Ten years passed like moments and eternities simultaneously.

Marina stood in the training grounds watching her daughters spar, and couldn't quite believe they were already approaching the age of the first trial. Sera moved like fire made flesh, all speed and aggression, her red-brown fur gleaming in afternoon sun. Luna fought with calculated precision, shadow magic augmenting every strike, making her nearly impossible to predict.

They were magnificent. And they were running out of time.

"Again," Silvain commanded from where he supervised their combat training. "Sera, you're telegraphing your attacks. Luna, stop relying on shadow constructs. If the First Wolf strips your magic during the trial, you need physical skills...