Early morning, when Xuanxi opened her eyes, she realized that Hildegrifa was already awake, smiling at her.
From downstairs came the rhythmic sound of a hammer. It seemed Helasi was already working in the shop.
Xuanxi sat up in bed, her hair a tangled mess. Xige’s hair was also sticking up at the back. The two of them looked like a pair of frazzled kittens.
Helasi had already prepared breakfast. The usual: toast, jam, bacon, and a pot of steaming milk. The bacon was fried so crispy it nearly crumbled at a touch.
The three of them sat around the newly purchased solid wood dining table, enjoying a harmonious breakfast. Xuanxi picked a large piece of bacon, placed it in her toast, and took a big bite.
“Will you two go out again today?” he asked, his gaze falling on Xuanxi’s face.
“Mm, Xige and I are going out to practice magic. It’s a school assignment.” Xuanxi said, her mouth full of toast and bacon.
Helasi nodded. He didn’t ask when they would return. As he set down his milk, he simply said, “Go on. No need to rush back. Young people should explore the world outside, especially with good friends.”
Xuanxi looked at him. His expression revealed nothing, but she felt there was something in his eyes when he said that—something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
In the afternoon, the two set out from the town, heading north along the gravel path. Helasi stood at the entrance of the blacksmith’s shop, hammer in hand, watching them until they disappeared from sight, then turned back inside.
The wheat fields on both sides of the path had been harvested, leaving only bare stubble—a desolate sight. Xuanxi walked beside Hildegrifa.
Their hair lifted in the wind, intertwining in the air. They walked shoulder to shoulder, feeling each other’s warmth even through their winter clothes.
After about half an hour, a clearing appeared ahead. The ground was overgrown with wild grass. To the west, a small river flowed; the water was cold, emitting a faint chill—perfect for Xuanxi’s element.
Xuanxi stood by the river and took a deep breath. The air was damp with river moisture.
She looked up at the sky; thick dark clouds pressed in from the north, covering the sky completely. Thunder rumbled deep within the clouds, rolling from far to near—a sign that heavy rain was coming.
The air suddenly became stuffy and humid. The wind stopped. The world fell silent. This stillness felt abnormal, as if some pressure had forcefully suppressed all sound.
Xuanxi could clearly feel the moisture in the air growing heavier. Each breath filled her lungs with dampness, like being licked all over by a dog’s tongue on a scorching summer day.
Her skin tingled—the water spiritual energy inside her responding to the moisture in the air, like a little brother finding a big shot to latch onto.
“Great spot. And this weather is perfect for us to practice magic.” Xuanxi spread her arms, tilted her head back, and looked at the sky. Her ink-green hair lifted in the wind, flowing behind her.
“Let the storm come, even fiercer!”
Her voice echoed around, startling a few birds perched on treetops.
Hildegrifa stood beside her, watching the churning clouds above, then glancing at Xuanxi with her arms spread wide and a look of impassioned fervor.
She couldn’t help but raise her hand to her forehead and rub her temple with long fingers. She sighed, the breath slowly dissipating in the cold air.
“What are you shouting for?” Her voice was full of exasperation.
“Don’t you think it’s fitting?” Xuanxi lowered her arms and curved her lips.
Hildegrifa didn’t respond. She raised her right hand, and a ball of silver-white lightning light easily formed at her fingertips. Tiny arcs of electricity jumped from her fingertips to her palm, crackling.
The lightning element was much more responsive than usual; it surged on its own without Xige having to actively channel it.
“Lightning magic is more powerful during thunderstorms,” she said. “You’re right. This is indeed good weather.”
“Mine too, for water magic.” Xuanxi extended her hand, palm up. Water surged from her palm and, in the blink of an eye, condensed into a transparent sphere above her hand.
It was more than twice as fast as usual—the water sphere formed almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind. The water was also clearer and more translucent than before, shimmering like a pearl in the light.
She could feel the moisture in the air uncontrollably drawing closer to her, like little brothers finding a big shot to follow. She tossed the water sphere into the air.
It burst at its peak, scattering into countless fine water droplets, like a small rain shower. Hildegrifa didn’t dodge. The droplets streamed down her hair, dripping onto her ink-green scarf.
“Let’s start training then,” she said.
Lightning light flickered at her fingertips, the silver-white arcs especially dazzling. A water sphere also reformed in Xuanxi’s palm, flowing continuously.
The two stood in the withered yellow wilderness, with churning clouds and darting lightning overhead, and rustling dry grass underfoot, with the river flowing in the distance.
Another thunderclap came from afar, this time closer and more powerful, shaking the dry branches in the shrubbery. A few decayed branches snapped off and fell to the ground.
Lightning light and water spheres interwove over the clearing for an entire afternoon.
Xuanxi retreated from the clearing to the riverbank, alternating water blades in both hands while conjuring a water screen in front to block Hildegrifa’s lightning strikes. Water mist spread behind her, trying to obscure Xige’s vision.
***
Meanwhile, Hildegrifa’s lightning light could strike from any angle. Silver-white arcs exploded in the air, blasting craters into the river’s surface.
The two fought for a long time—so long that Xuanxi lost count of how many water magic spells she had used, and Hildegrifa’s lightning light faded from dazzling silver-white to a dim pale gray. They only stopped when both sides were nearly out of spiritual energy.
Xuanxi picked herself up from the ground. Her clothes were covered in mud, and her hair was stuck with dry grass and dead leaves.
On the other side of the river, Hildegrifa was no better off. Her long hair was plastered to her face by the rain, and the scarf Xuanxi had given her had been removed, revealing her pale white neck.
Their eyes met. In those eyes, Xuanxi saw the same expression as her own—refusal to admit defeat.
“One more time,” Xuanxi said.
Hildegrifa nodded. She raised her right hand, and lightning light flickered at her fingertips again. This time, she didn’t shoot it out directly. Instead, she let it condense in her palm.
Silver-white arcs danced at her fingertips, gathering denser and brighter, like a compressed sun—clearly formidable. Xuanxi looked at the ball of lightning and suddenly had an idea.