Ceres sat at an ornate dining table, her hands clasped in her lap. An old grandmother clock stood against the wall of the opposite room, its pendulum swinging and its hands clicking. To date, Amy had never been late. If anything, she had a tendency to be too early.

Ceres shuffled the nails of her thumbs to alleviate the anxiety in her chest.

A nearby door clicked open, and Ceres turned toward the noise. A catgirl with short pink hair and a red ribbon behind her left ear shut the door quietly behind her. Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor as she strode toward Ceres at a brisk pace.

The grandmother clock rang just as Amy took a chair beside Ceres, lifting it slightly so as not to damage the chair or the floor. Ceres adjusted her seat so that the two of them faced each other.

“Looks like I made it just on time!” Amy said, giggling.

“Y-yes,” Ceres said, a portion of her anxiety vacating.

Amy put one hand over the other in her lap and tilted her head with curious ruby eyes. “So, what did you want to discuss?”

Ceres took a deep breath, slowly exhaling. “I am considering the possibility that I may join the Knights of Sorentina.”

Amy’s eyes widened. “Oh my goodness!” She put a hand on top of Ceres’. “Truly?”

Ceres nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Well, you simply must go! You have my full support!” Amy grinned.

“Thank you, Amy.” Ceres curled an errant strand of her short blonde hair around her finger. With each passing second, her father’s face seemed to occupy more of her idle thoughts and decisions. It had been six years since he’d signed her away to the Venicia School of Etiquette and two years since his final missive. Yet, somehow, she could recall his features and disposition as if she had seen him only yesterday.

“This is about your dad, isn’t it?”

“Am I so transparent?”

“That’s what friends are for.” Amy squeezed Ceres’ hand. “Hey, he would be really proud of you if he were still with us. You should seek your dream out, Ceres.”

“I wish… not to betray his expectations,” Ceres said through a forced laugh.

“I think you soared above his expectations,” Amy said with an easy smile. “Most kittens don’t even know who their dad is. You were one of the lucky ones.” She rubbed her thumb against Ceres’ skin. “His actions were not those of a man who didn’t care. They were those of a man who wanted everything for his daughter. I’m sure he would agree if he were still with us.”

Ceres fought back the tears that built in her eyes. “Yes. Yes, I am sure you are correct.”

“Come on! You’re sixteen! You have so much going for you!” Amy performed an arm pump. “The Knights of Sorentina would be lucky to have you! Besides, I’ve seen how you handle that broom. You swing it like it’s a weapon.”

Ceres’ cheeks grew hot. “I… did not know anyone had seen that.”

“Nothing gets past me. You know that.”

“Thank you, Amy.” Ceres bowed at the neck. “For everything.”

“H-hey! Don’t say your goodbyes yet! Surely you’re not leaving already!”

Ceres spent days acquiring any letter of recommendation she could find. Every submission was another voice, another chance the Knights of Sorentina would acknowledge her. Any who had joined the knights swore to lead a life of honor and respect. Denying her entry would be akin to denying the instructors of their position. Thankfully, not a single person rejected her request. By the time she finished, she had accrued six letters.

The months that followed were the most stressful in all her life. Every day held dreams of becoming a [Magic Knight]. Visions of standing proud in her armor, protecting those who could not defend themselves. As she waited, she spent the passing days practicing motions she had learned from a book about combat with her trusty broom.

Ceres knew little of blacksmithing, but at least she knew how to tie a shaped rock to the broken end of a broomstick. She originally had her heart set on a greatsword, but with no blacksmiths in town, her only option would be to order one from Sorentina—an expensive commitment for one whose job security was dubious at best. Her tuition would also need to be paid, assuming she was accepted.

So, for practice, a spear would do.

The weight, the balance, the motions, all of it felt natural to her—as if this was what she was meant to do. Day after day, she spent her time in the courtyard, spinning, twirling, pivoting, anything she could teach herself from one book and a handful of sketches.

It was a cold morning when a voice grabbed Ceres’ attention.

“Ceres!” Amy cried from behind her.

Ceres spun her spear to her side with the point held downward. She let out a slow, steady breath, looking over her shoulder at her friend.

“Something came in the mail for you!”

Ceres’ breath caught. Her heart began to pound against her chest. Service. Grace. Urgency. Always a lady.

