Page 38 of Trial By Fire

“Focus,” Malekith said. “Feel the shadows around you, the potential they carry. You need only reach out and seize it. Command it.”

Aric nodded, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps, and tried to do as Malekith said. But the power was wild, untamed, and it danced out of his grasp, writhing like it had come alive. He felt the darkness seeping into him, a cold, hungry presence, and he was afraid he would lose himself to it.

“Easy,” Malekith said, and Aric felt his hands on Aric’s hips, his thumbs brushing against the jut of Aric’s pelvis. “You are in control. You command the shadows, not the other way around.”

Aric nodded, his eyes squeezed shut, and forced himself to breathe. With a mental effort, he shaped the darkness, coaxing it to stillness. The shadows coiled around his outstretched hand, a living glove, and he felt a thrill of triumph.

“That’s it,” Malekith said. “Now, hold on to it. Let it flow through you.”

Aric’s eyes flew open, and he saw the shadowy appendage he’d conjured, the edges of it seeping and shifting. With a low incantation, he directed the shadow toward a nearby tree, focusing on the mental image of the bark. The shadowy tendril lashed out, and the tree’s bark peeled away in a shower of black scales.

Malekith’s grip on Aric’s hips tightened, and he let out a soft, pleased sound. “Excellent. You learn quickly.”

Aric’s face flushed at the praise, and he let the shadow dissipate, the darkness retreating back into the night. Malekith’shands were still on him, and Aric felt a jolt of awareness run through him at the heat of Malekith’s palms, the press of his fingers against Aric’s skin.

“Thank you,” Aric said, his voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. “Your guidance . . . it makes all the difference.”

He turned to face Malekith, and for a heartbeat, they simply looked at each other, the air between them charged. The heat of Malekith’s body radiated from him, a living flame, and he was drawn to it, unable to look away. He wanted to lose himself in that heat, to burn away everything that stood between them.

“Perhaps we should continue,” Malekith said. “Let’s see if you can manage that trick while you’re moving.”

Aric’s lips twitched with a smile. “You’re assuming I can keep up with you.”

Malekith laughed, a rich, velvety sound. “You’re doing just fine, my love.”

They began to circle each other in the center of the courtyard, weaving intricate patterns with their shadows as they moved. Malekith’s movements were sinuous, almost serpentine, and Aric found himself mesmerized by the play of moonlight on his skin. He tried to focus on his own magic, on the way the shadows clung to him like a second skin, but it was hard to tear his eyes away from Malekith.

“You’re not paying attention,” Malekith said, and Aric yelped as a tendril of shadow darted out to flick his ear.

Aric’s laugh was breathless as he raised his hands in surrender. “I never said I was a master of shadow magic.”

“You’re a quick study, at least.” Malekith’s smile was radiant as he drew closer to Aric, his shadow melding with Aric’s own. “And you already have a mastery of fire that I can only envy.”

Aric’s breath caught as Malekith’s face came into the light, his eyes glowing with an intensity that took Aric’s breathaway. He reached up to trace the curve of Malekith’s jaw, and Malekith’s breath hitched.

“Maybe we can teach each other a few things, then.”

Their shadows twined together, a dark, shifting mass, and Malekith’s smile was a promise.

Malekith guided Aric through the more advanced techniques of shadow-weaving, showing him how to create illusions, manipulate the shadows of others, and even transport himself short distances through the umbral pathways he crafted. The power was heady and intoxicating, but Malekith was always there, a steady hand at Aric’s back, guiding him, grounding him. And when Aric grew frustrated, when the power slipped out of his control, Malekith would draw him into his embrace, his warmth a balm against Aric’s cold, and whisper words of reassurance and praise until Aric’s heartbeat slowed, and the shadows around them dissipated.

But there were darker spells, too, that Malekith showed him, ones that made Aric’s skin prickle and his instincts scream at him to run. Spells that harnessed the void, spells from the demonic realm, and twisted it to Malekith’s will. Aric watched, both horrified and fascinated, as Malekith summoned shadowy claws that tore through stone, and a miasma that ate away at the very air. Malekith’s eyes gleamed with a fierce light as he demonstrated the spells, but there was a weariness in his movements, a strain that Aric couldn’t ignore.

“You must always be in control of the power,” Malekith said. “Never let it control you. It is a treacherous tune we follow, dancing on the edge of the void. But with the right guidance, the right discipline, you can harness that power, shape it to your will.”

And Aric tried, he really did. He wanted to make Malekith proud, to show him that he was worthy of the trust and the secrets that Malekith had shared with him. But the darkness wasa slippery thing, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t quite get a grip on it. It eluded him, taunting him with its potential, and Aric felt a surge of frustration that he couldn’t name.

“Aric,” Malekith said, and his hand was on Aric’s arm, a grounding weight. “You’re letting your emotions get the better of you. You must be calm, centered. The void will reflect whatever you bring to it. If you let it consume you, then that is what it will do.”

Aric was finding it hard to breathe, the weight of his own doubts pressing down on him. “I’m trying,” he said, and he hated the way his voice wavered, the way he sounded like a frightened boy.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” Malekith said, and there was a tenderness in his voice that made Aric’s throat ache. “I know this is all new to you, but you’re doing so well. You have a natural talent for it, a way of weaving magic that I’ve never seen before. But you must trust in yourself. In the power that lies within you.”

Aric closed his eyes, and let out a slow, shuddering breath. Malekith was right. He had to believe that he could do this, that he could control the darkness. For Malekith. For the both of them.

“Then show me,” Malekith said, a challenge in his voice. “Show me that you can control the darkness, that you can bend it to your will.”

Aric nodded, his jaw set, and closed his eyes. He drew on his magic, the golden fire that burned within him, and let it flow out, a river of light in the darkness. With a soft murmur of power, he shaped the shadows, coaxing them to his side. The darkness resonated with the power of his fire, a strange harmony that sent a shiver down his spine.

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