Page 35 of The Reckoning of Starlight

Sunlight stabbed Serenna’s eyes the moment they stepped into the open.

She blinked hard, vision flaring white as Ayla led them toward one of the four training rings cut into Centarya’s manicured lawns. Sand shifted beneath her boots, already warm from the rising sun. Magus and arch elf reavers filed along the perimeter—fifty of each at least, by Serenna’s quick count.

Ayla didn’t bother waiting for the initiates to finish assembling along the yard’s edge. She strode to the center of the ring, her guards remaining behind.

Taryn pressed in behind Serenna and Fenn, herding them forward to stand before Ayla.

“When we claim the new realms,” Ayla called, voice carrying across the ring, “you will face creatures who call themselves druids.”

She gestured at their wings without bothering to look.

“As you can see, they present challenges you haven’t trained for.”

Her hand closed around Serenna’s Starshard.

At Fenn’s shoulder, Taryn drew out his gem.

Power surged without her permission. Scales rippled across Serenna’s skin in obsidian plates, sparks crackling between her fingers.

Beside her, Fenn went rigid. Fire spiraled up his arms in whirling arcs, wings snapping wide. Heat bled into the sand beneath his boots, glass forming where it scorched.

“They’re nothing like the shamans in the north,” Ayla continued, “who can only manipulate the surrounding elements. Druids can conjure their dragon magic themselves.”

From a hidden fold in her armor, Ayla drew two Starshards and held them high.

“A reward,” she said. “One artifact to whoever brings fire to heel in the ring. One to whoever brings lightning down.”

Murmurs stirred through the gathered ranks.

“You know how scarce these gems are,” Ayla continued. “Only the worthy will carry one. Use it to supplement your power. Store a reservoir of Essence.”

Ayla lifted her chin and tapped Serenna’s Starshard at her throat.

Serenna’s knees buckled. Sand rushed up to meet her as the shard’s command forced her head toward the ground.

Fenn snarled, then dropped beside her. His wings folded tight and fire banked along his arms, still burning, but useless.

Ayla kept them displayed until Serenna could feel every greedy eye looking past the golden collar locked around her bent neck to the gleaming Starshards promised to whoever broke them first.

“Take him to the east ring,” Ayla said to Taryn. “I’ll keep her here.”

The gem scattered Serenna’s scales, stripping away the only protection she had left before Ayla’s grip finally loosened.

Ayla withdrew to the yard’s edge, her guards closing around her flank in a wall of polished plate.

Taryn hauled Fenn upright and shoved him toward the adjacent training field.

Serenna pushed to her feet as a magus stepped forward, an instructor she didn’t recognize. He lifted his hands, Essence coalescing in a bright, steady stream. His weight settled at center, his stance too open—the poise of someone who’d practiced violence only when menders waited at the edge of the ring.

Serenna glanced at Ayla, but no command came. Ayla merely crossed her arms and nodded for the magus to begin.

A test, then. To see what Serenna would do off the leash.

The magus struck first, a slicing arc of shadows whipping the air.

Serenna tucked her wings and threw herself sideways. Sand grated against her skin as she rolled and shot to her feet. Lightning surged to her fists, writhing and wild.

She hurled it.