The midday sun cast a shimmering glow over Valdorne's southern courtyard. Rows of recruits lined the field, sweating through coordinated drills as Maika moved with fluid, precise steps between them, her twin daggers sheathed at her hips.
Nearby, Laverna adjusted the straps on her jamadhars, sparking fire from her palm with a flick of her fingers. She watched Maika closely, analyzing the rhythm of her pacing, the keenness in her gaze. There was something untamed about Maika's grace, like lightning bottled in a blade—controlled chaos behind an effortless grin.
"Ready to show them how it's done?" Maika called, tossing Laverna a smirk.
Laverna rolled her eyes. "Only if you can keep up."
The instructors rang the signal bell. The recruits paused. This was the demonstration they had waited for.
Maika slipped on her Taiyo no Men—the Sunfire Mask's radiant glow flared briefly. Her aura shimmered with golden heat.
Laverna took her stance across the circle, eyes sharp. They launched into motion, a choreographed routine of synchronized strikes and evasions—fire and flame dancing in tandem. Their movements were dazzling, every strike timed to perfection—until it wasn't.
Halfway through, a burst of uncontrolled solar energy veered off Maika's blade, streaking toward a cluster of observing trainees. Maika's eyes widened.
"Down!" she shouted.
Laverna responded instantly, thrusting her jamadhars into the ground and releasing a shockwave of fox-fire wind. The blast dispersed the solar bolt mid-air, showering the field in harmless embers.
Recruits scrambled. A few gasped. One had fallen, unharmed but shaken.
Silence.
Maika rushed over, kneeling beside the boy. "You alright?"
He nodded, wide-eyed. "Y-Yes, Lady Maika."
Laverna approached, letting the embers fizzle out around her boots. Her voice was firm, calm. "All of you—witness that mistakes can kill. But control saves lives. That is why you train."
Maika rose, exchanging a glance with her.
"Thanks," she muttered.
"You owe me lunch," Laverna said, smirking slightly.
That evening, Maika found Laverna sitting atop the outer wall, feet dangling over the parapet. She had two wrapped rice balls and a canteen of chilled water.
"You actually brought lunch?" Laverna asked.
"A deal's a deal." Maika sat beside her, handing one over.
They ate in silence for a moment, watching the sun dip beneath the horizon.
"Back there," Maika said, "I really screwed up."
"You didn't lose control. You lost focus," Laverna replied. "You recovered fast. That matters."
Maika stretched her arms, letting the breeze sweep through her short hair. "Have you ever thought about how weird this all is? Two girls trained to kill sitting on a wall, talking about rice and mistakes?"
"All the time," Laverna said. "But... I'm learning to appreciate the weird."
Maika bumped her shoulder. "I like that about you."
Laverna blinked. "You what?"
"I said I like that about you," Maika repeated, a teasing lilt in her tone. "You're intense. But honest."
"You're a loudmouth with too many knives."
"Exactly. We're perfect."
Laverna snorted. "You're impossible."
"And you're dramatic. See? Perfect balance."
"Balance, huh?" Laverna took another bite, then grinned. "Then maybe you can be my decoy next time I mess up."
"Oh, sure," Maika said, rolling her eyes. "I'll just jump in front of the next solar blast and wave."
"Make sure to do a flourish. Gotta keep the audience impressed."
Maika laughed. "Gods, remind me why I like you again?"
"Because I keep you humble."
They both laughed again, louder this time. The tension dissolved like mist in morning light. Their banter echoed between them—not as rivals, but as sisters who'd chosen each other through fire and fate.
Maika leaned back, glancing skyward. "We should try combining our styles again. More safely this time."
"You have something in mind?"
"I was thinking... your wind magic can funnel my sunfire bursts. Precision over raw power."
"And if I anchor your strikes with fox-fire, we can arc them around cover," Laverna added. "Create a crescent burst."
They nodded in unison.
That night, in the empty court, they practiced. The first attempt fizzled—Maika's sunfire overloaded, and Laverna's wind kicked up a storm that scattered training dummies across the yard.
"Okay, maybe not that much wind," Maika said, coughing as dust settled on her shoulders.
"Try charging a half-second later," Laverna suggested, brushing embers off her bracers.
Their second attempt arced wide, missing the target entirely and nearly catching the top of a wooden post on fire. They both scrambled to stamp it out, collapsing into laughter.
"I thought you said precision!" Laverna teased.
"You're the one with the wind tantrum!" Maika shot back.
They tried again. And again. Each attempt brought them closer—the timing sharper, the flow more instinctive. The fifth attempt curved around the target and struck with enough force to shatter the top half of a reinforced dummy. By the seventh, they didn't need to speak. They just moved.
Then it clicked. Laverna's gust curved around Maika's sunfire burst, sculpting it into a focused crescent beam. The attack struck the center dummy dead-on, bursting in a spiral of controlled flame and shimmering wind.
They froze for a breath, wide-eyed.
Then both whooped in unison.
"Again!" Maika cried.
"Hell yes!" Laverna grinned.
They launched the attack two more times, refining the tempo until it moved like breath and heartbeat. Sparks flew, wind howled, light split the dark in crescent arcs. Their bodies moved in tandem—one a dancer, one a ghost.
They high-fived between sets. They mocked each other's stumbles. They pushed until sweat gleamed on their foreheads and their magic pulsed in rhythm.
And when they finally collapsed to the ground, panting and flushed, Maika turned to her.
"Let's call it Kōrin Ryōka," she said. "Sunlit Fox."
Laverna smirked. "It suits us."
Later, while packing away weapons, Laverna spoke up.
"Today wasn't your fault alone. I was too focused on the spectacle."
Maika tightened the strap on her dagger belt. "But we saved them. Together."
"And we'll keep doing that."
"Yeah," Maika agreed. "We've got each other's backs."
They stood under the twin moons, light bouncing off the training blades.
Two warriors, forged in fire—one of sun, one of fox. Not just allies. Sisters.
And when they walked off the field that night, they walked side by side.