The two-week countdown to the tournament trials began, and the academy was in a frenzy. Teams were forming, alliances were being made, and rivalries were heating up. Meanwhile, Rynhara tried her best to avoid further chaos—though chaos seemed magnetically drawn to her.
"Alright, students," Professor Aldwyn announced, pacing in front of the class. "Today's lesson is about handling high-pressure combat. We'll be pairing you up for sparring matches. Your goal is to push your opponent to their limits without using lethal force."
Rynhara sighed, already dreading who her sparring partner would be.
"Rynhara," Aldwyn said, scanning his list, "you're up against... Daemon."
"Of course I am," she muttered under her breath.
Daemon strode to the center of the arena, his shining armor glinting obnoxiously in the light. "Ready to test your mettle, Princess?"
"Stop calling me that," Rynhara growled, stepping into the ring with her ebony scythe at the ready.
The match began with Daemon charging forward, his sword glowing with light magic. Rynhara deflected his strikes with ease, her movements fluid and precise.
"Is that all you've got?" she taunted, spinning her scythe to unleash a burst of wind magic.
Daemon grinned, absorbing the blast with a shield of light. "I'm just warming up!"
Their clash intensified, with Rynhara using her speed and magic to keep Daemon on the defensive. The crowd watched in awe as the two unleashed a dazzling display of skill.
Finally, Rynhara managed to disarm Daemon with a well-placed strike, her scythe hovering inches from his neck.
"Yield," she said, smirking.
Daemon chuckled. "Fine, you win this round."
After lunch, the students gathered for a strategy lesson. This time, they were tasked with solving hypothetical combat scenarios.
Rynhara's group—consisting of herself, Daemon, Kira, Veloria, and two other royals—was given a particularly challenging scenario: defend a village from an invading army while escorting civilians to safety.
Daemon immediately suggested a bold frontal assault.
"That's suicide," Rynhara said flatly. "We need a diversion and a fallback plan."
Kira leaned back in her chair, smirking. "Why not just blow up the whole army? Problem solved."
Veloria groaned. "Can we try to act like professionals for once?"
After much arguing, they finally settled on a plan that combined Rynhara's diversion idea with Daemon's frontal assault. Their teacher, however, wasn't impressed.
"You're relying too much on brute force," Aldwyn said, shaking his head. "Teamwork and adaptability are key. Remember that."
Later that afternoon, Rynhara reluctantly made her way to the infamous clubroom. To her surprise, the room was unusually quiet.
"Where is everyone?" she muttered, stepping inside.
Her answer came in the form of an explosion of confetti and party horns.
"Surprise!" yelled the club president, a third-year named Alaric, who was known for his eccentric personality. "We're celebrating your upcoming tournament debut!"
"I don't need a party," Rynhara said, rubbing her temples.
"Nonsense!" Alaric said, shoving a plate of cake into her hands. "You're our rising star!"
The other club members cheered, though their enthusiasm was more chaotic than supportive. One member accidentally set their sleeve on fire while casting a celebratory spell, prompting a frantic scramble to put it out.
Kaelira, who had tagged along, leaned against the wall, smirking. "This is your life now."
"Don't remind me," Rynhara muttered.
Back at the castle, Rynhara recounted the day's events to Tiamora, who listened with her usual amused expression.
"So, let me get this straight," Tiamora said, laughing. "You fought your annoying knight-in-shining-armor classmate, survived a strategy class full of egos, and endured a surprise party from your misfit club?"
"Pretty much," Rynhara replied, flopping onto a couch. "Why does everything in my life have to be so... ridiculous?"
"Because you're my daughter," Tiamora said, grinning. "Ridiculousness runs in the family."
Kaelira entered the room, carrying a tray of tea. "To be fair, Lady Rynhara, you do attract chaos like a magnet."
"Not helping," Rynhara said, shooting her maid a glare.
"Relax," Tiamora said, sipping her tea. "The tournament trials are just around the corner. This is the calm before the storm."
Rynhara groaned. "If this is calm, I don't want to know what the storm looks like."
"Don't worry, sweetie," Tiamora said with a sly smile. "I have a feeling you'll handle it just fine."
Rynhara wasn't so sure, but deep down, she couldn't deny the spark of excitement building within her. The trials were coming, and she was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead—probably.