“Today’s lesson will be taught by a pupil of mine,” Leolina spoke calmly as she led Cateline down the hallway. She, as usual, held her hands at the center of her torso, her steps as delicate as a feather floating in midair.

“Oh, but it is my first lesson. Surely, I would have thought—”

“Thought wrong, dear,” she sighed and turned to the right, opening a door for the two of them, “I am here to guide. In little circumstances do I teach.”

The Princess formed her mouth into an ‘o’, her eyes falling onto a set of tables circled around a fountain. As she approached it, her fingers outlined symbols at each central point of the circle, the runes glowing with the touch of her fingertips. A shock of energy rushed through her skin, a tingling sensation residing on the bumps of her skin as she yanked her hand away. This earned a slight chuckle from Mistress Leolina, clearly amused by Cateline’s childish mistake.

“Aiora will be here shortly. Please restrain from touching any more runes until you know better, Princess.”

Her lips pursed in a thin line as she watched Leolina walk out, that snicker never leaving her lips. Glancing down at the glowing symbols, Cateline kneeled and watched as little sparks of green embers bounced off, evaporating into the air as soon as it left the stone border. With a shaky sigh, she took her seat and awaited the arrival of this beloved pupil of Leolina.

Although the Princess hadn’t been kept waiting long, her patience was wearing thin. Cateline tapped her nails on the old wooden desk, shifting in the uncomfortable seat anxiously. It wasn’t often Royalty was kept waiting—in fact, it was typically her making others wait. Her eyes darted to the doors as a woman rushed in, her eyes wide and her short legs practically tumbling over each other in an attempt to reach the desk.

“I am so sorry; Genovia woke me a tad late.”

“Genovia?”

“One of the workers in this academy. They often have to wake me—I’ve been told I am quite the heavy sleeper.”

Cateline raised a brow and hummed, pinching the inner corner of her cheek in efforts to stifle any criticism. Back home, she would simply tell her to get better servants. But, unfortunately, she was not home, and her royal status was hardly a feat within these walls.

Taking her lack of response as a gesture to continue, the stumbling girl set some books down on the table and forced a smile, “I am Aiora. Been attending this academy since I was roughly sixteen and have decided to stay on to continue learning and help Mistress Leolina wherever I can. You’re Cateline, correct?”

Cateline eyed the short girl up and down before nodding her head, “How old are you now? You still look quite young.”

“I am eighteen!”

The Princess watched Aiora bounce with her words, enthusiasm leaking out of her pores in response to Cateline’s otherwise unamused efforts. She was not used to being placed in positions where she had to show interest. Not a moment in her life did she have to pretend she was anything but displeased—this affected her more than she could have ever imagined.

“Anyways,” Aiora sighed and composed herself as she opened one of the books she had stacked on the table, “let us start off simple, as I know this is your first day. What is it you know?”

Cateline opened her mouth a few times to respond, but with each breath towards reply came a choke of silence. Considering the fact that she had been forced by her parents for so many years to conceal her powers, she had never explained what she knew she was capable of. To be honest, she was unsure she knew much of anything.

“Not so sure. I’ve only used my magic in bouts of rage or pent up emotions.”

“I see,” Aiora mumbled with her lip tucked between her teeth. She flipped through the pages of the massive encyclopedia of what Cateline assumed was spells. Curiosity began to consume the girl so much that she lifted out of her seat slightly to peak at the pages, growing more exasperated with the lack of information. With a huff, she fell back into her seat and crossed her arms.

“Each day you will be working with a few different gifted and experienced scholars at this academy. Once we get to the fun stuff, the fighting, you will get to interact with some students who are a bit more practiced than you. For now, though, we begin with fundamentals. This body of water will serve as our source, this is what we will manipulate today.”

“Sounds easy enough, the only times I’ve used magic it has been revolved around ice. This is just the melted state of it,” Cateline whispered aloud, although it was mostly to herself.

“Hopefully, we can get you to master some other elements as well, may that be through your own energy or through the influence of objects.”

Cateline nodded and stood when Aiora waved her hand upwards. On the northern side of the circle stood the girl, and on the southern side stood the Princess. Aiora began to walk her through shifting the particles of water with her mind, taking note to concentrate on that familiar feeling that grew in the pit of her stomach.

“Repeat after me,” Aiora breathed calmly, “Sicut aqua ad lucem, inducere ad lucem.”

