POV: Soraya
The afternoon sun turns the training yard into a clay oven, baking sand and sandstone until the air shimmers. Wolves move across the packed earth in pairs, wooden blades clacking, grunts and barks of instruction echoing off the high walls. Kaide stands in the center like the eye of a storm, correcting footwork, swatting at lazy guards, making everyone sweat harder.
Vienne shoves a practice blade into my hands. “Your turn, storm girl.”
I eye the stick doubtfully. “I still think this is cruel and unusual punishment.”
“It’s survival,” she says. “Raevan has enemies. You have enemies. Some of them know how to hold a knife. I’d like you to be able to hold a stick without stabbing your own foot.”
“I make no promises,” I mutter.
She snorts and nudges me toward the open center. The moment I step into the sunlight, conversations dip. A few wolves stop mid-movement. I feel eyes like pricks of heat along my skin.
“Ignore them,” Vienne murmurs. “They’ll talk anyway. Might as well give them something impressive to whisper about.”
Kaide turns as we approach. His gaze skims over me, quick but assessing. “You warmed up?”
“Emotionally? No,” I say. “Physically? Also no.”
He huffs and takes a few steps back, lifting his own blade. “We start with basics. Block, parry, step away. Don’t think about your magic. Think about my stick hitting your face. That should sharpen things.”
Despite myself, a laugh escapes. Some of the stiffness in my spine loosens.
We move through the pattern slowly at first. Left block. Right block. Step back. Turn. My body remembers more than I expect; late-night practice with Vienne comes back in flashes. I’m clumsy, but I don’t drop the blade. When I manage a clean parry, Kaide’s brows lift.
“There you go,” he says. “Again.”
We repeat. Sand scuffs under our boots. Sweat trickles down my back. Around us, warriors pretend not to watch, their attention snagged like cloth on a thorn. I feel their stares, their muttered words: Zehrael, cursed girl, the one who almost pushed the future Luna.
Heat builds in my chest, thick and tight.
Kaide feints toward my ribs; I’m late, and the wood thuds into my side. I suck in a breath.
“Sorry,” he says quickly.
“Don’t be,” I grit out. “Again.”
We go faster. My breath grows harsh. The knot inside my chest pulls tighter, tighter, like something is wrapped around my ribs and twisting. My fingers tingle around the hilt.
“Again,” I insist.
Kaide studies my face. “Soraya—”
“Don’t go easy on me,” I snap. “No one else will.”
His jaw flexes. “Fine. Again. Harder.”
He lunges. I match him, sand spraying from under my boots, blade jerking under the force of each strike. The world narrows to wood, heat, the sound of our breath. The knot in my chest burns now, a hot, sharp ball of pressure I can’t swallow down. My vision edges with faint blue.
Not now. Not here.
Kaide’s blade swings toward my shoulder. I block too hard, panic spiking, and our sticks collide with a crack.
Light explodes from my hands.
It’s not a soft glow. It’s a burst, a flash of blue-white fire that leaps from my skin, racing along Kaide’s blade and past him into the line of practice dummies. Wood erupts. Sand jumps. Half the yard goes down screaming as shards of splintered dummy rain through the air.
I stagger back, staring at my own hands. They’re wreathed in pale light, faint lines of power crawling over my skin like lightning veins.
“What did she do?” someone yells.
“She’s going to blow us up—”
“Get away from her!”
Panic slams into me, stoking the light hotter. The air hums, thick and charged. A stone near my foot cracks with a sharp pop.
Kaide throws his blade aside and steps between me and the others, arms wide. “Everyone back,” he shouts. “Now!”
The order in his voice cuts through the chaos. Wolves retreat to the edges, eyes wide, bodies tense to bolt. Vienne appears at my side, grabbing my elbow.
“Breathe,” she says. “You’re buzzing.”
“I can’t,” I choke. “It won’t stop.”
The light flickers brighter in response to my fear. My heart slams against bone.
Kaide turns, facing me fully now. Up close, I see wariness in his eyes—and something like determination layered over it. “Soraya. Look at me.”
I drag my gaze up to his.
“You’re not going to hurt anyone,” he says calmly. “Not unless you choose to. Do you want to hurt anyone here?”
“No,” I whisper, horrified.
“Good,” he says. “That means the power answers you. Not the other way around. So we teach it to listen.”
He steps closer, slow, like approaching a skittish animal. The air between us crackles, but he doesn’t flinch.
“In,” he orders. “Four counts.”
I inhale, shaky.
“Hold. Now out. Four.”
We repeat. In, hold, out. His voice anchors me, steady as bedrock. Vienne mutters something about elders and blown-up dummies, and the corner of my mouth twitches. The light flickers, then dims a fraction.
“There,” Kaide says quietly. “It moves with your breath. Again.”
I obey. The knot in my chest loosens by degrees. The hum in the air softens. Heat drains from my fingers. When I glance down, the glow has faded to a faint shimmer before vanishing entirely.
My knees buckle. Kaide catches my shoulders, solid and real.
“I almost—” My throat closes. “I could have killed someone.”
“You didn’t,” he says. “That matters.”
“Not to them,” I whisper, hearing the murmurs at the edge of the yard.
Kaide’s gaze flicks past me, hardening. “Anyone who’s got something clever to say can come take my place next time she blows up a target instead of a person,” he calls. “No volunteers? Thought so.”
Silence. Then a few nervous laughs. The worst of the fear eases, replaced by wary curiosity.
Vienne squeezes my forearm. “Congratulations,” she mutters. “You’ve just proven you’re either the most dangerous or most useful thing in this fortress.”
I swallow. “Which one do they see?”
“Depends who’s looking,” she says. “But I know what I see.”
“What?”
“Potential,” Kaide answers. “Untamed and suicidal as hell, but still potential.”
He releases my shoulders slowly, making sure I can stand. “You need training, Soraya. Real training. With this.” He taps my sternum. “If we ignore it, you’re a walking accident. If we learn it, you’re an edge we desperately need.”
“Elders will want to control it,” I say.
“They control what they know,” he replies. “So we don’t tell them everything. Not yet.”
I glance at the shattered dummies, charred wood still smoking in the sand. Wolves linger at the edges, stealing glances at me like I might light up again any second.
“They’re afraid of me,” I murmur.
“Good,” Vienne says. “Fear keeps idiots from getting too close.”
Kaide smiles, quick and sharp. “Until you can call that light without shaking, you don’t walk this fortress alone. One of us is with you. Every step. Agreed?”
It sounds like another leash. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like one. I nod.
For the first time, the word that echoes in my head when I look at my hands isn’t monster. It’s weapon—and maybe, someday, shield.