14
1462 Words
Lilly stood on the edge of the training circle, breathing hard. Her hands were scraped from sparring, but her magic still buzzed beneath her skin like a second heartbeat. The stone floor beneath her shimmered faintly with remnants of energy. Sparks of violet and gold cracked in the air where her last attack had landed.
Rowen paced opposite her, arms folded. “Again. But hold it this time. You’re forcing the magic out instead of channeling it.”
“I am channeling it,” Lilly grumbled, wiping sweat from her brow.
“No. You’re pushing it like a battering ram instead of letting it flow.”
She rolled her shoulders and reset her stance. “Maybe my magic doesn’t like flowing.”
“Maybe,” Rowen said with a smirk, “but your enemy won’t care." Control means survival.”
Lilly closed her eyes, pulled the threads of power inward. She envisioned the shape Rowen had taught her to hold—then let it go.
This time, her light exploded outward too fast, coiling with a streak of dark energy. It spiraled, lost control, and cracked into the wall behind Rowen, blasting a chunk of it into dust.
Rowen ducked instinctively, flames rising from his hand. When the smoke cleared, he stood and raised an eyebrow. “You trying to kill me, princess?”
Her heart raced. “That wasn’t— I didn’t mean to do that.”
“You never mean to. That’s the problem.”
Lilly crossed her arms. “You think I’m dangerous.”
“I think,” he said slowly, walking toward her, “you’re powerful." And you’re scared. That’s a dangerous mix.”
She didn’t answer. Because he was right.
But it wasn’t just the magic that scared her. It was the feeling—growing stronger each day—that something inside her was watching, waiting to surface. Something ancient and vast, like the ocean before a storm.
And worse, she kept seeing shadows.
Not the kind cast by firelight, but ones that moved when everything else was still. She saw them watching her during training, trailing her footsteps through the gardens, and always, always lingering outside her door.
Rowen noticed her silence. “You’re distracted again.”
Lilly hesitated, then said, “I keep seeing things.”
His gaze sharpened. “Shadows?”
She nodded. “They don’t do anything. Just watch. But it’s like they’re… familiar. And they keep showing up in places they shouldn’t be.”
Rowen looked troubled. “That’s not just your magic acting up. I’ll set extra wards around your room.”
“And will that protect me from the truth, too?”
He looked at her carefully. “What truth?”
“The one you’re all keeping from me,” she said, her voice sharper than she meant. About what I am. Where I really came from. You know, don’t you?”
Rowen sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “It’s not as simple as—”
“It never is,” she snapped. But I’m tired of everyone treating me like a child with a sword. If I’m so dangerous, at least give me the truth.”
He looked like he wanted to say more. But instead, he only said, “Not yet.”
And that was worse than a lie.
That night, sleep didn’t come.
Lilly tossed in her sheets, her body tired but her mind wide awake. She stared at the carved beams of the ceiling, trying not to flinch at every flicker of the fireplace.
Something was wrong. She felt it in her bones.
She sat up. The room was cold. Colder than it should have been. The flames in the hearth had dimmed to dull embers, though no wind stirred the curtains. A chill crawled across her skin.
She wasn’t alone.
A figure stood in the corner—tall, cloaked in shifting black. He seemed more shadow than man, a silhouette that bled into the dark.
Lilly froze.
He stepped forward, and though he made no sound, the room itself seemed to hold its breath. His face was hidden in swirling mist, but two glowing eyes burned like dying stars.
“Do you know who you are?” he asked.
His voice had many voices—echoing, layered, wrong.
Lilly’s throat tightened. “Who are you?”
“I asked first,” he said again. “Do you know where you came from? Whose house are you really staying in?”
Her breath caught. “This is Delton’s castle.”
A low, bitter laugh rippled from the figure. “Delton? That name is a joke to those who remember the true bloodlines. He may wear a crown, but he holds no real power. Not anymore. Not over you.”
Lilly’s heart pounded. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” The figure drifted closer, the edges of his form twisting like smoke. “You’ve known since you were a child, haven’t you? That you didn’t belong in that world. That the rules never quite applied to you. You saw things others didn’t. Felt storms before they came. Your blood sings because it’s not human. And never was.”
She backed up. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to remember. Because soon, others will come who won’t be as… patient.” His voice dropped. “You are not hidden anymore, little storm. And you are not safe here.”
She forced her fear down. “Rowen is training me. I am safe.”
The figure stilled. “Is he your ally? Or is he sharpening a weapon for his own ends? Ask him. Ask him why he trains you. Ask him what he’s preparing you for.”
She opened her mouth to demand more—but the air behind her suddenly ignited with golden heat.
Rowen burst into the room, magic blazing around him. “Get away from her!”
The shadow snarled, recoiling as fire spread across the floor in a glowing arc. Lilly dropped to the floor as the shadow flinched from Rowen’s light, twisting into smoke.
But before it vanished, it whispered, “The fire prince plays protector. But even he doesn’t know the full truth.”
Then it was gone—dissolved into the air like fog at sunrise.
Rowen crossed to her, gripping her arms. “Are you okay? Did he touch you?”
She shook her head, dazed. “He was just… asking questions. He knew things about me.”
Rowen glanced at the window, murmuring a protective ward under his breath. “Shadowbound,” he muttered. “I should’ve known they’d try again.”
“Again?” Lilly asked, staring at him. “They’ve come before?”
“They’re relics of the old kingdom,” he said grimly. “Tied to ancient magic. They serve no one but the ones still locked beyond the veil. The fact that one found you means something is waking up.”
She stepped away from him. “And what if he’s right? What if you’re training me for something you’re not telling me?”
Rowen looked genuinely hurt. “I’m training you to survive. Because if you don’t, you’ll be used—or worse, taken back.”
She flinched. “Taken back where?”
He hesitated.
“Rowen.”
Finally, he said, “There was once a kingdom that vanished. A place where people like you—part magic, part dragon, part… something else—ruled. It fell. But some of them weren’t killed. Some were hidden. Scattered. You’re not the first lost heir, Lilly. But you might be the last.”
Her mouth went dry. “You think I’m one of them?”
“I know you are.”
She sank onto the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because if word spreads—if Delton’s enemies learn who you are—they won’t stop with shadows. They’ll bring armies.”
He knelt in front of her, eyes soft. “I’ve only ever tried to protect you.”
She looked at him for a long moment. Her hands trembled, but her voice was calm. “Then don’t keep anything else from me. I don’t care how dangerous it is. I need to know.”
Rowen hesitated. Then he nodded. “You have my word.”
That night, he didn’t leave her door.
Even as the castle slept and the fire dimmed, Rowen sat outside her room, sword resting across his knees. He didn’t sleep. Couldn’t.
Because far beyond the castle walls, in the forgotten places of the world, something old had stirred.
And it was coming.
Not for war.
Not yet.
But for her.
- Writer
