"Elyra Vael has been the most outstanding candidate in this competition. Give her a round of applause."
The headmistress's voice carried effortlessly across the hall.
Applause followed.
Measured.
Controlled.
Elyra stepped back into position, her expression unchanged, as though the praise had been expected.
Then the headmistress stepped forward once more.
"Tomorrow," she said coldly, "you will all leave for the palace."
A ripple of gasps spread through the remaining candidates.
Samara's eyes narrowed slightly.
That doesn't add up.
At the beginning, three competitions had been announced.
Six candidates were meant to be chosen.
Yet ten remained.
Her gaze shifted briefly across the line.
Stacey stood beaming, barely containing her excitement. Tessa, as expected, remained composed, her expression unreadable.
"You heard me correctly," the headmistress continued, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "You may spend the remainder of the day as you wish. There is a village nearby—if you require anything, you may go."
A pause.
"But you are to return before nightfall. We leave at first light."
Samara's thoughts sharpened.
There it is.
They're not done with us yet.
The final selection… won't happen here.
It'll happen out there.
In the village.
Or on the way.
Maybe, Adrian's voice slipped into her mind, smooth and indifferent.
Samara didn't respond.
The headmistress turned and left, servants following closely behind her in perfect formation.
Power.
Unquestioned.
Unchallenged.
The moment she was gone, the tension broke.
Stacey rushed toward Samara immediately.
"We should leave for town right now!" she said, her excitement spilling over as she grabbed Samara's hand. "I've been waiting for this—I want to see everything!"
"I'm not going," Samara replied calmly. "I don't have money."
"You don't have to worry about that."
The voice came smoothly.
Too smoothly.
Samara turned.
Elyra stood before them.
Close.
Closer than before.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," she said, her tone gentle, her expression soft—almost angelic. "I thought perhaps I could join you."
Her gaze shifted to Samara.
"I have more than enough coins," she continued, a faint smile touching her lips. "I wouldn't mind sharing."
The offer hung in the air.
Too convenient.
Too deliberate.
Samara studied her.
Carefully.
She didn't like Elyra.
Not her composure.
Not her timing.
And definitely not her interest.
But,
Samara's gaze flickered briefly.
Coins.
For a moment, her thoughts shifted.
Practical.
Simple.
Useful.
She could tolerate many things—
If there was something to gain.
A faint smile tugged at her lips.
"...Fine."
As they made their way toward the estate gates, the atmosphere felt different.
Quieter.
Heavier.
The earlier tension from the competition hadn't quite faded, it lingered, settling beneath the surface like something waiting to unfold.
Samara walked slightly ahead, her pace steady, her gaze forward. Stacey followed beside her, still buzzing with excitement, while Elyra moved at an even, measured pace, neither leading nor trailing.
As if she belonged wherever she chose to stand.
A figure stepped into their path.
Althea.
He stood near the archway leading out of the estate, dressed as usual, composed to the point of seeming untouchable. The soft daylight caught against his features, giving him a calmer, almost human warmth that contrasted with his usual reserved demeanor.
He inclined his head slightly.
"You're leaving already?" he asked, his voice smooth, carrying just enough curiosity to feel intentional.
Elyra's lips curved into a gentle smile, the kind that could easily disarm most people.
But Samara spoke first.
"Yes."
Her tone was simple.
Direct.
Althea's gaze shifted briefly to her, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary—as if measuring something unseen—before he spoke again.
"In that case," he said, "you may want to take horses from the stables. The village is farther than it appears."
A pause.
"Unless you don't mind the walk."
Elyra's smile deepened ever so slightly.
"Thank you," she replied, her voice soft, perfectly measured. "We'll take your advice."
Samara said nothing, but she had already made her decision.
Without waiting, she turned toward the stables.
The others followed.
The stables were calm, almost detached from the rest of the estate. The scent of hay lingered in the air, mixed with leather and the faint warmth of the animals. Horses shifted in their stalls, their quiet movements grounding the moment.
Samara's gaze moved across them once.
That was all she needed.
She stepped forward and selected one without hesitation, her hand brushing lightly along its neck before she mounted in a single, fluid motion.
Effortless.
Familiar.
Elyra watched briefly before choosing her own, mounting with a grace that mirrored her composure.
Behind them, Stacey hesitated.
Her excitement dimmed slightly.
"I… don't know how to ride," she admitted, her voice smaller now, almost embarrassed.
Elyra turned toward her, her expression softening—not with pity, but with quiet assurance.
"Then ride with me."
No hesitation.
No judgment.
Stacey's face brightened instantly as she climbed up behind her, holding on carefully, though her earlier excitement quickly returned.
"Thank you!" she said, unable to hide her relief.
A stable hand approached, offering directions to the village. Samara listened without interrupting, committing every detail to memory. Elyra nodded along, already understanding.
Once the instructions were given, silence settled again.
A brief moment.
Still.
Then
Samara adjusted her grip on the reins.
With a subtle movement, she urged the horse forward.
It responded instantly.
Elyra followed soon after, steady and controlled, Stacey holding on behind her.
The estate gates loomed ahead.
Slowly
They opened.
The world beyond stretched out before them, unfamiliar yet waiting.
Samara didn't look back.
Didn't hesitate.
She rode forward, the rhythm of the horse steady beneath her, the path unfolding ahead.
Whatever awaited them in the village.
She would face it on her own terms.
As they moved farther from the estate, the road narrowed.
Tall, towering trees rose on either side, their branches stretching overhead until they nearly blocked out the sky. The forest grew denser the deeper they went, shadows pooling between the trunks, the light thinning into faint, shifting strands.
The air felt… different.
Quieter.
Too quiet.
Even the horses seemed to notice, their steps slowing slightly against the dirt path.
Stacey shifted behind Elyra, her grip tightening unconsciously around her waist.
"This place feels… strange," she murmured.
Elyra didn't respond immediately. Her posture remained composed, her hands steady on the reins, but her gaze had sharpened, scanning the trees with quiet attention.
Samara rode slightly ahead, her eyes moving just as carefully.
Watching.
Listening.
Measuring.
Then
A sound.
Faint.
Unnatural.
From the right.
All three of them turned at once.
The forest remained still.
Too still.
Elyra's voice broke the silence, softer now, but edged with something more serious.
"I don't like this," she said. "We should move faster."
Samara didn't argue.
She adjusted her grip on the reins, her body shifting slightly as she prepared to urge the horse forward
Then
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
Too fast.
Too precise.
Samara's instincts screamed.
"Run—!"
But the word barely left her lips before—
Thwack.
A force struck.
Her horse lurched violently beneath her.
The sudden impact threw everything off balance.
Samara's grip slipped.
The world tilted.
And then
She hit the ground.
Hard.
The air was knocked from her lungs as the impact echoed through her body, the rough earth scraping against her skin. For a split second, her vision blurred, the world spinning just slightly out of place.
Ahead, hooves thundered.
Elyra didn't hesitate.
The moment the warning came, she had already acted,her horse surging forward at full speed, Stacey clinging tightly behind her.
They didn't look back.
Samara lay still for just a fraction of a second longer, forcing air back into her lungs, her mind already snapping back into focus.
An arrow.
Not a warning.
Aimed.
Deliberate.
Her eyes sharpened as she pushed herself up, ignoring the dull ache spreading through her body.
The forest was no longer silent.
Now.
It was watching.