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PREVIOUSLY...
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Unconscious and on the brink of death, Suri's sickness had become dire. Desperate not to repeat previous folly's, Azura—alongside Lilja—took Suri to the healing bath beneath the school though its use is forbidden without Palmira's consent. The healing waters worked, but Erasmus caught them in the act, promising not to tell Palmira as an apology to Azura for previous transgressions.

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I don't leave Suri's side as we go to class the next day. I keep constant vigil, wary of her sickness coming back. But her golden skin is flush with colour, the sickly pallor that had plagued her for days now completely gone in just a few hours.

I notice Lilja watching over Suri the same way, but Suri doesn't seem to mind the attention. I can't blame her, she did nearly die.

But as we enter the ballroom that's filled with commotion from the other students, my gut plummets when I understand why. Palmira watches over the gathering students, a pale fur draped around her shoulders, contrasting her midnight skin. Her long dreadlocks are gathered into a tie, displaying the many jewels that glimmer along her ears. But her eyes—eyes of glowing embers and the abyss between the stars—settle on us as we enter the room and I know why she's here.

Erasmus moves in front of me before I can consider running away. "I need to talk to you," he murmurs and a muscle in my jaw flutters.

He told her. He betrayed you.

I follow him to the edge of the room, beneath the arched windows of stained glass, my gloved fingers twitching, eager to grip my blade.

"Mira's here for Suri," he says, his voice low as his gaze flicks to where Suri idles a distance away, watching our conversation with her dark brows drawn together. "To assess Suri's skills herself. Suri's never excelled at combat so you need to make sure she does today."

It dawns on me then that Erasmus didn't betray us. No, he's trying to help us. I want to ask him why, but the urgency in his gaze as it settles back on me holds my tongue.

"You can take a hit. I'm asking you to take a couple for her."

I expel a breath, looking over my shoulder at Suri. I've never seen her use her magic for offensive purposes, not like Erasmus did, and letting Suri push me around a little won't appease Palmira.

I glance back at Erasmus, the sleeves of his tunic rolled up to reveal the faint markings that litter his skin. I focus on the one he used on me in the forest, branding it into my mind before I nod. "I won't let Palmira kick her out. I'll do what's necessary."

When I turn back to Suri and Lilja, I find that Ari has joined them, already with a wooden sword in hand that he leans on.

"I was just pointing out how remarkable Suri's recovery is," he says, his brow quirked as he looks at me.

"It's a miracle," I drawl back before turning to Suri. "Palmira is here for you."

"I figured," she replies, wrapping her arms around herself. "I guess I should start thinking about what to pack for my journey through the Midland."

"That's not going to happen." My voice is as hard as granite as I grab her wrist.

"Azura, I can't please her," she argues, shaking her head. But I'm not listening to her as I yank up my sleeve, take the blade from my waistband, and slice through my wrist. She gasps, trying to pull her arm from my grip but I hold on. I swirl my finger in the blood that wells on my arm, feeling Ari shift at my side to block us from view.

"You're powerful, Suri," I tell her, sliding my blood along her skin. "But if you don't use everything you have at your disposal, then Palmira will throw you out. Or worse; have Vera kill you." I trace a circle along her bronzed skin, keeping the sygil I saw on Erasmus' arm clear in my mind. "You're going to fight me and you're going to show everyone in this fucking place that you have every right to be here." I pull back when the sygil is done and I'm satisfied. Blood soaks my sleeve as I tug it back into place. "Use it and don't worry about hurting me." I look into her wide eyes and flash her a feral grin. "I can take it."

"I really don't think this is a good idea."

"And I really don't care," I tell her. I raise my blade and lick my blood from the wicked edge, Suri's eyes widening another fraction as she follows the movement before I tuck the weapon back into my pants with the familiar metallic taste tainting my tongue. I turn away from her and move towards the weapon racks, keeping my chin raised as I did when I first strolled into the warehouse of street rats and faced Jile. Proving myself is something I've had to do before, but I've never had to make certain someone else was deemed worthy.

This needs to be done and it needs to be done well. Palmira needs to be convinced that Suri is strong enough to be part of this twisted school. Which means I might not be the only one to get hurt today and that shoves a serrated blade into my insides.

I grab one of the wooden swords from the rack, the smooth hilt and weight of it a familiar thing now. My fingers ache as I clench it, willing my nerves to be still. But I feel Palmira's gaze on the back of my neck, digging into my skin like a dozen needles. She's pushed us here, the least I can do is give her a show.

I turn around, other kids already beginning to spar, trying to impress Palmira, but her gaze is set solely on me, observing every shift I make, waiting for me to unravel. I won't give her the satisfaction.

"Are you going to hold back this time?"

I whip my head to the side, not having noticed Ari sidle up to me. "I'm not holding back," I reply.

Ari tilts his head, his gaze travelling to my throat where my loose shirt reveals my scar. "No one who survives getting their throat cut is beaten as easily as I beat you."

I raise my hand, covering the scar. "You know nothing about me."

Ari shakes his head and sighs. "Whatever you say." He pauses, his warm brown eyes travelling to Suri. "I want to thank you for doing this for her. I don't know many people that would volunteer to do this."

"What? Volunteer to get my arse handed to me and possibly get a few broken ribs too?" I snort at his exasperated expression. "It just goes to show you don't know much about me. I enjoy doing this sort of thing, it reminds me of home." I turn away with those words, taking my practice weapon with me.

No home. Home is gone with him.

