved with calm authority, his composed demeanor a quiet magnetism that naturally drew people in. His twin sister, Versaya, exuded a sharper energy, her piercing gaze sweeping the arena like a hawk in search of prey. Together, they were a striking pair, their reputation and poise enough to hush even the most excitable students.

  Leius clapped slowly as he approached Armilla, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Impressive, little sister. Though next time, you might want to ease up on the theatrics.”

  Versaya stopped beside him, arms crossed, her grin as wry as ever. “Or at least warn us, before you turn the arena into a sauna. Some of us weren’t prepared for the humidity.”

  Armilla rolled her eyes, brushing soot from her sleeve. “You two always have something to say, don’t you?”

  “It’s a gift,” Leius replied smoothly, his smile widening.

  “You call it a gift; I call it annoying,” Armilla muttered, though her lips twitched into a reluctant grin.

  The siblings began walking toward the academy halls, their teasing banter filling the space between their steps. Students along the path stepped aside, bowing slightly as the royal trio passed. The grandeur of their lineage was ever-present, but in this moment, it felt like a fleeting backdrop to their camaraderie.

  As the teasing faded, Leius exchanged a glance with Versaya. She nodded slightly, her expression growing more serious as she turned to Armilla.

  “There’s been talk,” Versaya began, her voice dropping lower, “of an assassin in Valor.”

  Armilla stopped mid-step, her brow furrowing. “An assassin? Why hasn’t anyone told me?”

  “Because it’s just a rumor for now,” Leius said. “But it’s credible enough to take seriously.”

  Versaya’s gaze flicked toward the shadows lining the academy walls, her posture subtly shifting as though anticipating danger. “They’re calling them the Ghost of Winter. If the stories are true, they’ve already taken out high-ranking officials in neighboring nations.”

  Armilla tried to hide the chill that crept up her spine, masking it with a scowl. “So what? You think they’re here for us?”

  “We don’t know,” Leius replied, his tone calm but firm. “But we’re not taking chances. Security’s already been increased across the Spire.”

  Versaya smirked, though the edge in her voice didn’t soften. “And that means you need to stop making yourself an easy target. Maybe light fewer things on fire. Just a thought.”

  Armilla glared at her sister, though her lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “You’re hilarious, really.”

  “It’s part of my charm,” Versaya replied with a shrug, though her gaze lingered on Armilla a moment longer, a flicker of protectiveness in her eyes.

  Their footsteps echoed as they entered the towering halls of Valor Academy, the tension between them palpable yet unspoken. From a shadowed alcove near the arena, Zara lingered, her sharp eyes following the trio.

  “An assassin,” she murmured to herself, her water vibration rippling faintly in her hands. “Maybe I should find them for myself.”

  Scene 3

  The night air was crisp, and the Valor Spire stood as a testament to the impenetrable might of the royal family. Hovering high above the academy, its towering structure was a fortress of vigilance, overseen by Headmaster General Lance Valor and his niece, Versaya. Every corner was secured, every entrance guarded—but for Armilla, none of that mattered now.

  She sat on her bed, staring at the flicker of flames in her palms, her mind replaying the day’s events. Sparring with Zara, the rumors of an assassin, her siblings’ teasing—it all swirled in her thoughts like embers caught in a whirlwind. But those thoughts scattered as a sudden chill crept through her room, extinguishing the small flame in her hand.

  Her head snapped to the window, her heart racing. A shadow moved in the corner of the room, and before she could react, a figure stepped forward. Moonlight glinted off silver hair, and icy blue eyes locked with hers.

  “Who’s there?” Armilla demanded, flames roaring back to life in her fists.

  The figure raised her hands in a gesture of peace. “Relax,” the woman said calmly, her voice cool and steady. “If I wanted to hurt you, you wouldn’t have seen me.”

  “Who are you? And how the hell did you get in here?” Armilla shot back, her voice wavering slightly, though her flames burned brighter. “This is the Valor Spire! It’s supposed to be the most secure place in the nation! My uncle oversees the guard. My sister personally handles security. You shouldn’t even be alive, let alone in my room!”

  The woman’s faint smile widened. “Was there some part of my entrance that didn’t scream ‘assassin’ to you?”

  Armilla froze, realization dawning. The rumors. The whispers. This was her.

  “You’re the one, then,” Armilla said, her flames flickering erratically. “The one everyone’s talking about.”

  “Glad to see my reputation precedes me.” The woman tilted her head slightly. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

  Armilla narrowed her eyes. “Then why are you?”

  “To challenge you,” the woman replied simply. “If I win, I’ll tell you why I came to Valor. If you win, I’ll answer any question you have. Think of it as… a friendly wager.”

  Armilla stared, torn between disbelief and her ever-burning pride. The Spire, the academy, her family’s security—none of it had stopped this woman. But beneath her shock was a flicker of something else. Excitement. This assassin—whoever she was—saw her as a challenge.

  “You’re insane,” Armilla said, but she stood, flames curling around her hands. “But fine. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  The duel began without warning. The assassin vanished, reappearing behind Armilla in a blur of speed. Before she could react, her legs were swept out from under her, and she hit the floor hard. The assassin straddled her, pressing a sharpened icicle to her cheek.

  “Looks like I win,” the woman said, her tone almost playful.

  Armilla blinked up at her, stunned, before a grin broke through. “One more try.”

  The assassin raised an eyebrow, but after a moment, she relented. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  The second round began, and this time, Armilla was ready. When the assassin moved, Armilla followed the faint shift of air, sidestepping the attack. She spun, flames igniting as she swept the woman’s legs and flipped her onto the ground. Before the assassin could react, Armilla straddled her, pinning her wrists with flames flickering in her palms.

  “Now,” Armilla said, leaning closer, her voice triumphant. “I have some questions.”

  For the first time, the assassin’s icy composure faltered. A faint blush crept into her cheeks as she smirked. “Let’s call it a draw.”

  Standing, she dusted herself off and gave Armilla an appraising look. “You’ve earned this much. Aside from my family, everyone calls me Lithia. My real name is Aina. But keep it to yourself.”

  Armilla blinked. “You’re trusting me with your real name?”

  Aina shrugged. “I have a feeling you won’t tell anyone. Besides, you’ve impressed me.”

  As she turned to leave, Armilla noticed her heading toward the balcony. “Wait, you’re not seriously going to leave, are you? What about my question?”

  Aina stopped, a genuine laugh escaping her lips—a soft, heartfelt sound that seemed almost out of place. She glanced back at Armilla, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

  “Again, love, ‘assassin.’ A fun fact for you: they also call me the Ghost of Winter. And as for your question, we’ll meet again. You’ve got time to come up with all sorts of questions.”

  Before Armilla could respond, Aina vanished in the blink of an eye, her speed too inhuman to process. Armilla stood frozen, the chill of the night air settling around her.

  She sank back onto her bed, staring at the flicker of flames in her hands.

  “The Ghost of Winter...” she muttered to herself, her voice barely above a whisper.

  To be continued…

  Elsewhere, Lithia moved silently through the shadowed halls of Valor Academy. The faint echo of her steps was swallowed by the dark, her silver hair glinting faintly in the dim light. She paused and looked up at the towering Valor Spire, her cold, blue eyes unreadable.

  "I thought it would be nothing. A fleeting curiosity," she murmured to herself. "But now… maybe, something more. I can have hope, right?"