Beads of sweat fell from her forehead as she drew her feet apart and readied herself. She had been practicing the same spell, the same gesture and the same breath for over a few hours now, but she still couldn’t get it right. She gripped the wand in her hand and brought it up to her face. And as she drew in a breath, she closed her eyes.

Like a rekindled flame, she felt the energy within her burst into life as it began to swirl in her body. And gritting her teeth, she dragged it to the center of her chest as she searched for the barren land made of light. She searched for glowing orbs that would guide her and even for the smallest of glimmers. But when her body began to tremble and her hands began to shake, she gripped her wand harder than she had ever before and again she drew in a breath, a quick one, to still the coiling energy that threatened to burst at the second.

However, still, she could hold it no more.

Her eyes snapped open in panic as she quickly withdrew her hand from her face and slashed it sideways to her right as the energy burst and surged from her chest with a speed she had never felt before and exploded from the tip of her wand. But such sensations would betray her as what came out of the wand was a measly screen of smoke that quickly dissipated into the air. She stared at nothing in disbelief, and palmed her face.

A voice came from her side and this caused her to groan for the voice said, in a manner that didn’t hide its boredom, “You’ve been at this since the roosters started cackling.”

She gave a glance to her left where her spectator had been watching her since she had begun her practice at the crack of dawn, and said while turning, “I haven’t. There are no roosters in the capital.”

Such a response elicited a surprised look on her spectator’s face, but with a smile, her spectator said, “That’s true. You couldn’t have been at this ‘since the rooster’s started cackling’ if there are no roosters in the capital. That’s true, that’s true.” And she accentuated her last sentence with two nods. Drawing nearer to her, her spectator proposed with an outstretched arm, “Why not have a round against me? It’s sure to be better than whatever it is you’ve been doing for the last”—she opened the pocketwatch dangling from her side—“four hours or so.”

“Will you be alright?”

“Yes,” her spectator drawled. And with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, she added, “I’m not as weak as you think, unnie.”

“I never said that, Yerim.” She frowned.

Low footsteps that echoed on the marble floors of the pavilion was the response, and that made her grip the wand in her hand again. But she kept her arm to her side as she watched the young girl walk away from her, to the side opposite of her, and then turn to her with a smile that