We enter the dining hall, its soaring ceiling a masterpiece of architectural wonder. Massive crystal chandeliers hover without visible support, casting rainbow-flecked light across the stone floors polished to a mirror shine. Around us, students from all years take seats and dig into heaping plates of steaming food, their colored markings denoting their affinities—the blue spirals of water, the amber flames of fire, the emerald mountain patterns of earth, and the silvery wisps of air.

I find my eyes lingering on the first-year legacies, who sit in small groups, divided by affinity. Most days, I hardly even see the legacies except at meal times. They’re all busy with special classes and assignments, some of which even take them beyond the walls of Confluence. Since they’ve been training their whole lives for this, first-year legacies are already far beyond the rest of us. Most of them will wind up being our generals and commanders if we survive to graduation.

It's hard to believe five of us might get promoted to legacies if we win the Crucible. But I'm hardly worried about that. I just want the people I care about to survive it.

Despite my mood, I still marvel at the beauty of Confluence sometimes. For all its dangers, the castle itself is breathtaking. And even if I hate to admit it, I've come to find a kind of happiness here in my daily routines. The endless weapons training leaves me bruised and sore, the exercises only make it worse, and then it's hours of academic classes, channeling practice, and working with our elementals to strengthen our tethers and learning to fight together with them.

I enjoy the education and the challenge. I’ve learned so much in such a short period of time. I love the friends I’ve made, the feeling of getting stronger every day, and the sense that I’m capable of protecting the people I care about more and more with each step I take. And… well, it's hardly worth pretending I don't enjoy thinking about what might happen with Raith. Gods know I dream about it constantly.

We join Beck and Ambrose at our usual table, where platters of steaming food already wait.

"So," Beck says around a mouthful of roasted meat, "I saw you royally fail, but I didn't get to hear what Sestra's said to you when she chewed you out before class ended.”

"Beck!" Mireen hisses, kicking him under the table.

"What? We all saw it." He shrugs unapologetically. "I'm just asking for details."

"Nothing new, really," I reply, tearing my bread into small pieces. "Just how I’m a total failure, an embarrassment to the academy, and probably going to wind up as a bloodstain during the Crucible.”