Eirin grunted in agreement. “And reinforce them properly so she doesn’t bring the whole damn training grounds down.”
Rhosyn leaned in, her eyes settling on Sorcha. “And I’ll help you control that power. You need precision, not just strength. If you want to wield it properly, you’ll have to learn how to manipulate it, not just let it explode.”
Sorcha turned to Cat, narrowing her eyes. “And you didn’t think to mention that you could help earlier because…?”
Cat stretched lazily, flicking his tail. “Where’s the fun in that?” His silver eyes gleamed with mischief. “Besides, nothing like a little pressure to bring out the best in you.”
Sorcha exhaled loudly. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, you keep me around.”
Eirin drummed his fingers against the table. “The commander will enhance the horses, so we can make it to Samhain in a day’s ride, but that still only gives us three days to prepare. If we’re doing this, we do it right.”
Sorcha’s chest tightened as she looked at them, at the weight they had taken on without hesitation.
She took a breath and nodded. “Then we start now.”
Chapter 54
Training
The field stretched wide, golden grass swaying in the late afternoon October breeze. At the far edge of town, where an old patrol tower stood unoccupied, Sorcha rolled her shoulders, trying to ignore the nervous energy humming in her chest. She had spent the past few days avoiding her emotions, but now, standing opposite Rhosyn, there was no more time to run from what she was.
“You need to stop thinking so much,” Rhosyn said, crossing her arms, her eyes studying Sorcha like a puzzle she intended to solve. “Magic isn’t just power, it’s the connection. It’s no different than using our runes. You’re not wielding a weapon. You’re commanding a part of yourself. You need to feel it, not force it.”
Sorcha exhaled slowly. “Alright. So, what? I just… tell it what to do? It doesn’t work like the runes or Druid magic, it does what it wants.”
“Not tell. Listen. Listen to your body Sorcha.” Rhosyn’s voice softened. She knelt down, pressing her hands to the ground. “Your Magic is alive. The world responds when you understand how to ask. Watch.”
At her touch, the earth shifted. Green tendrils of vine slithered from the soil, weaving together in intricate, writhing knots. Then, with barely a flick of her wrist, the vines snapped forward, wrapping around Sorcha’s arms and legs. Before she could react, she was yanked into the air.
“Rhosyn!” Sorcha yelped, struggling as the vines held her aloft, suspending her midair.
Rhosyn only grinned. “See? The vines listen. They trust me.”
She made a small motion with her fingers, and the vines twisted again, gently lowering Sorcha before setting her on her feet.
Sorcha glared at her. “I had no idea how powerful you are! You could’ve warned me.”
“Why else would I be head of magic? I’ve been doing this awhile, the more you cast it, the better you’ll get” She smirked “Oh, and you could’ve stopped that attack, you’ve been slacking on your rune training,” Rhosyn countered, raising a brow. “That’s what we’re here for.
With a flick of her hand, she gestured toward the towering trees surrounding the field. At her silent call, the branches groaned as they twisted downward, the limbs stretching unnaturally before whipping out violently, striking at the air.
“You’re part of this world, Sorcha but also the otherworld. You have to feel that other part of you, locked away somewhere, hidden. Find it.” Rhosyn stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Close your eyes.”
Sorcha hesitated, then obeyed.
“Breathe deep. Feel the sun on your skin, the ground beneath your feet. What does your magic do when the light touches them?”
Sorcha’s body slowed. She felt the warmth of the sun filtering through her skin, igniting deep within her, she thought of the battle, Commander Nethran, the Fomorians, Emry. Her runes tingled, no, they burned, with a steady rhythm that matched her own heartbeat. She reached for that feeling, let herself sink into it.
Then, light erupted from her.
A brilliant white blast flared across the field, blinding but not painful. Rhosyn turned her face away from the sheer intensity of it. When the light dimmed enough for her to see, she gasped. Sorcha stood at the center of it all, transformed.
Her runes, once a faint glow, now shone like molten starlight, white hot against her skin. Her hair shimmered with fiery gold, catching the light in restless flickers. Her eyes, no longer green, had turned to swirling liquid gold, flecked with large specks of emerald.
Sorcha stared at her hands, her fingers trembling. The runes along her arms glowed faintly, still radiating soft tendrils of white light.
