I glance at Mouse, remembering Lira's words about ancient magic and guardians. But before I can explain, Thorne adds, "Even exceptional ones, Ms. Draven."
Mouse's violet eyes narrow, but he retreats, his form melting into the shadows near the doorway. I swear I catch Thorne watching with unusual interest, his dark eyes gleaming with something that makes my shadows curl defensively.
Asshole.
Chapter 14
Kaia
The arena is arranged in a semicircle, with students positioned at intervals marked by glowing runes. Black marble pillars rise around us this time, their surfaces carved with ancient symbols that seem to writhe in the flickering light. My shadows reach out curiously toward the nearest rune, only to recoil as if stung.
"Combat magic requires precision," Thorne announces, his voice echoing off the stone. "Shadow manipulation in battle can mean the difference between life and death. There is no room for... improvisation."
His gaze settles on me as he says the last word, and I feel my shadows bristle, one tendril slinking toward him before I can rein it in. Through the high windows, I glimpse Mouse's form darting past, checking on me. His violet eyes gleam with concern.
"Today, we'll practice offensive constructs," Thorne continues. "Watch carefully."
He raises one hand, and shadows coalesce into a perfect blade, its edge sharp enough to slice through the demonstration dummy without touching it. The control is impressive, butsomething about it feels wrong - too rigid, too forced. My own shadows shrink away from his demonstration, as if sensing something unnatural in his technique.
"Ms. Draven." Thorne's voice snaps me back to attention. "Demonstrate."
“I’m good.” I manage, because no way do I want to do this.
He sneers, “It wasn’t a request.” Irritation visible on his face.
I reluctantly step forward, uncomfortably aware of everyone watching. My shadows swirl around my feet, agitated by the pressure. I try to shape my shadow magic as Thorne did, but it resists, wanting to move in its own way. The jewel around my neck seems to glow, its rhythm slightly erratic.
Control,” Thorne snaps, like the word itself is a weapon. My jaw tightens, but I feel the cracks forming—his disdain hitting where I’m already weak. My shadows twist tighter, confused by my anger, or maybe reflecting it. I can’t even tell anymore.
Thorne steps closer, adjusting my stance with precise movements that make my shadows recoil. "Again. Power without control is chaos, and chaos has no place in combat."
“I beg to differ!” I hear Finn yell from somewhere behind me. The snickers that follow will only encourage him.
I try again, focusing on pulling shadow magic from the darkness around me rather than using my personal shadows, which are still writhing unhappily at my feet. This time, the construct holds its shape better, though it's not nearly as precise as Thorne's.
"Better," he says, but his eyes are fixed on my personal shadows with an intensity that makes my skin crawl. "Though you have... additional resources at your disposal. Consider using them."
"Raw talent is rare," Thorne continues, pitching his voice so only I can hear. "But without proper guidance, it can be... dangerous. Both to yourself and others."
Something in his tone makes me think he's not just talking about standard shadow magic anymore. I force myself to meet his gaze, though my shadows quiver with unease. "I'm learning control."
"Are you?" His eyes flick meaningfully to where one of my shadows has started creeping toward him again. I hadn't even noticed. "Perhaps you could benefit from some additional instruction. Private lessons, to help you... focus your gifts."
Before I can respond, I feel a steadying presence beside me. Aspen. The air around him seems cooler, calming. "Professor," he says smoothly, "should we practice the defensive formations next?"
Thorne's expression shifts, becoming more distant. "Indeed. Everyone pair up. Ms. Draven, work with Mr. Agere. His control might prove... instructive."
As we move into position, Aspen murmurs, "You okay?"
I nod, though my shadows are still agitated. "Yeah. Thanks."
"The key," Aspen says as we square off, "is to work with the magic, not against it." His voice is calm, steadying. "Shadow magic responds to intention as much as will."
Easy for him to say. His shadow construct flows like water, forming a perfect shield. Mine still feels raw, unfinished, like trying to sculpt with smoke.
"Intention, not force," he reminds me gently.
“How do you even know all this?” I ask because seriously Aspen is like a professor with how much he knows.
