The water splashed against the smooth, time-worn wooden boards. Natalin grimaced, dropping her cloth down onto the surface after it, and got back to work.

She was the Tideborn. She clung to the thought as she scrubbed as hard as she could, her hands screaming their complaint and her shoulders beginning to join in. She was Ondria’s Ascended. Its guardian. Favored of Efren. Mistress of water.

Why, exactly, was she bent over in one of the temple’s many guest rooms, washing the floors like a scullery maid?

She had chores just like anyone else living in the temple. Gerd was completely rigid on that much, unwilling to give an inch. Normally, it didn’t bother her.

Normally, they wouldn’t have been cleaning for two weeks straight.

True to his word, Gerd had resumed his bellowing as soon as whatever distraction Efren had dreamed up slipped past. Natalin had expected the old diviner to tire himself out, after a little while. He’d risen to the challenge instead. She was fairly certain she’d have been roped into cleaning the temple one way or another - It being her punishment for disobedience just made it impossible for her to argue the matter.

“You missed that corner, girl,” someone said from behind her. Natalin glanced up, finding Remete standing with her arms crossed, a few paces back at the corner of the room’s single, bare bedframe. Her eyes flicked towards the offending spot.

Natalin hesitated, her hand falling still. “I’m not done.”

“No, you’re not. So stop daydreaming, and get back to it. Wind and wave, I’ll not have your laziness leave the Everdeep’s home lacking. Not in front of guests.” The old woman’s eyes were a deep brown verging on black, her white hair cropped to her earlobes. There wasn’t so much as a shred of humor lurking in the depths of her gaze as she glared down at the girl.

“I’m not daydreaming,” Natalin muttered, the words soft enough that even she didn’t hear them, but the headswoman was already sweeping past. Her skirts trailed across the wet floorboards, leaving dark streaks on the wood.

Natalin wrinkled her nose, glaring after her. “Old hag,” she muttered. It was just Remi, though, just the way she chose to handle matters of the household. The woman saw after the temple and everyone in it, keeping the seers fed and clothed and their home cleaned. Her being needlessly severe was hardly new.

Particularly when a rival nation’s delegation was bearing down on them, growing closer with every passing minute. Her heart leapt at the thought. Strangers - in the temple. People besides for the same gaggle of seers she’d seen for years. People who had seen the outside world, who had lived lives completely different from hers. The idea thrilled her.

Thrilled. Yes. She scowled at the floorboards, picking up her cloth again, and tried to ignore the anxiousness growing in her chest.

Slow. This was all too slow, too tedious. Glancing back towards the door, she rose to her feet.

It creaked as she slid it shut. She froze, straining her ears, but there was no sound of running feet, no irritated cry from around the corner. Gerd had been clear - it was a punishment, retribution for her having stolen out from under his watchful eye. She wasn’t allowed to take shortcuts.

But right then, she didn’t care. He’d never know. The aging steward had a hundred different tasks to complete, feasts to organize and accommodations to prepare. There were more than a few ruffled feathers to soothe, too, irritated councilmembers who didn’t entirely appreciate the temperamental Narai clansmen suddenly piling into the city with so little warning.

Gerd had bigger tasks to worry about - and all she could feel of Efren was a dull, distant amusement lingering in the back of her mind. If her god had an issue with her using the gifts he’d given her, he didn’t speak up.

Snapping her fingers, she smiled as the water jumped. Some spilled on the floor, but that was the point, wasn’t it? Her fingers arched, digging into the power she could feel bubbling up from her well. She fixed the memory of the water-rope she’d summoned such a short while before into her mind.

The water twitched at her touch. She hesitated a moment longer, glancing at the door.

When no one came barging through, demanding to know the reason for her disobedience, she grinned. And then she got to work with the water, muttering curses about housekeepers and stewards and the godsdamned visitors who were making her life such hell.

“Eyes forward!”

At the bellowed roar, Natalin flinched. Her chin snapped up, her eyes fixing on the man in front of her. His arms were a blur, his lips pressed into a scowl.

Her arms shot up to meet his, bringing the quarterstaff she clutched up over her head. His blade slammed into it, hard enough her arms trembled.

Gritting her teeth, she straightened her arms, letting her hips take the weight as she shifted. Mostyn was tall, and his sword was far heavier than her staff. He’d abandoned his riverguard armor for the session, too, which left him smirking down at her, free of its weight.

Twisting her hands roughly, Natalin forced their weapons to the side, kicking out in the same motion. He jumped back, not missing a beat, and lunged in again.

A bead of sweat dripped down her back. She was off-balance, and at a bad angle, but even still-

Her ankles flexed as she leaned hard, praying she didn’t overbalance. The blade shot past her, close enough she could feel the breeze on her arms. Swallowing a smile, she lunged back in.

She was good. It wasn’t a matter of pride or arrogance, it was a simple fact. They’d had her training with the new recruits since she was old enough to hold a staff, and there was a reason the riverguard’s youngest captain and current rising star was giving her tutoring sessions. Part of being the god’s favorite child meant that she’d learned...differently. More easily. Knowledge had been gifted to her, bypassing the usual methods of rote practice and putting her years ahead of the competition.

And yet, when she jabbed straight out, the butt of her staff aimed for Mostyn’s midsection, he didn’t hesitate. He just sidestepped, effortlessly pushing her weapon aside.

Her eyes widened. He was too fast - it was the lack of armor, wasn’t it? He was always agile, but without the weight holding him down-

She had just enough time to bring her staff back in, sweeping it in arc over her head, before his blade came sweeping back in - from the side. Not the top, like she’d expected. Natalin gasped, eyes widening. The world around her seemed to slow as she stared at it from the corner of her eye.

There was no way she’d be able to bring her staff back around in time. He’d have her by then, smashing his blade into her vulnerable side. A hit like that would be a match point. Never mind the training, something like that would be fatal if the fight were real and not simply a drill.

She was the Tideborn. She couldn’t fail. Not like that. The frustration built, coming to a head at last. Her hand moved without a conscious command, sliding free from the well-worn grip of her quarterstaff and shooting towards Mostyn. Her mana surged and welled up all on its own. The sheer power of it was enough to stun even her. She’d never felt it react so strongly. Then again, it wasn’t often she lost. Natalin felt it explode in a tidal wave, burying her under its frigid rivers and scenting the air with rain.

Ice sprayed forth a moment later, erupting from her palm like a jagged fan. Before she could blink, before she could pull away, it plunged to the ground, shooting up again just as quickly until a smooth, silvered wall stood between them.

Natalin pulled away at last. Her hands flew to her face, covering her mouth as her eyes widened. The point of Mostyn’s blade still stuck from the icy surface, inches from where she’d stood. There was no sight of her tutor around the edges of the frozen chunk.