A few weeks had passed, and life had settled into a new, comfortable rhythm. The sun rose and set, painting the sky with its usual mix of colors. Every morning, Navika and Minerva were up before dawn. Navika could be found in the garden, her black sword moving like an extension of herself—graceful and focused. The shadowy clone of her sword, which she had learned to create, followed her like a ghostly echo, mirroring every move she made.
Meanwhile, Minerva was in the courtyard, her hands glowing softly with reddish light as she practiced her magic. She created shimmering energy barriers and tested them by launching magical attacks at them. Then she would switch to healing spells, making nearby flower petals glow with fresh life.