With a certain unease in her tone, Cateline attempted to repeat the unknown spell. Every time she had ever used a spell to help cast her magic, it had been instinctual. It was always in the heat of the moment. She did not know a lick of Latin, and oftentimes she did not know what she was saying in her spells. Attempting to repeat these spells without an instinctual desire to live and protect those around her made this task all too daunting. With each repetition, though, that feeling inside of her grew stronger, and her tone grew more confident. Aiora smiled at the success, watching as the water began to spiral upwards into a little funnel, spinning around the fountain haphazardly. With each chant Cateline allowed that power to soar through her, making the funnel grow larger with each breath. As soon as Aiora waved her hand, and the chanting ceased, the funnel collapsed back into the water in a crash. Cateline watched the waves reach over the edges of the fountain, rolling onto the floor in a slippery mess.

“Very good—I can tell you harness water well. Let us see if you can channel fire, though.”

With a grimace, Cateline watched Aiora scurry back to the book and eventually land on her desired page. The Princess walked over to her when prompted, peering over her shoulders to read over the page as well. On it rested tiny, antiquated drawings of fire and different Latin spells. Her fingers landed on the one at the top, the only English words reading: To channel the fire within, one must unleash each breath of heat into existence. Only then will the flames transmit.

“What does this mean?”

“Fire is a little trickier than ice,” she said quietly, “with water and ice, you home in on your need to protect and defend. With fire, however, it requires a little more chaos. Fire is an uncontrollable force, once it's unleashed it’s much harder to control. We need to start slow with this one.”

Cateline hummed, returning to her desk after Aiora rested a plank of wood on it. Her instructions were simple yet formidable, she was to set the plank of wood on fire with nothing but her energy. No spells, no chants, just her mind. She had been able to use ice easily without the use of spells, but fire was an element Cateline never felt the need to take advantage of. It scared her.

“Dive deep, Cateline. You need to focus in on every ounce of anger and frustration within you. Use this emotion to bring out the fire within.”

Cateline closed her eyes and placed her fingers on the wood, her bottom lip puckered into a pout as she tried to grasp onto anything that truly bothered her. There was not much that could bother her, she was royalty and could easily get whatever she wanted the second the whim came to mind. One thing that did drive a stake into her heart, though, was the way her parents threw her out so quickly after saving them from that Elven warlock. That was it. That was what she needed to hold onto.

So, she did. The pout of her lip began to tremble, and that feeling began to arise from the pit of her stomach. With each breath, her fingertips began to grow warm. As her heart began to ache, and that agonizing homesick feeling began to take over, her extremities radiated red. Whatever words of encouragement Aiora was uttering was being muted from her state of concentration, the warm feeling beginning to sting her skin. What would be a release of power, had it been ice, was simply an excruciating burn that made her feel like the skin of her hands was peeling off. She let out a curse, lifting her hand away from the wood and opened her eyes. A tear stung at the corner of her eye, partially due to the mild sting from a failed attempt, but mostly due to approaching such raw and unanswered emotion.

“That was a fantastic first attempt,” Aiora whispered, although her expression read disappointment. She clearly had high hopes for the Princess, but for possibly the very first time in her life, Cateline had failed and nobody could tell her otherwise.

“I think I’m done for the day,” Cateline sniffled and rubbed her hands on the soft fabric of her dress.

“I’m sorry, but if we want you to be on track for the fundamentals—”

“Don’t defy me!”

Aiora’s jaw dropped, and her brows furrowed in disgust, “Defy? What are you, royalty? Don’t think of yourself so highly, Cateline.”

The Princess frowned, shaking her head at the girl’s lack of respect, “I am.”

“You are?”

“Royalty.”

Aiora let out a cackle, clearly amused by whatever joke Cateline was pulling, “What are you now, a Jester? Royalty?”

Cateline crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, turning on her heel to exit the room, “Think not so highly of yourself, Aiora. I won’t forget how you’ve treated me.”

Her cackles were cut short by the slam of the door as Cateline exited, making way to the courtyard to clear her mind. Typically, the Princess rarely had to deal with such defiance and disrespect. At home, everybody and their mother’s mother treated her with respect. They treated the entire family with regard. Being in an environment where it was normal not to made her jaw clench and her palms ball into fists. Cateline was very sure she would never be taught by that wench again; she’d make sure of it.