It was no good. Ceres broke into a jog, unable to contain her excitement, and ran to Amy. Her friend held out the yellowed envelope with a big smile, and Ceres took it with trembling hands. She turned the letter over, admiring the red wax seal—a pair of crossed swords held before a flame. Her mouth dry, Ceres broke the seal and retrieved the letter.

She read it aloud.

“‘To Lady Ceres of Venicia. A most curious letter arrived on my desk a month ago. It seems that the Venician school of etiquette has taken an interest in offering us one of its most talented students. Its contents told of a woman of unparalleled virtue and stoicism. A woman who was not afraid to strengthen not only her mind but her body and spirit as well.’” Ceres cocked her head back, and a snowflake landed on the tip of her nose.

“Keep reading, keep reading!” Amy encouraged.

“Right.” Ceres cleared her throat. “‘I must say, I am most impressed with your record. You seem a fine woman with the proper understanding of what is expected of a knight. It is for this reason that we invite you to join the Knights of Sorentina. One of my [Magic Knight]s will be there in seven days to escort you to Sorentina. Please follow the instructions below. Do not be tardy. Signed, Lady Emersyn, [Magic Knight] of Sorentina.’”

“Oh my goodness, oh my goodness!” Amy gripped Ceres’ wrists and jumped up and down. “You did it! You did it! You got accepted!”

Ceres was dumbfounded. Then, slowly, a smile overwhelmed her. Soon, she and Amy were hopping up and down, thrilled about the future.

Ceres’ farewell proved to be a bigger deal than she had anticipated. There had to have been at least a few dozen girls who wished her a safe trip. They crowded around the [Magic Knight]’s cart, eliciting a few snippy remarks from the knight.

“W-w-will you come back soon?” Amy asked, her face red from crying. “I-I’m going to miss you!”

Ceres offered her a sweet smile. “I will return. You have my promise. On my honor as a future [Magic Knight].” Admittedly, she was unsure when she would be allowed to return. While the school supposedly offered the girls short vacations, Ceres was aware of the rumors surrounding the knights. It could be a long time before she returned. “Become a great [Wizard], Amy. I have the utmost faith in you.”

“T-thanks, Ceres.” Amy hugged her friend for the fifth time that morning, drenching her apron in tears. “I’ll do my best on San Island,” she said muffledly.

“I know you will,” Ceres said, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. She ran her fingers through Amy’s hair, and for one brief moment, Ceres wanted to join in the sobbing.

There will be time for that later, she reminded herself.

“It’s time,” said the [Magic Knight]. “Come.”

“Yes, my lady,” Ceres said, nodding. She and Amy parted, and Ceres sat on the wagon next to the armored catgirl. The wagon began to move, and Ceres waved.

She only stopped waving when she could no longer see Amy.

Seven days later, Ceres arrived at the Sorentina keep. It was a structure of incredible majesty. Women dressed in black and white garbs similar to Ceres marched their way around the building, silver plates of armor held firm against their bodies. Flashes of fire and ice drew Ceres’ attention, her stare lingering longer than was proper.

Two catgirls who bore breastplates over their maid attire came down the main staircase, curtsying before her. “We have been awaiting your arrival, Lady Ceres,” said the catgirl on the left.

“Please follow us,” said the one on the right.

“Thank you,” said Ceres.

The girls led Ceres up the stone staircase, past the portcullis, and into the main hall. Lush, red carpets embroidered with threads of gold lay upon black marble floors. Chandeliers made of crystal hung from the ceiling while a nearby catgirl snapped her fingers, igniting the wick of the candles. Ceres had to practice constant self-control whenever something caught her eye.

This place was everything Ceres had expected and more.

The knights escorted Ceres up a pair of spiral staircases and into the center room on the second floor. Several others briskly strode past them, platters of food perched on their palms. She listened as the girls in the kitchen to her left barked orders.

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Understood, ma’am!”

The knights gestured to a door opposite the long hallway. “You are to refer to her as Lady Captain at all times. Is that understood?” said the one on the left.

“Yes. I understand,” said Ceres.

“Good. Go on in. She’s waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” said Ceres. Drawing a deep breath, she turned the knob of the dark wood door and pushed it open.

A catgirl in stunning armor halted her pacing upon Ceres’ entrance. She bore striking red hair tied into a long ponytail and eyes of emerald.

