Aisla's POV
I woke up to the sound of Mora's staff cracking against stone.
The air in the grove was damp and heavy with mist, and my body was soaked with sweat before the sun even appeared. My muscles ached from yesterday's drills, but Mora did not care. She doesn't care anymore. Maybe because she knows I won't break.
"Again," she barked.
My hands trembled with the buzz of leftover sparks from the night before. Silver light coiled under my skin, restless, alive. Too much. Always too much.
"I can't," I whispered.
She slammed her staff into the ground and sent a jolt through the earth. "You can and you will. Again."
So I closed my eyes and reached. The energy rose, wild and sharp, filling my chest until it felt like my ribs might split. I tried to hold it, mold it, and force it into shape…
It exploded.
The blast threw me backward, slamming me into the mossy ground. Pain jolted down my spine, stars scattering behind my eyes.
