Chapter 9 – A Hunger for Power
1007 Words
The candle burned low, flickering shadows across the stone walls of the tavern’s cellar. Tashiro sat cross-legged on the floor, his hands trembling as sparks of mana flickered between his fingers.
He had stolen away after Kaelen had fallen asleep, slipping into the cellar with a stolen candle and nothing but his thoughts.
He couldn’t stop hearing them.
Don’t trust anyone. Kaelen’s voice, sharp and cold.
Maybe I’ll be the one to save him. Elyndra’s voice, playful and sweet, but sharp enough to cut.
He clenched his fists, sparks dying against his skin. His breath came ragged, sweat rolling down his neck. Every time he tried to call the magic, it clawed back at him, surging like a storm he couldn’t control.
But he needed to control it.
If Avalycia wanted him dead, if everyone he met had a knife hidden behind their smile, then he couldn’t keep depending on others.
He couldn’t let himself be weak.
No more.
He opened his palms again, whispering under his breath. The mana stirred, faint at first, then growing, crackling with unstable light.
The cellar air thickened, humming, the candle flame bending toward him as though drawn to his power.
It felt intoxicating.
For a moment, he saw himself—strong, unbreakable, feared. No more begging for help. No more crawling from alleys.
He thrust his hands forward, releasing the energy.
It exploded.
The blast slammed into the far wall, ripping through stone and splintering wood. Dust filled the air, choking him as the candle toppled. The mana backfired, searing his chest, pain shooting through every nerve.
Tashiro collapsed, clutching his ribs, gasping for air.
He coughed, blood dripping from his lips. His vision swam.
And then he heard her voice.
“You really don’t value your life much, do you?”
His head snapped up.
Elyndra leaned casually against the cellar door, arms crossed, silver hair catching the faint candlelight. She smirked as if the collapsed wall, the dust, the blood meant nothing at all.
“How—” he rasped.
“You scream louder than you think when you play with forces you don’t understand.” She pushed off the wall and stepped closer, her emerald eyes gleaming. “You’ll tear yourself apart if you keep this up.”
Tashiro glared through the pain. “Then teach me.”
Elyndra tilted her head, amusement sparking in her eyes. “So eager. So desperate. Why should I?”
“Because I won’t survive otherwise,” he spat. His hands shook, not just from pain but from fury. “I’m done being weak. I’m done being everyone’s prey. If you want to see what I become, then help me become something worth watching.”
For the first time, her smile faltered. Just slightly.
She crouched in front of him, her gaze sharp and unblinking. “You don’t understand the hunger you’re feeding. Power here doesn’t just take—it devours. And it never stops once you give it your hand.”
Her voice lowered, almost a whisper. “Do you want that, Tashiro? To be devoured?”
He swallowed hard, his throat dry, his chest still burning. He thought of Kaelen’s blade cutting through enemies without hesitation. Of Elyndra’s vines crushing men like insects.
He thought of himself—weak, trembling, bleeding in the dirt.
“Yes.”
The word slipped out before he could stop it.
Elyndra studied him, the flickering light painting her expression half in shadow, half in fire. Then she smiled again, slow and dangerous.
“Then prove it.”
She stood, snapping her fingers. Vines erupted from the cracked stone, twisting into a crude dummy, its wooden frame snapping under the weight of her magic.
“Strike it,” she ordered.
Tashiro dragged himself to his feet, swaying. His body screamed, but his pride screamed louder. He raised his hands, forcing the mana forward.
It surged, wild, tearing at his veins. He focused, gritting his teeth, and hurled it at the dummy.
The blast struck true. The vines shredded, the wooden frame splintered. But again, the backlash tore through him, dropping him to his knees.
He coughed, more blood spilling from his lips. His body shook violently.
Elyndra watched, her expression unreadable. Then she crouched beside him, her hand brushing his cheek. Warmth spread where her fingers touched, soothing the worst of the pain.
“You’ll die if you keep forcing it,” she murmured.
Tashiro forced his head up, eyes burning. “Then I’ll die trying.”
For a heartbeat, silence. Then Elyndra laughed softly, though her eyes carried something darker now.
“Good,” she whispered. “Because that hunger… that’s the only thing that might keep you alive here.”
She leaned closer, her lips nearly brushing his ear. “But remember, Tashiro—if you feed it too much, it won’t be hunger anymore. It’ll be a curse.”
She pulled away, her smile sharp again, masking whatever truth had almost slipped through.
Before he could respond, footsteps echoed from above. Heavy, sharp, familiar.
Kaelen.
Elyndra smirked, stepping back into the shadows. “Lesson’s over. Try not to disappoint me.”
And just like that, she was gone.
The cellar door creaked open, Kaelen’s silhouette filling the frame. His eyes swept the broken wall, the blood on Tashiro’s lips, the ruined dummy of vines already fading to dust.
His jaw tightened.
“You’re going to kill yourself,” Kaelen said flatly.
Tashiro wiped the blood from his mouth, his voice hoarse but firm. “Then I’ll learn to control it before it kills me.”
Kaelen stared at him for a long, heavy moment. Then he turned, his cloak shifting. “Power like that doesn’t give control. It takes it.
Remember that.”
The door shut, leaving Tashiro alone again in the dark.
His chest burned, his body shook, and yet… a smile crept onto his lips.
Because for the first time since arriving in this world, he didn’t feel entirely powerless.
And that hunger inside him?
It was only growing.
- Writer
