The Shadow Between Us

Chapter Seven: Training in Shadows

The days leading up to the blood moon passed in a blur of sweat, frustration, and the growing weight of what lay ahead. Training wasn’t a choice anymore—it was survival. If the Circle of Thirteen wanted to use me, they’d have to fight me first.

Kael was relentless. Every morning, we met in the clearing behind my grandmother’s house, where the woods thinned just enough to let in pale streaks of light. He’d started by teaching me the basics of control, but as the blood moon approached, his methods became harsher. Less theory, more trial by fire.

“Again,” he said, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed.

I glared at him, wiping the sweat from my brow. “You’ve said that five times already.”

“And you’ve failed five times. Again.”

Clenching my fists, I turned toward the boulder he’d placed at the edge of the clearing. It was massive, its surface rough and jagged, and the task was simple: move it. No spells, no incantations. Just me and my magic.

Closing my eyes, I reached for the energy Kael had taught me to find—the hum in the air, the rhythm in the earth beneath my feet. I drew it in, letting it flow through me like a current, and focused it on the boulder.

At first, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the rock began to shift, scraping against the ground as it moved a few inches forward. A surge of excitement coursed through me, but it was short-lived. The energy slipped from my grasp, and the boulder settled back into place.

I let out a frustrated groan. “This is impossible.”

“It’s not impossible,” Kael said, his voice calm but firm. “You’re holding back.”

I spun to face him. “Maybe that’s because I don’t want to lose control and level the entire forest.”

His expression softened, just a little. “You’re afraid of your power. That’s normal. But fear doesn’t help you—it binds you. If you want to win, you have to stop fighting yourself.”

“And if I can’t?” I asked, my voice quieter.

He stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “Then the Circle will win. And trust me, Seraphina, you don’t want that.”

After hours of training, I returned to the house exhausted, my muscles aching and my mind spinning. My grandmother was in the kitchen, stirring a pot of something that smelled faintly of herbs and smoke. She glanced up as I entered, her sharp eyes narrowing.

“You’re pushing too hard,” she said, her tone disapproving.

“I don’t have a choice,” I muttered, grabbing a glass of water. “The Circle isn’t going to wait for me to catch up.”

“They’ll wait long enough,” she said, setting the spoon down with a clatter. “They’re patient, Seraphina. They’ve been planning this for decades. You rushing into their trap isn’t going to help anyone.”

I hesitated, her words sinking in. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

She wiped her hands on a towel and turned to face me fully. “Magic isn’t about force. It’s about balance. If you keep trying to bend it to your will, you’ll only break yourself.”

“Kael doesn’t seem to think balance matters,” I said, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

“Kael isn’t a Keeper,” she snapped. “He doesn’t understand what it means to carry this power—to carry this responsibility.”

Her words stung, but I didn’t argue. She was right. Kael’s power, whatever it was, came from a different place. Mine was older, heavier. And if I didn’t learn to control it, it would destroy me.

That night, I sat on the floor of my room with my mother’s grimoire open in front of me. The pendant my grandmother had given me rested in the palm of my hand, its faint hum steady and comforting.

I flipped through the pages, looking for something—anything—that might help. Most of the spells were beyond my understanding, their language ancient and cryptic. But then I found a section titled The Keeper’s Bond.

The first line sent a chill down my spine: To be a Keeper is to walk the line between light and darkness, to wield the shadows without succumbing to them.

Beneath it was a simple spell, one meant to strengthen the connection between a Keeper and their magic. It required focus, intent, and a single drop of blood.

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the page. Every instinct told me this was dangerous, that I wasn’t ready. But the memory of the shadow in the woods, of its voice whispering my name, pushed me forward.

Grabbing a small knife from my desk, I pricked my finger and let a single drop of blood fall onto the page. The symbols began to glow, faint at first, then brighter, until the entire room was bathed in their light.

The air around me shifted, growing heavier, and a strange warmth spread through my chest. It wasn’t unpleasant—if anything, it felt comforting, like being wrapped in a soft blanket. But beneath it was something darker, a flicker of shadow that coiled around the edges of my mind.

I gasped as the pendant around my neck grew hot, its hum turning into a low, steady vibration. The warmth and the shadow collided, spiraling through me in a whirlwind of light and dark, and for a moment, I felt… whole.

And then it was gone.

The light faded, the pendant cooled, and the grimoire’s pages returned to their normal, lifeless state. But something inside me had shifted. The hum of magic that I’d always struggled to grasp was no longer out of reach. It was there, pulsing faintly beneath my skin, waiting for me to call it.

I wasn’t sure if I should feel relieved—or terrified.

The next morning, Kael seemed to notice the change immediately. We were in the clearing again, and this time, when he told me to move the boulder, I didn’t hesitate.

Closing my eyes, I drew the energy in like before, but this time, it came easier. The boulder shifted under my will, scraping across the ground as I pushed it farther and farther. When I opened my eyes, it had moved nearly a foot, and the thrill of success sent a surge of adrenaline through me.

Kael’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “I just moved a rock the size of a car.”

“Don’t get cocky,” he said, though his tone was lighter than usual. “You’re still miles away from taking on the Circle.”

The reminder sobered me, and I nodded. “What’s next?”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering toward the woods. “Something more advanced. But it’s dangerous.”

“Good,” I said, surprising even myself. “I’m tired of holding back.”

He studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. Let’s see what you’re really capable of.”

As the blood moon grew closer, I could feel its pull, like a tide rising in the back of my mind. The shadows seemed to grow darker, their edges sharper, and the air hummed with an energy I couldn’t ignore.

I wasn’t ready—not yet. But I was closer. And when the time came, I wouldn’t face the Circle as the scared, uncertain girl I’d been.

I’d face them as a Keeper.