Page 26 of Shadows of Change

How can I possibly measure up?

As we file out of the combat arena, my mind whirls like a tempest. The Dignus Trials. The words echo in my head, each repetition amplifying the dread that's settled deep in my bones. My shadows writhe anxiously, their usually playful movements now frantic and erratic. Bob keeps darting ahead, then rushing back as if he can't decide whether to scout or protect. Patricia's busy muttering to herself, probably compiling lists of every magical skill I need to master in the next few weeks. And Finnick? He's alternating between dramatic fainting spells and what I can only describe as shadow push-ups.

I hang back as the others start up the winding staircase, my gaze drawn to Torric's broad shoulders. Unlike the rest of us, he and Aspen hadn't seemed shocked by Thorne's announcement. Curious and desperate for any insight, I fall into step beside him.

"Hey," I say, trying to keep my voice casual. "Can I ask you something?"

Torric grunts, which I take as assent. Up close, I can see the tension in his jaw, the way his golden eyes flicker with something that looks suspiciously like concern.

"You didn't look surprised," I press on. "About the trials, I mean. Did you... know about them?"

He's quiet for a long moment, and I start to think he's going to ignore me. But then he sighs, running a hand through his wild mane of hair. "Yeah," he admits gruffly. "I knew."

"How?" I ask, my curiosity piqued. I would have asked Aspen, but something he'd said earlier about their father had made me hesitate. "I mean, everyone else looked like Thorne had just announced we were going to be fed to dragons or something."

A wry smile tugs at Torric's lips. "Dragon-feeding is next semester," he quips, but there's no real humor in his voice.

We reach a landing, and Torric pauses, leaning against the cool stone wall. The torchlight casts flickering shadows across his face, making him look older, more serious than I've ever seen him.

"Our father," he begins, his voice low, "he's... well, he's friends with Thorne. Has been for as long as I can remember."

I blink, surprised. "Your dad is friends with that... that..."

"Pompous, terrifying asshole?" Torric supplies helpfully.

I can't help but laugh, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. "Yeah, that."

Torric nods, his expression growing somber again. "Aspen and I, we've been training for these trials our entire lives. Father made sure of it."

The weight of his words hits me like a physical blow. My shadows curl protectively around my ankles, sensing my distress. "Your entire lives?" I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper.

Torric's golden eyes meet mine, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. He nods slowly, his voice dropping even lower. "Typically, magic manifests around twelve or thirteen, when puberty hits. It's this whole big thing – a coming of age moment, you know?"

I nod, even though it’s not the same as what happened to me. I’ve always had my magic and my shadows, as far back as I can remember.

"But for us," Torric continues, his voice tight, "it was different. On our fifth birthday, our father..." He pauses, his fists clenching at his sides. "He forced these runes on us."

My eyes widen in shock, and I instinctively reach out to touch the fiery wolf emblazoned on his chest. Torric flinches slightly but doesn't pull away. Under my fingertips, I can feel a faint pulse of magic, wild and barely contained. It doesn’t escape me how he shivers at my touch.

"Forced?" I whisper, horrified. "But how? Why?"

Torric's laugh is bitter, devoid of any real humor. "To give us an edge. To make us stronger, faster, more powerful than our peers. The runes aren't natural, Kaia. They're..." He struggles for a moment, searching for the right word. "They're cheating, essentially."

My shadows writhe in agitation, picking up on my distress. Bob puffs up indignantly, while Patricia seems to be furiously taking mental notes. Finnick, in a rare moment of seriousness, wraps a comforting tendril around my wrist.

"But that's not the worst part," Torric continues, his voice barely above a whisper. The torchlight flickers, casting deep shadows across his face, making him look haunted. "When we hit puberty, when our natural magic should have manifested... nothing happened."

The ache in my chest grows for this man. What he and Aspen must have endured. "You mean..."

He nods grimly. "The runes interfered with our natural magical development. Aspen and I, we should have had powerful shadow magic, like you. But because of what our father did..." His voice trails off, thick with emotion.

The torchlight flickers, casting restless shadows across Torric’s face. His fists clench at his sides, and I can hear the strain in his voice as if the words themselves are painful to say.

The corridor suddenly feels too small, too confining. My heart aches for Torric, for Aspen, for the choices that were stolen from them before they were old enough to understand. My shadows stretch out, instinctively seeking to comfort, to protect.

I thought about the way my shadows seemed to have a life of their own, how they sometimes acted without my permission. Would I feel the same loss as Torric if someone had tried to cage them?

"That's why," Torric says, his eyes fixed on my writhing shadows with a mix of longing and resignation, "that's why I sometimes come across as... well, an ass. Especially about magic. It's not that I don't respect what you can do, Kaia. It's just..."

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