Page 27 of Shadows of Change

"You're mourning what you lost," I finish softly, understanding dawning.

He nods, a vulnerability in his eyes that I've never seen before. He takes a deep breath, his mask slipping back into place before he turns abruptly, leaving me there alone.

A tear escapes for those poor boys and what was done to them. I brush the tear away, trying to steel myself. Torric had been forced to fight with borrowed power, but my magic is my own—wild, unpredictable, and untamed. How can I possibly shape it into something worthy of the trials?

16. Kaia

We’ve all made our way back to the Shadow Faction, and I’ve been staring out the window in the common room for longer than I’d like to admit.

"Hey, you okay there, Trouble?"

Finn's voice interrupts my spiraling thoughts. His arm slides around my shoulders, and I find myself leaning into him despite my best efforts to maintain some dignity. Even my shadows settle at his touch, though Bob seems determined to pat my head consolingly—which feels exactly like being brushed by a concerned cobweb.

"I'm fine," I lie, my voice brittle. "Just peachy. You know, if peaches were rotten and filled with maggots of self-doubt."

"Well, that's a delightfully gross metaphor." Finn squeezes my shoulder. "But seriously, Kaia, you've got this. We've all got this." He pauses, watching as Finnick attempts what appears to be a motivational shadow-dance. "And hey, at least your personal cheerleading squad seems confident."

I want to believe him. But as I look out at the academy grounds I can’t help but feel overwhelmed.

I’m never going to be enough.

Finn's arms move, tightening around my waist as he shifts, settling behind me, his chin resting on my shoulder, and I can't help but place my hands over his where they rest on my stomach. The warmth of his body seeps into me, chasing away some of the chill that's settled in my bones.

I’m not used to touch, to this closeness, but with Finn it seems natural. It fills me with a warmth that’s unfamiliar but welcome.

Outside, the academy grounds stretch before us, bathed in the soft glow of twilight. The ancient trees sway gently, their leaves shimmering with an otherworldly iridescence. In the distance, the spires of the Observatory pierce the darkening sky, their crystalline surfaces catching the last rays of sunlight and refracting them in a dazzling display of color.

"You know," Finn murmurs, his breath tickling my ear, "I think we could all use a bit of practice. What do you say we round up the gang and have ourselves a little shadow-slinging session?"

I consider his offer, watching as a group of students from the Light Faction glide by on shimmering discs of pure radiance. Their laughter carries on the evening breeze, a sense of longing for freedom like that washes over me.

"Yeah," I finally agree, my voice barely above a whisper. "That might be good.”

As I lean back against Finn, I become acutely aware of a certain... firmness pressing against me. Heat rushes to my cheeks as I realize the effect our closeness is having on him. Part of me wants to tease him about it, but I'm too emotionally drained to summon my usual snark.

Instead, I turn in his arms, meeting his gaze. His green eyes are dark with a mix of desire and concern, and for a moment, I let myself get lost in them. It's easier than facing the doubts that threaten to consume me.

"Alright, let's do this," I say, injecting a confidence into my voice that I don't quite feel. "But if Bob tries to give anyone a shadow wedgie again, I'm calling it quits."

Finn's laugh rumbles through his chest, and I can't help but smile in response. As we step away from the window, my shadows swirl around us, seeming to pulse with renewed energy.

???

We reach the combat arena—other students already practicing spells, and huddled in strategic discussions—I can't shake the feeling that I'm drowning in expectations. Thorne's offer of private lessons echoes in my mind, tempting and terrifying. Patricia's frantic shadow-scribbling of what look like evacuation plans isn't helping my anxiety.

Mouse growls softly at my feet, probably unimpressed with my escape fantasy. Leaving would mean giving up the first place I've ever felt like I might belong. Even my shadows have found their niche, with Bob playing sergeant to the smaller wisps.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"Promise me something?"

He grins at me, wrapping his arm over my shoulders again, green eyes twinkling. "Anything for you, Trouble. Except maybe my last cookie. A man's got to have limits." He shrugs. "But honestly, I'd probably give you that too."

I take a moment, needing to push back that hint of vulnerability in his tone.

"Promise me that when I inevitably crash and burn in these trials, you'll at least make my eulogy funny?"

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