The sharp, cold edge of winter was beginning to settle over the high mountain passes surrounding the Nightshade Citadel.
By late afternoon, the sunlight transformed into a pale blue hue, casting long, sharp shadows across the stone floor of the upper courtyard. I had spent the past three hours with Beta Freya practicing high-speed evasive maneuvers—stepping into an opponent’s guard, turning their own momentum against them, and disarming them before they could recover their footing.
I was out of breath, my tunic damp with sweat despite the frigid mountain air, but my movements felt faster, more fluid, and far more deliberate than they had just a week ago.
"Better," Freya said, catching her breath as she sheathed her wooden training blade. "Your footwork is clean, Aria. You’re no longer w
