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As Ziradith cackled about her plans, Noah walked the silent evening streets back towards Valia’s home. Shannon had insisted on transporting him to the palace on her back, but he abstained, telling her that he wanted to do some night fishing and she might scare the fish away. His first catch tugged hard on the line when an attack came, a ring of glowing wind passing through his clone and striking the ground. Noah, walking several feet away in his invisible state, turned and looked up at a nearby building, with his clone mimicking his actions.

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Should he do it? Just forfeit the match? To admit before the crowd that their prince was too weak to fight back? After everything that had happened to him, he had no pride left, nothing to lose. Maybe it was better to accept his failure and resign himself to his shame. Lying on the ground, he raised his arm, about to surrender, but stopped, thinking back to a conversation he had with Tarnas. It was during the year of training, the two of them sitting around the campfire on an autumn night. Seraph was staring deep into the flames, into the light and warmth, but all he felt inside was cold darkness.