Page 21 of Shadows of Change

I can't help but laugh. "Got it in one. How'd you know?"

He grins, falling into step beside me as we start walking. "Let's just say I've had my fair share of 'interesting' chats with her. So, where are you headed next?"

"Thorne's class," I say, then groan. "Please tell me it's not another three-hour endurance test."

Aspen's laugh is rich and warm. "Nah, today's all theory, probably. Though with Thorne, that might be even more painful." He pauses, then adds casually, "I've got him next too. Mind if I walk with you?"

"Oh, um, sure," I stammer, caught off guard by the offer. Is he just being nice? Or...? No, don't be ridiculous, Kaia.

We walk in companionable silence for a moment, and I can't help but notice how Aspen seems to part the crowd effortlessly. Students move out of his way without him even trying, like he has some kind of invisible forcefield. Must be nice.

"So," Aspen says, breaking the silence. "How are you settling in? Besides the 'interesting' chats and endurance tests, I mean."

I consider the question, absently watching Mouse weave between our legs as we walk. For some reason I feel like I can actually talk to Aspen. I have no idea why, but he makes me want me to pull down the walls I’ve built up so high over the years. My shadows trail behind us like a living cape, occasionally reaching out to brush against passing students who get too close. "It's... a lot," I admit. "Everything here is so different from what I'm usedto. The magic, the people, the sheer scale of it all. Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning in possibility."

Aspen nods, his expression softening. "I get that. It can be overwhelming, especially when you're still figuring out your place in it all."

"Exactly!" I exclaim, relieved that someone understands. "And don't even get me started on the whole faction rivalry thing. I swear, if one more person from Light gives me the stink-eye..."

Aspen winces sympathetically. "Ah, you've met Alenya, haven't you?"

I'm about to answer as we enter the underground training area, and my jaw drops to the floor. The space is vast, cathedral-like, with black marble pillars rising into shadows above us. Glowing runes run along the walls in mesmerizing patterns, and the air thrums with contained power.

Aspen smirks beside me. "It's something, isn't it?"

"You're not kidding." His chuckle calms me as we move deeper into the vast space.

Mouse tries to follow me in, but Thorne appears in front of us, his presence filling the space like a physical force. "No familiars in the combat arena." His tone brooks no argument. "Safety protocols."

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.

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, but something about it feels wrong - too rigid, too forced. My ownshadows 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."

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