SAVANNAH
The training room swallowed all sound, even my footsteps. Weapons lined the walls—swords gleaming with unnatural light, spears tipped with materials I couldn't identify, and curved blades that twisted when I wasn't looking directly at them. The air tasted metallic, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.
"This is where you'll learn to control what's awakening inside you," Iowyn said, moving to the center of a circular pattern etched into the stone floor. The markings pulsed as his feet crossed them, symbols lighting up in sequence.
"Great. When do I get a magic sword?" I tried for sarcasm, but my voice broke. My fingertips tingled with pins and needles—the shadows stirring beneath my skin.
Iowyn's silver eyes flashed. "Weapons come later. First, you must master yourself."
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