600. East tower training room.
The chamber was smaller than the main hall — intimate, almost claustrophobic.
Black stone walls absorbed the light from the four floating orbs drifting near the ceiling. The floor was etched with a faint spiral of silver runes that pulsed once when Miko stepped inside, then went dark again.
No windows. No audience. Just her, the runes, and Kael.
He was already there, leaning against the far wall, arms crossed.
The moment she entered he straightened. No greeting. No smile.
Only a single sentence.
"Strip the robe. You're wearing too many layers."
Miko blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Fabric catches shadow. Shadow catches you. Off."
She stared at him for a beat, then snorted.
"Romantic."
But she did it — shrugging off the outer robe until she stood in the fitted black training uniform the academy had issued her yesterday: sleeveless top, flexible pants, boots. The crimson seal sat fully exposed on her collarbone, glowing softly like a second heartbeat.
Kael's eyes flicked to it — then away.
"Center of the room. Palms up. Summon."
Miko walked to the middle of the spiral. Took a breath. Raised her hands.
Nothing happened.
She frowned. Tried again.
Still nothing.
The seal pulsed, but the power didn't rise. It just… sat there. Heavy. Waiting.
Kael stepped forward. "You're forcing it again."
"I'm not—"
"You are. You're clenching. You're afraid of it."
He stopped a meter away from her. "Let it come. Don't pull. Invite."
Miko grit her teeth. "Easy for you to say. Your shadows don't try to eat your soul."
"They used to."
His voice was quiet. Almost casual.
"When I was thirteen. First time I pushed past my limit. I blacked out for three days. Woke up with half the training yard gone and my left hand numb for a month. I learned to breathe with it instead of against it."
Miko looked at him — really looked.
For the first time she noticed the faint, pale scar that ran along the inside of his left wrist, almost invisible unless the light hit it just right.
She swallowed. "What happened after?"
"I stopped being afraid of dying."
He met her eyes. "Fear makes it stronger. Control comes from accepting you might lose."
Miko exhaled slowly. Closed her eyes.
This time she didn't reach.
She just… opened.
The seal flared.
Shadows poured out — slower than yesterday, thicker, almost liquid. They coiled around her forearms like dark silk, then drifted toward the floor in lazy spirals. Crimson veins flickered inside them, faint but alive.
Kael watched. Didn't move.
"Good," he said. "Now shape it. One tendril. Clean line. No spikes."
Miko focused.
One of the shadows obeyed — stretching into a thin, razor-sharp whip that hovered in front of her.
It trembled, then steadied.
She felt the pull — that cold hunger again — but it was quieter this time. Like a dog on a leash instead of a wolf off it.
"Hold it," Kael said.
She held.
Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.
Sweat beaded on her temple.
The tendril wavered.
Then snapped.
A black line lashed sideways — fast, uncontrolled — straight toward Kael.
He didn't flinch.
A wall of his own shadow rose in an instant and swallowed hers whole.
The impact was silent. No sound. No explosion. Just… gone.
Miko stumbled, gasping. The seal burned hot against her skin.
Kael lowered his hand. "You hesitated at the end."
"I didn't—"
"You did. You got scared it would hit me. So it did."
He stepped closer. Close enough that she could see the violet in his eyes wasn't solid — it had thin silver flecks, like cracks in ice.
"Lesson one: hesitation kills faster than failure. If you're going to swing, swing. If you're going to lose control, lose it completely. Half-measures are what get people dead."
Miko glared up at him. "And what if I don't want to hurt anyone?"
"Then you're already dead."
He didn't soften the words. "This isn't a game. The rifts aren't going to hesitate. The things coming through them won't either. And if that seal takes you over because you were too kind to fight dirty… everyone around you pays for it."
Miko looked down at her hands.
They were shaking.
She hated that he was right.
"Again," Kael said.
They went for another hour.
By the end she could hold two tendrils at once for almost a minute.
She could make them curve instead of just stab.
She could pull them back without the seal screaming in her head.
But every time she pushed past forty seconds, that cold emptiness crept in deeper.
Like something was carving out space inside her chest, room for itself.
When they finally stopped, she was soaked in sweat and her legs felt like water.
Kael tossed her a towel from the side bench. "Not terrible."
"High praise," she muttered, catching it.
He watched her wipe her face for a moment.
Then, quieter:
"Tomorrow. Same time. Bring water. You're going to need it."
Miko nodded.
He turned to leave — then stopped.
"One more thing."
She looked up.
"If you ever feel the hunger get too loud… tell me."
His voice was low. Almost reluctant.
"I've walked that line before. I know what it sounds like right before it stops asking and starts taking."
Miko didn't know what to say to that.
So she just nodded again.
Kael left without another word.
The door closed.
Alone in the training room, Miko sank down to sit on the cold floor.
The seal pulsed once — slow, satisfied.
She pressed her palm over it.
For the first time she whispered to it.
"Not today."
It pulsed again.
Almost like it was laughing.
To be continued…