Episode 8:Title:Shadows in the light
1104 Words
Episode 8** of **"Ashes of the Blackan"**:
# Episode 8: **Shadows in the Light**
The manor buzzed with rumors.
After the scene in the training yard, the House of Maevryn couldn’t pretend Mira Lorne was just another servant anymore.
Whispers followed her down every corridor — *witch*, *curse-bringer*, *monster*.
Even among the other young trainees, fear bloomed like rot.
All except for Cassian, Silas, and Saphira — and, strangely, Kalen Dravik.
Mira sat curled on the cold stone floor of an abandoned tower, knees hugged to her chest, the world pressing too heavy on her small shoulders.
She felt like a spark caught in a dry forest — dangerous, unwanted, feared.
She hated it.
Hated herself.
*I should just run. Disappear. Before I hurt anyone.*
A soft scrape of boots broke her spiral of thought.
Mira jerked her head up, ready to fight or flee — but it was Kalen.
Silent. Still as shadow. A walking fortress of cold steel and darker purpose.
"You shouldn’t be alone," he said simply.
Mira blinked. "Why do you care?"
Kalen didn’t answer. Instead, he dropped something wrapped in cloth onto the floor in front of her.
She unwrapped it cautiously.
A dagger.
Beautiful, black-forged, perfectly balanced for her smaller hand.
"Magic without discipline," Kalen said, voice low, "is like a blade without a sheath. Sooner or later, it cuts the one who carries it."
He stepped back, arms crossed.
"You want to survive? Learn to wield both."
Mira stared at the dagger. At Kalen.
And, for the first time, saw not just the monster the nobles whispered about — but a man who understood what it meant to be feared.
A man who had survived it.
And maybe... could teach her to survive too.
Training began in secret.
Late at night, in the abandoned tower, when the rest of the manor slept, Kalen taught Mira.
Not just how to fight with a blade — though he drilled her until her muscles burned — but how to *feel* her magic without letting it control her.
"Magic is a river," Kalen said, circling her like a hunting cat. "You can’t stop it. You can’t outrun it. You can only learn to swim."
The first few nights were a disaster.
When Mira grew frustrated, torches exploded. When she grew afraid, the stones trembled.
But Kalen never yelled. Never flinched.
Only corrected her. Again and again. With the brutal patience of someone who had clawed his own way out of darkness once before.
Meanwhile, Vera Moonfall tightened her web.
She couldn’t risk Mira mastering her power — not if she wanted to control the outcome of her grand design.
She needed leverage. A knife pressed against Mira’s fragile heart.
And she found it in the most unlikely place.
Silas Ventor was careful.
Brilliant, athletic, polite — he charmed without effort and shielded his friends without hesitation.
But he had a secret.
A shame.
One that Vera's spies uncovered.
Silas’s family — powerful merchants from the Outer Provinces — had made enemies. Dangerous ones. Silas himself was living under a false name to escape a blood feud that had already claimed two of his brothers.
If word of his true identity reached the Maevryn…
He wouldn’t be protected. He would be a liability. A target.
Exactly what Vera needed.
The night Silas betrayed them came on swift wings.
It wasn’t betrayal out of malice.
It was fear.
Desperation.
A deal whispered in the dead of night: *Silas’s secret kept safe, in exchange for a simple favor.*
*Tell us where the witch girl trains.*
*That’s all you have to do.*
Mira felt the first warning ripple through her magic as she and Kalen sparred — a sudden, sharp chill in the air.
Kalen noticed it too.
He dropped into a defensive stance, eyes scanning the shadows.
Too late.
The hidden guards struck — bursting from the secret passages Vera controlled, armed with nets woven with spell-suppressing runes.
Mira gasped as one of the nets tangled around her, instantly smothering her magic like a hand over her mouth.
Kalen roared — a sound more beast than man — and cut down the first wave of attackers in a blur of black steel.
But they kept coming.
Trained. Armed. Prepared.
This wasn’t a raid.
It was an *execution*.
Across the manor, Cassian jolted awake.
Saphira clutched his arm, panic in her wide violet eyes.
"Something’s wrong," she breathed.
Without waiting for permission, they raced for the tower.
Mira struggled beneath the net, rage and fear burning in her veins.
She caught sight of a shadow moving in the corner of her eye.
Silas.
Frozen. Watching.
Their gazes locked — Mira pleading, Silas stricken.
Then he turned and ran.
Kalen fought like a man possessed, carving a bloody path through the guards, but there were too many.
A dart embedded itself in his shoulder — a venom designed to sap strength, to dull reflexes.
He staggered.
Two guards slammed into him, driving him to one knee.
Another dart struck.
And another.
Mira screamed.
Her magic, smothered by the net, writhed and clawed and burned inside her.
*No.*
*Not like this.*
*Not after everything.*
Somewhere deep inside her, a door slammed open.
**And the world exploded.**
The spell-woven net burst into flames.
A shockwave of raw magic hurled the guards across the room like rag dolls.
Kalen shielded his face, gritting his teeth against the surge.
When he looked up, Mira stood at the heart of the maelstrom — eyes glowing like molten gold, hair whipping around her like a stormcloud.
She was beautiful.
Terrible.
Powerful.
Cassian and Saphira skidded into the room, just in time to see Mira raise her hand — and the walls trembled under the weight of her fury.
Kalen forced himself to his feet.
He crossed the distance to Mira slowly, carefully.
"Mira," he said, voice low and steady. "You have to stop. *Control it.*"
Tears streamed down her face.
"I don't know how," she choked.
"You do," Kalen said, reaching out and closing his hand around hers. His voice dropped to a whisper. *"You’re not alone anymore."*
The magic bucked, resisted, then — slowly — bent.
Mira collapsed into Kalen’s arms, sobbing.
The tower groaned dangerously, but did not fall.
For now.
Hidden in the shadows, Vera Moonfall watched the scene unfold through her scrying mirror.
Her lips curled into a smile.
"*Good,*" she whispered.
"*Let them believe they have won.*"
The next move would be hers.
And it would be devastating.
**[End of Episode 8]**
(Next: the group splinters under pressure, and a hidden enemy makes their first deadly move!)
- Writer