“Take a seat. Close the door behind you.” She gestured to a chair in front of her desk.

“Yes, Lady Captain,” Ceres said. The door clicked behind her as she shut it. Taking great care to remember her etiquette lessons, Ceres gracefully settled into the chair, her back straight and with one hand clasped over the over in her lap.

The captain hummed. “Your etiquette is refined.” The woman took the seat opposite, mirroring her posture. “You are the one they call Ceres, are you not?”

Ceres nodded. “Yes, I am Ceres of Venicia.”

“My name is Aline. However, you are to continue referring to me as Lady Captain. Is that understood?”

“I understand, Lady Captian.”

“Excellent. Do you have any experience in combat, Ceres?”

Ceres wished to be honest. “My knowledge is somewhat middling. Most techniques I have learned have been self-taught from books.”

“We will need to change that immediately. It is good that you come from the school of etiquette. That saves us a step in your training.” Aline’s tone was flat, almost cold. There was an air of shrewdness surrounding her. Ceres could not help but feel that Aline spent every glance, every second, managing and observing any inflections in Ceres’ voice or movement. It left her feeling uneasy and vulnerable. “Do you know of your affinity?”

No. Ceres thought back to when she was a kitten, and the other girls picked on her. At the time, she had been able to use ice-related spells. They were parlor tricks at best but promising ones for one as young as she was.

“I do not,” said Ceres. “However, I am of the belief that I lean toward the element of ice.”

Aline raised a brow. “My, that is a rare one. Most of my girls lean toward fire or earth.” She cocked her head to the side, her gaze resting on an oil painting on the wall. “I can think of only one woman suited to teach you.” She pulled open a drawer on her right.

“My apologies for causing undue distress,” Ceres said, bowing her head.

“Hardly. Pray, allow me one moment.” Pulling out a piece of stained paper, she dipped a quill in a nearby ink bottle and began to write.

Ceres’ gaze wandered to the numerous paintings on the wall. Her lessons in Venicia allowed her to identify the many strokes and techniques used by the painters. As she scanned the room, a watercolor painting of a ship at sea caught her attention. It depicted a man in tattered clothes, standing atop the foremast before an enormous Defiled with dozens of tentacles. She could not help but wish to jump into the painting and combat the evil alongside him.

“Here you are,” said Aline.

Ceres’ attention snapped back to her captain. She extended a folded piece of paper before her. “Take this to Lady Giselle. She will see to it that you are properly trained.”

Ceres’ eyes lit up. “Thank you so much. Where is she now?”

“Go back to the main hall and take the door on your right. That will lead you to the courtyard. That is where our knights train.”

“You have been most gracious, Lady Captain,” Ceres said, bowing again.

“As have you. You are dismissed.”

Ceres carefully rose to her feet, gripping her hands tightly against her belly to hide the shaking. Goodness, was she excited to begin her training. With the letter held flat against her stomach, Ceres exited the room, offering one last bow before she departed—as was expected of a subordinate. When she acknowledged no one else was around, she grinned and squealed quietly to herself.

At last, it was time.

When Ceres arrived in the courtyard, she counted dozens of crosses adorned with thatch bags. Each bag had been stuffed with hay and painted, offering each knight an opponent of equal size.

“Excuse me,” Ceres said to a passing catgirl. She looked new, as she bore no armor and was littered with pocks of dirt and sweat. Despite that, she still carried herself with the grace expected of a Knight of Sorentina. “Where might I find Lady Giselle?”

The catgirl clicked her tongue, then pointed over her shoulder. “The one standing behind the girls there. White hair, blue eyes. Can’t miss her.” Without so much as a goodbye, the catgirl quickened her pace and returned to the main hall behind them.

Goodness, I hope she is alright.

With apprehension in her breast, Ceres approached the woman, stopping a few feet from her. “Excuse me.”

The woman raised a hand to silence her. “Put your back into it! You’re not bringing plates of food to a man; you’re striking with the intent to kill! So, kill!”

“Yes, ma’am!” the girls cried back.

She turned toward Ceres with a raised brow. “What is it? I haven’t got all day, so make this quick.”

Ceres extended the letter. “You are Lady Giselle, are you not?”