The voices are right. I don't have a home, not one that I can remember anyway. The words I spoke to Ari aren't a lie though. The only home I've ever had is the frequent embrace of pain. Isn't that just what a home is? A familiar place one returns to, where they feel welcome?

As I approach Suri, I'm not nervous about the pain she'll inflict upon me. My brother taught me how to endure it. I'm nervous what toll this will have on Suri. She's not a fighter, she's not like me; able to hurt others while wearing a smile.

She's soft. She's weak.

No, she's not that either. Not being willing to inflict pain doesn't make her weak, it makes her stronger than me. Pain is easy; it's everything else that's hard.

"Are you ready, Suri?" I ask as we face each other, the dried blood on her arm barely visible against her bronzed skin.

Suri shakes her head, gripping her practice weapon in both hands but keeping it lowered. "I don't want to do this."

"You don't have a choice." I glance towards Palmira with my lips pressed together, her gaze still on us. She most likely suspects how we healed Suri but she can't prove it. Now she's just looking for an excuse to exile the girl. I plan to make her work for it. "I suggest you strike first."

Suri looks down at her weapon like it might morph into a snake and bite her, her knuckles whitening with the grip she has on it. Her chest heaves, each breath she takes deep but clear of the illness that inundated her.

I wait for her to realise the severity of this situation. Either she fights now, or she dies a violent death in the Midland.

She raises her weapon and my lips curl in a small smile.

Suri's first strike is tentative, testing the waters of this battle, and I hit it away with ease before circling her, the clack of the wood resounding between us. She comes again, swiping in a way that leaves her defenceless. I don't take the bait, instead I dodge her attack and send her a scolding look.

"You can do more than that, Suri."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Stop worrying about pointless things," I rebuke before shifting forward, my feet light as I swing up, hitting away Suri's weapon before slamming my shoulder into her chest. She stumbles back with a grunt, barely keeping her feet beneath her. "Use the sygil."

Suri shakes her head, grips her weapon in both hands and holds it up. "No. I won't use my magic to hurt people."

I huff out a breath and attack with two overhead slashes in quick succession. She hits away the first and retreats from the other, taking a defensive stance.

She won't prove anything to Palmira like this.

"Do you want to go to the Midland, Suri? Is that it?"

Suri shakes her head, her hold on her weapon wobbling.

"Do you want to be surrounded by demons every moment? Do you want them to feast on your corpse?"

Her face twists, but she still doesn't attack.

I push harder, squashing the guilt that rises up in defiance to my words.

I should have been harder on Dax, maybe he would be alive now if I hadn't treated him like he was fragile. I can't repeat the past.

"You know Lilja will follow you, right? Her death will be on your hands. All because you didn't try hard enough."

That seems to get through to her. Her lips part and her skin pales as her gaze flicks to Lilja who watches this fight with concern shining in her eyes.

"Don't damn your sister along with you, Suri."

She's weak. She won't survive.

She's not like you.

Not like me? That's a good thing. If she were like me, she'd go out into the Midland and toss her sister to the demons just to make it through.

You think so lowly of yourself, little flame.

I let you die, brother.

I don't see the weapon as my vision blurs with memories of the white, and I'm only brought back to the present by the splintering pain that bursts through my skull.

Staggering back, I shake my head to dispel the cobwebs, and look to Suri's face flushed with anger. I touch my temple and lower them to see the wet sheen of blood glistening on my glove.

I tilt my head as I look at Suri and offer her a nod. "First blood goes to you. Well done."

Her throat bobs and she lifts her weapon again.

I spring at her and jab the tip of my weapon into her ribs. She twists away, coming around with a swipe aimed at my thigh that I barely dodge.

Now she understands. Now she fights for the survival of her sister, not just herself.

She's not like me. She's not so selfish.

We trade blows, the loud clack of our wooden weapons the only communication that passes between us. I meet her every attack, going on the defensive to allow her to show Palmira that she can fight, and can fight well. She's light-footed and quick thinking, her only downfall is she's unwilling to harm. In a real fight, it'll get her killed.

Suri cries out when my elbow connects with her mouth, causing blood to drip to the scuffed marble and for an audible gasp to leave Lilja from where she watches.

"Use the sygil, Suri," I tell her as I glance at Palmira who has her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed.

Suri huffs and shakes her head, pressing her hand to her side with a wince.

I grit my teeth, the impatience that Palmira displays making my fingers tighten on the training weapon, desperation beginning to cling to my insides.

These weapons aren't meant to cause too much harm, but if wielded with enough force they can certainly do some damage. And I plan on it. Either Suri realises this world is cruel and unjust and uses her sygil, or she gets a concussion. I'll let her decide.

I lower my stance, settle my breathing, and grip my weapon in both hands. Then I burst forward, sprinting towards her. Suri's eyes widen and her lips part. I leap, the weapon raised, and use my momentum to bring the weapon down towards her head in a vicious blow.

Suri's wooden sword clatters to the ground and she thrusts her hands out. The sygil ignites on her arm, the blood shining like rubies under the sun, and it's the only warning I receive before her power crashes into me like a pile of bricks.

The breath whooshes from my lungs, the air whistles in my ear, and I'm thrown away from her with flailing arms and a cry being torn from my lips. I'm not in the air for long before I collide with the stained glass of the ballroom. Jagged pieces fall around me and cut through my clothes as I drop to the ground, my skull cracking on the marble as glass rains down around me.

Suri's scream is the last thing I hear before the dark bathes me in its welcoming blanket.