15

Two months after Confluence Day, and I still sometimes do a double take when I see myself in the black aspirant uniform trimmed in silver. My hair is getting longer, but I keep it braided close and tight. Otherwise, opponents will use it against me in the sparring ring.

The tanned skin I had my whole life from days on the waters has faded to be more pale. My lean, wiry frame has filled out, too. Now, when I look at myself, I can actually see… a warrior. Someone strong. Someone who might have handled the way things happened in Saltcrest differently. Would the person I’m becoming just hang her head and let my sister and mother ignore me? Would she accept all the blame for something she couldn’t control?

I’m still not sure, but I can feel I’m changing. Hardening.

I lean closer, inspecting my eyes. They’re a deep blue like most water affinities, but they’ve always been. The change is when I look close enough, there are flecks of silver, like the reflection of stars across the sea at night. I have no doubt the silver is from my unbound affinity. Nobody has mentioned them, and I hope it stays that way.

I move away from the mirror and snatch up my practice rapier, strapping it to my hip for easy access. I train with it every day, and unlike my first few weeks here at Confluence, I rarely go to sleep aching or bruised anymore. I might even go as far as to say I'm getting pretty damn good with the thing.

"Better than good," Typhon notes.

I smile at him. When he's not being stuffy and cranky, he's actually pretty supportive. He’s currently sunning himself by the morning light coming through my window in one of his many forms—this one a thick salamander the size of a large dog.

My new aspirant room is three times the size of the one I shared with Mireen, with a private bathroom that has actual hot water on demand. I have my own desk, a small window overlooking the central courtyard, and enough space that Typhon can stretch out in his dragon form without knocking things over—though he seems to prefer showing off how many forms he can take.

My uniform is sleeveless, letting my arms—which are now more toned than they've ever been in my life—show. Aspirants and legacies get the privilege of a little more wardrobe flexibility than we had as offerings. We have dress uniforms, thicker padded uniforms for cold days, and light, sleeveless uniforms for heavy training days or heat. Even the quality of the underwear we’re given is significantly improved, and thank the fucking gods for that.