“I am.” She rolled her eyes as she took the letter from Ceres. “Another would-be [Magic Knight], huh?” Unfolding the letter, she began to read its contents.

Ceres was unsure what would be proper to say, so she chose to remain silent.

“I see,” Giselle said. She crumpled the letter and threw it into the fire pit behind her, where a pot of stew was cooking. “Don’t think that just because you might have an affinity for ice that it somehow makes you special. I’m going to grind you into the dirt. And you are to refer to me as Lady Commander. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Lady Commander. I understand.” Ceres bowed at the waist.

“Good. Stay here. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Ceres nodded, glancing at the lady commander as she disappeared inside the building. As she waited, she observed the girls training. They all wore outfits like Ceres’, though many were not wearing armor. Their swings were uniform, and judging from the expressions on their faces, they were struggling. One of the dummies was missing a training partner, and Ceres surmised it had belonged to the girl who passed her by.

The door behind her clicked open. Giselle made her way back onto the courtyard, standing before Ceres with two closed fists in front of her.

“In case you’re unaware, [Magic Knight]s are unable to conjure lightning and water.” Giselle opened her left hand to reveal three diamond-shaped stones. “Only as a Third Class, an [Arbiter], will you have access to these Spells. You will struggle fiercely if your affinity lies in one of those two areas.” She opened her right hand to reveal three more stones. “Most catgirls have a primary and secondary affinity. Let us hope you’re attuned to ice as you claim you may be.” She plucked a yellow stone from the group with one gauntleted hand, pouring the remaining stones into her other hand. “Do you know how to manage your Myana?”

“I do,” said Ceres.

“This will be a quick process, then.” Giselle placed the stone in Ceres’ hand. “Close your hand around the stone and focus on pouring a small bit of Myana into it.”

Ceres shut her eyes and held the stone close to her chest. Breathing slowly and steadily, she experienced a strange sensation like dozens of little pins poking into her skin.

“I can sense it. Open your hand,” said Giselle.

Ceres opened her hand, palm upright, so that Giselle could see it.

“Not the glow we would expect. It seems earth is your secondary affinity.”

Ceres gasped. “Did you know that would happen?”

“I figured it likely. In most cases, those who have used ice-related magic gravitate toward water or earth. Consider yourself lucky you didn’t land in the former.” Giselle gestured for the rock. “Hand it here.” Ceres placed the rock back in the lady commander’s hand. “Now for the real test.” She snatched a blue-white stone from the bunch and gave it to Ceres.

The effect was instantaneous. Before the rock had even touched Ceres’ skin, it began to glow and vibrate between Giselle’s fingers. The light pulsated, humming as if charged with lightning.

Giselle frowned. “Interesting.” Collecting the stones into her one hand, Giselle slid them into the [Cat Pack] around her waist, folding her arms. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Ceres, was it?”

“Y-yes,” Ceres stammered.

“Grab a weapon.” Giselle flicked her head to a rack of wooden training weapons on her right. “The sooner we start, the better.”

Four years had passed since Ceres began her training. Giselle was ruthless, cunning, noble. Everything Ceres wanted in a mentor and more. For the most part, that is. Ceres felt her tone and word choice could use some work, but it was never more than a thought. Speaking ill of your commander was a fine way to end up on kitchen duty.

Amy’s letters of encouragement always soothed the sting of the difficult days. Her dearest friend was doing well for herself on San Island, her [Wizard] training proceeding as planned. They would both achieve their dreams. Ceres mused of their reunion, hoping it would come sooner than later.

“Are you prepared for the ceremony?” Sheerie asked, jogging in place. Most likely to calm her nerves. She and Ceres had become close friends during their time in Sorentina. Ceres felt she could trust her with her life.

“I believe I am,” Ceres said.

The door to the common room swung open. In the doorway was Nora, a high-ranking [Magic Knight] clad in gold armor laden with jewels of every color imaginable. The armor was ceremonial and unfit for combat.

“It’s time,” Nora announced.

Sheerie halted her jogging and made her way over to stand beside Nora. “I’m ready,” said Sheerie. She gestured for Ceres to follow. “Let’s do this.”

Ceres rose from the bottom bunk bed, smiling. “Let’s.”

There was a strict rule for the ceremony hall. Only those who were [Magic Knight]s could enter. The one exception was the [Magic Knight] initiation. Getting caught in this hall as a trainee was grounds for exile from the Knights of Sorentina.

