The air is crisp and clean, carrying the scent of pine needles and cool earth. A low fire crackles at the edge of the clearing, its flames dancing as if in reverence. Around it, a circle of tents, simple and elegant, their flaps open to the night.

In the heart of the clearing, the sound of rhythmic clash and scuffle fills the air. Two figures move with deadly grace, bronze blades flashing in the moonlight. Reyna, her dark hair pulled back in a severe braid, presses an attack, her movements all controlled aggression. Thalia, electrified and quick, parries and dodges, a feral grin on her face.

Their blades sing. Their boots scuff against the packed earth. The contest is even, until Reyna feints low, and Thalia stumbles back, a breath short. The exchange breaks.

Near the fire, three figures remain seated, observing the scene with varying degrees of amusement and serenity. The goddess Artemis herself sits on a flat stone, her silver bow resting across her knees. She is meticulously attending to an arrow's fletching, her fingers moving with the precision of the huntress she is. To her right, a girl with dark, wavy hair and a mischievous glint in her eyes — Bianca di Angelo — watches the argument unfold with a smirk. And nestled between them, her dark curls cropped short, is Zoë Nightshade, her gaze fixed on the sparring pair with a calm, steely detachment.