The training hall smelled of smoke and stone dust. Its walls were thick, reinforced with wards designed to withstand the backlash of students testing their gifts. But even those wards flickered uneasily tonight, as if aware of what they were about to contain.
Alaric stood at the center of the circle, his fists clenched, the amber stone burning faintly against his chest. Clem and Darvin flanked him, each gripping weapons that Eldrin had rune-bound for practice.
And watching from the shadows of the hall was Master Kael.
His arms were crossed, his eyes gleaming sharp in the torchlight. He had been the one to suggest this session, volunteering to "oversee" Alaric's control training. To the others, it seemed an act of responsibility. To Alaric, it felt more like a test.
"Again," Kael commanded, his voice low and steady.
Alaric swallowed hard, lifted his hand, and reached inward. The power was always there — burning and freezing at once, light and shadow colliding in his chest. It wasn't like Rudra's guiding presence or Kenive's divine fire. It was raw. Wild. Hungry.
He tried to shape it into flame. For a heartbeat, a small orb of light appeared in his palm. But then the shadows surged, twisting it black, and the orb exploded outward. The wards groaned, cracks snaking across the floor.
Darvin dove aside, rolling back to his feet with a sharp grin. "Not bad, but maybe next time, aim away from my face?"
Clem's dagger glowed as she deflected a stray lash of shadow. "Focus, Alaric! You can't let it take over — you guide it, not the other way around!"
Alaric staggered, his breath ragged. "I'm trying!"
Kael stepped forward, his presence pressing down like a weight. "Trying is not enough. You hesitate. You fear what's inside you. That fear makes you weak."
Alaric turned toward him, frustration boiling in his chest. "You're the one who wanted me sealed! Why are you even helping me?"
Kael's expression was unreadable, carved from stone. "Because weakness invites death. If you must remain unbound, then at least learn to wield what you are. Otherwise, the next time the Hollow Ones come, you won't survive long enough to regret it."
Clem shot him a sharp look. "There's a difference between teaching and breaking someone."
Kael ignored her, his gaze never leaving Alaric. "Again."
Alaric's hands trembled as he reached inward once more. He pictured Clem's steady courage, Darvin's unshakable grin, Eldrin's faith. He forced the shadows back, feeding light into the core of his power.
This time, the orb in his palm grew steadier. Golden fire rippled outward, edged with black, flickering but contained.
Clem let out a breath. "There. That's it."
Darvin whistled low. "Now that's something I wouldn't want aimed at me."
But Kael only tilted his head. "Barely adequate. Do you think that will stop Eryndor? Do you think it will stop me if I decide you've lost control?"
The orb faltered in Alaric's hand, the shadows threatening to surge again. Anger burned in his chest.
"Why do you hate me so much?" he snapped. "Why do you look at me like I'm already lost?"
For a moment, Kael was silent. Then he stepped closer, his face shadowed.
"Because I have seen what vessels become. I have seen light rot into shadow, power twist into hunger. You think you are different. You are not. One day, the Hollow Ones will stop bowing and start feasting, and when that day comes, the blood on the floor will be yours. Or worse — theirs."
His eyes flicked to Clem and Darvin.
Alaric's chest heaved. Rage and fear tangled inside him, sparking against the unstable orb. The light shattered, shadows flaring out. Clem threw up her dagger's ward, Darvin grabbed his arm to steady him.
"Easy, brother," Darvin said, his grin fading into something gentler. "You've got this. Don't let him get to you."
Clem's voice was sharp but grounding. "Kael wants you to lose control. Prove him wrong. Show him you can stand on your own."
Alaric's jaw tightened. He pulled the power back, forcing the shadows to bend, to coil inward instead of lashing out. The orb flickered — then steadied again, brighter, sharper.
Kael's eyes narrowed, unreadable. "Better." He turned away, his cloak swirling behind him. "But not enough."
As he disappeared into the shadows of the hall, Darvin muttered, "What a delight he is."
Clem sheathed her dagger, stepping closer to Alaric. "He's wrong about you. Don't let him twist you into thinking otherwise."
Alaric let the orb fade, his knees buckling. Clem caught him on one side, Darvin on the other.
"I don't know if he's wrong," Alaric admitted softly. "Every time I touch this power, I feel it pulling. Like it wants me to give in."
Darvin tightened his grip on his shoulder. "Then don't. That's the whole point, isn't it? You've got us. We'll keep you steady."
Clem nodded. "And Eldrin. He believes in you, no matter what Kael says."
Alaric's gaze dropped to the amber stone, still faintly pulsing. Rudra's silence weighed on him, but for the first time tonight, he didn't feel entirely empty.
Maybe Kael was right about one thing: this power could destroy him. But maybe — just maybe — it could be shaped into something else.
And if he couldn't do it alone, he had Clem and Darvin. Together, they would make sure Kael was wrong.