The air smelled different as soon as I stepped onto the grounds. It was crisp, tinged with the scent of earth and herbs, and carried the faint hum of magic—like the world itself was breathing around me. My parents' words echoed in my mind: Your aunt will teach you to fight… to draw power from the sun, moon, earth, and plants…
I had expected someone formidable, strict, maybe even frightening. But the first person I saw waiting for me was a woman with a tall, poised frame, eyes the color of molten amber, and hair that shone like spun silver in the morning light. She didn't smile at first. She studied me, like she was measuring my soul against some unseen scale.
"You must be Hazel," she said finally, her voice firm yet calm. "I am Lilith, your aunt. We don't have time for introductions beyond that. If you are to survive the path ahead, you will need discipline, focus, and courage. Do you understand?"
I swallowed hard. My throat felt dry, and for a moment I hesitated. But something in her gaze—the undeniable power, the aura of authority—made me nod. "Yes," I said quietly.
"Good. Then we begin."
The first day was nothing like school. There were no classrooms, no desks, no textbooks. Only the open field behind her estate, dense with towering trees and plants that seemed alive. Lilith handed me a sword—lightweight, yet unyielding—and instructed me to move as if my body were water flowing around obstacles I could not see.
"Balance," she said sharply as I stumbled over a root. "The body is a conduit for your power. If you fall in mind or body, your magic will falter. Remember that."
I tried again, and again, each movement forcing me to feel the energy of the ground beneath me, the sun warming my skin, the breeze whispering secrets through the trees. It was exhausting, frustrating, and… exhilarating.
By midday, she paused, gesturing to a circle of plants nearby. "Now, we work with the earth. Feel it. Draw from it. The roots, the soil, the life all around you—they will lend you strength if you know how to ask."
I knelt, closing my eyes, and tentatively placed my palms on the damp soil. At first, nothing happened. Then, a faint vibration thrummed under my hands, like the heartbeat of the world itself. Leaves rustled, the air shimmered slightly, and for a moment, I felt… connected.
Lilith watched silently, her expression unreadable. "You are stronger than I expected," she said after a long pause. "But strength alone will not be enough. Control, focus, and understanding are your weapons as much as this sword."
I glanced at her, the weight of what she was teaching me settling into my bones. One week. That was all I had. One week to learn the basics before returning home to continue my training. And yet, already, I felt the stirrings of something deep inside me—a power I hadn't known I could reach.
A voice in my mind whispered faintly, almost like a warning, almost like an invitation: This is only the beginning, Hazel.
I swallowed, gripping the sword tighter, and nodded to myself. I was ready to begin.
By the time the sun dipped toward the horizon, sweat clung to my skin, and my arms ached as if they were made of lead. The sword felt heavier with every swing, each failed attempt at form mocking me. Lilith's sharp eyes followed my movements, unyielding, her posture rigid like a shadow carved in stone.
"You grip it too tightly," she snapped as I stumbled for the fourth time. "The blade isn't your enemy, Hazel. You don't force it—you guide it. Again."
I clenched my jaw, adjusted my stance, and tried once more. The metal gleamed in the fading light, but my arms wobbled, and my footing slipped. The sword clattered to the ground.
Frustration surged through me. "I can't!" I hissed, stepping back. "It feels wrong, like the sword doesn't belong in my hands."
Lilith's gaze softened slightly, though her tone remained firm. "Not every witch is meant to be a swordswoman. But you must learn enough to defend yourself. Power attracts enemies, Hazel. And yours will attract more than most."
Her words pressed heavy on me, a reminder that this wasn't just training—it was survival. I picked up the sword again, though my body screamed in protest. But no matter how many times I tried, nothing felt right. By the end of the day, Lilith finally raised a hand, calling a halt.
"Enough. Rest now. Tomorrow, we begin where your strength lies—not with steel, but with the elements."
The next morning, the air was sharp and bright, sunlight spilling golden over the clearing. Lilith stood with her arms lifted, her face tilted toward the sky. "The sun is not just light, Hazel. It is energy, life, and fire. To draw from it, you must open yourself to its warmth and trust it will not consume you."
I tried to mimic her, closing my eyes and stretching my arms upward. At first, I felt only the heat on my skin. But then, like a spark, a pulse traveled into my chest. It burned—not painfully, but powerfully, as if my heartbeat had caught fire.
Lilith's voice carried through the hum of energy. "Do not resist it. Guide it, like breath. Let it flow through you, not against you."
I exhaled slowly, focusing on the rhythm of the light. My veins felt alight, tingling, and for a fleeting moment, I saw golden threads in the air, weaving around me, drawn to me.
The connection snapped when I gasped, losing focus. The warmth vanished, leaving me breathless.
Lilith lowered her arms. "Better than most beginners," she admitted, her lips curving into the faintest smile. "But the sun will test you. Too much, and you will burn. Too little, and you will falter. Balance, Hazel. Always balance."
By midday, she led me to a shallow cut she'd drawn across her own palm, crimson trickling slowly. My eyes widened. "What are you—"
"Teaching you to heal," she interrupted calmly, extending her hand toward me. "This, too, you must learn. Your kind were once healers as much as warriors. Now, focus. The energy of life is within all things. Will it to mend what is broken."
My heart pounded as I pressed trembling fingers near her wound. I remembered the warmth of the sun earlier, the hum of the earth beneath my hands. Slowly, I tried to channel that same energy.
At first, nothing happened. Then, faint light glowed under my fingertips, soft and white, like moonlight trapped in glass. Lilith inhaled sharply as the blood slowed, the skin knitting together little by little.
I pulled back in shock. "Did… did I just—"
"You did," Lilith said, examining her palm. The cut had nearly closed, leaving only a faint line. "Not perfectly, but well enough for a first attempt. Healing takes more than power, Hazel—it takes intention. You must want the wound to close, not just will it."
Exhaustion crashed over me, my knees almost buckling. Lilith steadied me with one strong hand. "Good progress," she said quietly. "You learn faster than I thought. But this is only the beginning. Tomorrow, we test your limits."
Her words lingered long after she dismissed me. My body felt drained, but beneath the fatigue was something stronger—hope. For the first time, I believed I might be able to do this.
Yet, as I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts drifted back to Warren. His words, his secrets, the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn't watching. I clenched my fists. Soon, I would have to face him again. And when I did, I would not be the same Hazel he once knew.