The hall was just as large and grand as Ceres had pictured. Unlike the red and black themes seen throughout the keep, the room was constructed from white marble. A rug of royal blue stretched from one side of the room up to a narrow table adorned with a white tablecloth, where a single silver sword lay at its center—the Sword of Virtues.

Lady Aline approached Ceres and the other initiates, bowing at the neck while the initiates bowed at the waist—a common courtesy granted to those of higher ranking.

“Pray, follow me,” Lady Aline gestured.

Lady Aline's was the most ornately decorated of all the knights Ceres had seen up until now. While the others wore gold armor similar to Nora’s, Lady Aline wore silver. Her cape bore the same deep blue color as the rug beneath her feet, granting her an almost queenly presence.

If anyone in their number could be named the queen’s protector, it would be Aline.

The ten would-be [Magic Knight]s followed Aline to the table. Upon it rested the Sword of Virtues—a blade every [Fighter] had enchanted to get where Aline, Giselle, and the many other [Magic Knight]s were today. The weapon sat upon a bed of black pebbles. Gemstones sparkled inside the sword’s hilt, and the light of the flickering candles cast a spellbinding glow upon the faces of the knights.

“I will call your name, one by one,” began Lady Aline. “When I do, approach the table and retrieve the sword. Call upon the Invoke Spell of your choice. The Spell will succeed if the sword finds you worthy of becoming a [Magic Knight]. If not, we must ask you to continue another year of training.” All eyes were on Lady Aline, the shared tension in the room palpable. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Lady Captain,” Ceres and the others recited in unison.

“Excellent.” Lady Aline unfurled the scroll in her hand and began to call out the names.

Only two of the six girls who had approached the altar had been found worthy by the sword. Ceres had expected to see tears from the ones who had failed. Instead, they remained stoic and forthright. As a knight should.

“Lady Sheerie,” Lady Aline called next.

Sheerie looked at Ceres, eyes wide with anxiety.

“You can do it. I have the utmost faith in you,” said Ceres.

Sheerie’s teeth chattered. “Right. Okay. I can do this.” With steady steps, Sheerie ascended the stairs and approached the sword. Pulling back the hood of her white cloak, she reached for the handle and held the point upward. Seconds passed. “[Invoke Blaze]!” she said, raising the sword as high as she could. Flames erupted from the sword's hilt, coiling around the blade like a pair of snakes. As the ropes of fire joined at the tip, the blaze roared to life, engulfing the edge.

The girls clapped, and as Sheerie brought the sword down to eye level, the flame subsided in size, reaching a point of stability.

“Congratulations, Lady Sheerie,” Lady Aline said with a gentle smile. “You have advanced to [Magic Knight].”

The flame disappeared, and Sheerie set the sword down. The pebbles shifted from the weight, and with the dignity of a Sorentina [Magic Knight], Sheerie descended the stairs, taking her place beside Ceres.

“Lady Ceres,” said Lady Aline. “Please approach the altar.”

Ceres swallowed the lump in her throat and ascended the stairs next. Just as Sheerie had, Ceres removed the hood of her cloak before the Sword of Virtues. The blade was infinitely more intimidating up close than it was from afar. Jewels caught every hint of light that touched them, creating a dancing prism of colors against Ceres’ alabaster skin.

Ceres reached for the sword with trembling fingers and mirrored Sheerie’s prior gesture.

Saoirse. If you are watching, please grant me the strength to protect the weak.

Ceres raised the sword into the air. “[Invoke Frost]!”

An ephemeral gust blew past Ceres. Wisps of blue swirled around the blade, ascending to the point. As the wisps rose higher and higher, tiny flakes of snow and ice manifested within the air, moving toward the sword as if it were a magnet. The air around her grew colder, and the flakes and shards grew larger around the blade. A second gust of wind came, only this time it erupted from where she stood. She shut one eye and squinted the other.

Then, as if the temperature had never descended, the room's warmth returned. Ceres opened her eyes, delighted to see a blue-white aura had surrounded the sword. As she moved it from side to side, the particles within sparkled. It was beautiful.

“Congratulations, Lady Ceres,” said Lady Aline. “You have advanced to [Magic Knight].”