Combat class was at dawn.
The sky outside the training hall's narrow windows was still bruised with violet. Cold air clung to the stone floors as if the building itself hadn't woken up yet. Most of the Vale students were already in formation by the time I got there — dressed in their dark combat robes, expressions blank, eyes forward.
I lingered at the back, unsure of where to stand until Cam caught my sleeve and tugged me into place beside her. She tossed me a practice staff.
"Don't grip too tight," she murmured. "They'll call it desperation."
I blinked at her. "They don't even tell us what we're doing?"
"They expect you to already know." She shrugged. "House Vale doesn't do babysitting."
The instructor stepped forward. She was tall and wiry, built like she'd never lost a fight in her life. Her eyes scanned us like we were already disappointing her.
"No magic," she said coldly. "No enchantments. No shields. Today, we test the body. The will."
She paused just long enough for tension to settle into our bones.
"Form the circle."
Everyone moved smoothly, stepping back to form a large ring on the cold floor. Cam subtly nudged me when I hesitated again. I followed, heart thudding, sweat already prickling at my neck.
"First match," the instructor called. "Lucien Vale."
He stepped forward without hesitation, posture as sharp as his name.
Of course he was first.
His opponent — a muscular boy from House Hollow — tried to look confident. But I could feel the shift in the air as soon as Lucien moved. No wasted motion. No breath out of place. Just a blur of precise steps, a crack of wood against bone, and the boy was on the floor.
It wasn't flashy. It was clinical.
Lucien didn't even look down. He walked off as if the match had bored him.
I'd been holding my breath.
"Still think you're dreaming?" Cam whispered.
Before I could answer, the instructor's eyes cut toward me.
"You. Step forward."
Every head turned. My spine locked straight, like I'd been electrocuted. Cam gave me a small, sharp nod — not encouragement, but solidarity.
I stepped into the ring.
My opponent was a girl with a long silver braid and knuckles already scarred from practice. She sized me up with something between amusement and boredom.
We bowed. I tried to match her fluidity, but I felt stiff and awkward.
Then the match began.
She struck first. Fast.
I barely brought my staff up in time. The crack of wood against wood jarred my arms, sent pain vibrating through my bones.
I stumbled, not because I was weak — but because I wasn't ready. Not for the force. Not for the pressure. Not for the eyes watching.
She circled me like she'd done this a hundred times. I gritted my teeth and tried to remember what Cam had said — don't grip too tight.
She came at me again. I dodged, barely. Not skill — instinct. Something in me pulled me back at the last second.
Again.
Again.
I was losing — obviously. But I wasn't down. Not yet.
Each hit she landed left bruises I'd feel tomorrow. But somewhere between the ache and the panic, I started to see things — not with magic, just... patterns. Timing. Movement. The way she always leaned a little too far on her left when she swung.
The next time she lunged, I ducked. She missed by inches.
That earned a small sound from the crowd — not applause, not shock. Just... surprise.
She came again. I blocked her strike with both hands, nearly lost my footing — but I stayed standing.
The instructor called it. "Enough."
I was still on my feet.
My opponent looked frustrated. She bowed stiffly and stalked off without a word.
I didn't win.
But I survived.
Cam caught me when I stepped out of the ring. "You didn't freeze," she said, gripping my shoulder. "That's better than most."
"I almost threw up," I muttered.
She smirked. "Almost doesn't count."
The instructor walked past us. "You'll need training. But you're not hopeless."
That was the closest thing to praise I'd gotten all day.
We left the combat hall in silence. My arms ached. My ribs throbbed. But something inside me had settled. Not confidence — not yet. But proof.
I could survive here.
And maybe survival was a good place to start.
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