Elysia lingered on the training grounds staring after Aarin for an immeasurable amount of time. It wasn't until laughter in the distance startled her to attention that she realized what she was doing. It was instinctive--a behavior leftover from her days with the Circle. Back then, whenever the Watcher left with anger in his shoulders, it had always felt wiser to sit still and wait until he returned. Otherwise, he occasionally thought she had forgotten what was done to anger him and would get upset all over again.

She didn't need to wait. He wasn't here.

There was one similarity, however. Speaking hadn't done her any good. He hadn't been calm before her words--in fact, he'd appeared the opposite--but, he'd been on the mend. Then, that single term seemed to push Aarin over the edge once more.

Her eyes flickered to the ash that had once been a target. It hadn't been a lie. The fire was beautiful--purer than anything she'd created herself. Every drop of mana in her veins had urged her to step forward, to see if it felt as captivating as it looked.

But, humans didn't do that. Sorrel had yelped when he accidentally touched the kitchen stove.

So, she didn't.

Had she acted instead of spoken, would it have turned out differently? Or would it have been the same, since she was one to be neither seen or heard?

With a sigh, Elysia let her attention fall to the training ground's remaining straw figure. It reminded her of the blade on her back, which she pulled off after a moment's hesitation. She'd been surprised when they gave her the weapon. Before that moment, they'd only allowed her to wield wooden practice swords or blunt blades. Both could cause horrible bruises, but not lethal injury.

They trust me.

It was strange. They had no reason to trust her. Actually, most people wouldn't. Strangers weren't accepted amongst working mages. They were shunned, distrusted, and watched with cautious eyes. Knowing the secrets of your enemies magic could be the difference between life and death on the field. It was one of the many reasons why outside of the tower it was discouraged to introduce yourself alongside your family name.

Yet, Camilla trusted her. As did Rhom and Sorrel. Allura. Even Sorrel's friends greeted her with a smile, now, instead of wary eyes. Aarin was different, but he held a special place in her chest, so that didn't matter. The fact that he allowed her to follow him this far was enough.

And now she was a part of the tower.

Her eyes strayed from the blade, drifting back to ash once more. Something shifted inside of her as she stared at it. It dragged her forms to the front of her mind, urging her to begin shifting her feet through the familiar drills that Camilla and Sorrel performed every evening. It was easy to fall in step with the memories, even as her muscles protested even that amount of activity.

She would do it.

She would repeat each action until there wasn't a doubt in anyone's mind that she belonged here amongst them. Her arms would know the weight of her blade as thoroughly as her mind grasped her new name. Eventually, it would be instinct to turn her head as they called her, just as it would be thoughtless to shift her mana into the sword like any other Lunas.

She would become accepted by the tower. She would grow strong enough to protect them. She would repay Sorrel, Camilla, Rhom, Aarin and everyone for their trust.

She would make sure none of them regretted taking her in.

She would do it--and she would do it silently.

They would understand by watching her. Words had never done her any good. In the end, they only caused problems and upset others.

The only way to do that was to become strong. And the only way to become strong was practice.

So, she did.

꧁༺ ༻꧂

Hours later, with helpful directions from Noa and Rena when she ran into them, she trudged into the house. Immediately, her aches turned into wariness as Camilla and Rhom appeared in front of her. Their expressions were an apprehensive mix of anxiousness and irritation, the latter of which put her nerves on edge.

She wanted to run.

Rhom halted that by sweeping her into a suffocating hug. As she escaped his arms--one can't hold smoke, after all--Camilla placed her hands on her hips. A scowl took her lips.

"Where were you?" she demanded. "Classes released hours ago! It's dark. We thought something might have--"

"We're glad you're okay," Rhom cut in, shooting Camilla a look Elysia couldn't understand. She tucked her arms behind her, pushing her back to the door as Rhom turned back to her, his expression soft. "Just worried. Did you go somewhere with new friends?"

Smoke continued to swirl around her, leaving her body more air than person. Then, as their expressions finally sunk past the panic bubbling in her mind, confusion set in. The smoke cleared.

They were...concerned. About her?

Silent, she gestured towards her sword. Camilla furrowed her brow, while instant understanding flooded Rhom's face.

"You were training?"

She nodded, prompting a sharp laugh from him. He rocked back on his heels, hand rubbing at his forehead.

"Listen, Elysia," he began as his amusement calmed. "You can practice here, you know. Just like Sorrel. Camilla would be happy for you to join her. Overjoyed, in fact. There's no need to go somewhere else."

She shook her head, not willing to explain. He blinked, confused as she'd known he would be. Still, he didn't argue, instead seeming to study her for a moment before shifting to his feet once again. His hand caught Camilla's shoulder as she opened her mouth again and while she glared at him, her lips fell shut.

"She's fine, Love, so I say we let her go clean up," he suggested. "Then we can alol sit down for dinner. I'm not as good at understanding the unspoken as Sorrel and you're a bit too...I say we wait until he returns, then handle it then."

Camilla stared him down for a moment, to the point that her mana threatened to break through once again, unease twisting her nerves to the edge of snapping, before she sighed. Then, with her anger draining from her taut frame, she turned towards the stairs.

"Come on, then. I'll prepare the water for you while you pick out some clean clothes. And no weapons at the table--you're leaving that sword in your room."

Instinctively, Elysia moved to join her as she moved forward. The confusion set in, however, as they proceeded through the familiar routine. It was strange. She hadn't expected them to be so upset about her not returning home after class.

But, somehow...it felt good. Being worried about created the same warmth in her chest as being trusted.

As she sunk into the warm water, a hiss escaping her lips at the way it soothed her aching body, she almost smiled.

Because, for one of the first times since she learned the phrase...Elysia understood why coming home was a good thing. 

A/N: So, I started to write up more for this, intending to continue onto the next section because it's so short, but then had a realization and checked my files only to realize that this is technically supposed to be the ending of Part I! 
So, yay! 

Hope you enjoyed the initial introduction to Elysia. I will probably not resist posting more chapters soon since this book doesn't have a specific update schedule unlike my other. So don't worry about the end of part I creating another accidental hiatus. 

See you in Part II!