The morning air in Eldoria was nothing like Liora had ever breathed before. Even in the Courtyard of Shadows, where the sunlight filtered weakly through towers blackened with ancient stone, the air carried a weight—a subtle vibration that hinted at magic just beneath the surface. Every step she took felt heavier than it should have, and the mark on her wrist pulsed in a rhythm she couldn't yet decipher.
Kael walked beside her, silent, calculating, the very image of a predator that didn't tolerate weakness. His eyes flicked over the shifting patterns of the courtyard, noting every shadow, every whisper of movement, every magical signature he could sense. Liora tried to keep up, her mind buzzing with the events of the previous night, the Blood Moon, the ritual, the woman with violet eyes… the prophecy.
"You need to learn control," Kael said abruptly, breaking the silence. His voice carried over the distant hum of the Court, sharp and commanding. Liora flinched. The certainty in his tone left no room for argument.
"I don't even know where to start," she admitted. Her voice trembled slightly.
Kael stopped and turned to her, the red glow in his eyes flickering faintly like embers. "Then we start with understanding your power. The mark is not just a symbol. It is a key, a signal, and a conduit all at once. It will respond to emotion, fear, anger, instinct… and desire. That last one," he added, his voice dropping low, almost a growl, "is the most dangerous of all."
Liora's stomach twisted. "Desire?"
Kael's lips tightened. "Yes. Desire. It feeds the magic, but it also blinds it. That is why you must learn control. Before it controls you."
They entered a hall deeper into the Court, a chamber lined with obsidian walls etched with silver runes. In the center floated a circle of faintly glowing glyphs, spinning slowly, humming with energy. Kael gestured for her to step inside.
"Do it," he said. "Focus. Let it respond to you, not the other way around."
Her hands shook as she stepped into the circle. Immediately, the glyphs pulsed brighter, almost reacting to her heartbeat. Liora swallowed hard and tried to remember what Kael had said: emotion feeds it, but control guides it. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and concentrated on the rhythm of the symbol on her wrist.
The circle's light rippled. It surged and then retreated, hesitant. Liora's pulse raced. She opened her eyes and saw it: the glow of the glyphs began to respond to the flicker of fear in her chest, then to the anger that burned hot from the memory of the shadow cult, and finally to the curiosity that had never left her.
A tendril of light shot from the circle, coiling around her wrist like a ribbon. She gasped and tried to pull away, but Kael's hand gripped her elbow, firm and steady. "Do not fight it," he warned. "Control it. Speak to it. It listens if you know the right words."
Liora swallowed hard and whispered a word she didn't know she remembered, a word that felt older than the forest, older than Eldoria, older than herself. The tendril of light responded. It wrapped around her arm, then shot upward in a spiraling ribbon, coiling around her in a warm, almost soothing embrace. The mark burned brightly, and for the first time, she felt something akin to… mastery.
Kael's lips quirked slightly, almost imperceptibly. "Not bad," he said, though his eyes betrayed concern. "Not bad… but not complete. The mark is awakening faster than I expected. That means the cult will act sooner. And they won't wait for you to be ready."
Liora's stomach dropped. "Then what do I do?"
Kael didn't answer immediately. His jaw was tight, his gaze distant. Finally, he said, "You train. Every day. And you survive. But survival isn't enough. You must be ready to fight, to manipulate your magic, to use it as a weapon if necessary."
Her fingers curled around her wrist as the light dimmed slightly, leaving a faint glow under her skin. "And if I fail?"
Kael's eyes softened just enough to make her chest ache. "Then the kingdom burns," he said quietly, almost to himself. Then, as if realizing the weight of what he said, he shook his head and snapped back into command. "Now, enough words. Your training begins."
For hours, Liora practiced. She learned to summon sparks of light, to extend them as threads that could bind, probe, and even injure. She felt the energy thrumming through her veins, responding to her thoughts, her instincts, and even her emotions in unpredictable ways. At first, it was wild, untamed, and terrifying. Every surge of power left her exhausted, her muscles trembling, and yet… she couldn't stop. There was an addictive pull to it, a whisper at the edge of her mind that said: You are meant for this. You are more than you know.
Kael watched silently, stepping in only when she faltered or lost control. There were moments when his expression softened, and Liora caught glimpses of the man behind the prince, the cursed werewolf-demon heir, the one chained and hunted. But those moments were fleeting. Discipline returned quickly, sharp as a blade, and Liora was reminded that this was a dangerous game she had entered.
By the time the sun dipped below Eldoria's horizon, casting the city in a deep twilight, Liora was exhausted. Her wrist burned, her body ached, and her mind felt as if it had been pulled in every direction at once. And yet, she had done it. She had controlled the power for the first time, however briefly.
Kael guided her back to the chamber where she had slept, his steps silent, predatory. He didn't speak as he closed the door, but Liora felt his gaze linger, heavy and unreadable. She tried to meet his eyes, but he looked away, shoulders tense, and muttered something under his breath.
Before she could ask him to repeat it, a shadow moved along the wall, and her mark flared violently. She gasped. The shadow didn't belong to Kael. It shifted, stretched, and then a figure stepped into the doorway—a figure tall and cloaked, face hidden.
"Interesting," a voice whispered, soft and dangerous. "The Silent Witness learns quickly."
Liora's pulse hammered. She looked at Kael, but his expression was unreadable. The figure stepped closer, and the air in the room seemed to grow colder, heavier, charged with unseen energy.
"You should know," the figure said, voice silky yet sharp, "that every lesson has a price. And every power carries a shadow. Yours… may already be too late to control."
Liora's chest tightened. She opened her mouth to speak, but the figure vanished, leaving nothing but the faint scent of smoke and iron. Her mark throbbed, warning her of danger yet unseen.
Kael's hand shot out, gripping her shoulder. His eyes burned with urgency. "They're coming," he said, voice low and dangerous. "The cult knows you're here. And now… someone else does, too."
Liora swallowed hard, a mix of fear and something darker—curiosity—curling in her chest. She could feel it: this was just the beginning. The true danger, the real prophecy, the forces she had yet to face… were still waiting.
And deep down, she couldn't help but wonder: What exactly had she unleashed—and could she survive it?