Silence was not the absence of sound.
That was the first thing Kael taught me.
He took me beyond the monolith circle at dawn, through a path I had not noticed before. It curved behind the Shadow Court like a scar half-hidden by stone and thorn. The light there was wrong. Not dim. Not dark. Simply… muted. As if the world had lowered its voice out of instinct.
"Listen," Kael said.
I frowned. "To what?"
He did not answer immediately. He walked ahead of me, unhurried, boots soundless against the blackened earth. I followed, senses stretched tight, shadows drawn close to my spine like bristling fur.
At first I heard nothing but wind brushing dead leaves.
Then I noticed what was missing.
Birds. Insects. Even the low creak of branches shifting.
The quiet here was deliberate.
Kael stopped at the edge of a shallow ravine. Stone steps descended into it, carved long ago and worn smooth by time. No railings. No markings. Just a descent into a hollow where the light thinned until even my eyes strained.
"This place," he said, "was built to erase sound."
I swallowed. "Why?"
"Because sound invites attention. And attention invites death."
I glanced down the steps. "You brought me here to scare me?"
Kael looked back over his shoulder, expression flat. "If I wanted to scare you, Aria, I would let you keep doing what you are doing now."
That shut me up.
We descended.
The further down we went, the more my magic reacted. My shadows did not rise. They did not coil or sharpen. They flattened, stretching thin against the stone, clinging like ink spilled across parchment.
It was unsettling.
Kael noticed. Of course he did.
"Your shadows are loud," he said.
I bristled. "They don't make noise."
"They announce intention," he replied. "They reach before you decide. They react before you understand. That is why Marcus could sense you across a battlefield. That is why Lucian watches you even when you think he's not there."
My jaw tightened. "And you?"
"I hear you when you breathe."
That was not a boast. It was a statement.
We reached the bottom of the ravine. The space opened into a wide basin of stone, smooth and bare, like the inside of a bell that refused to ring.
Kael turned to face me fully.
"Today," he said, "you will learn silence."
"I already know how to be quiet."
His eyes sharpened. "No. You know how to stop speaking."
I crossed my arms. "What's the difference?"
Kael stepped closer. The air shifted immediately. Pressure without weight. Presence without touch.
"Silence," he said, "is not restraint. It is erasure."
My pulse stumbled.
"You do not hide in shadow," he continued. "You announce yourself with it. Every step you take bends the dark around you like a banner."
"That's how it works," I snapped. "Shadow responds to—"
"To fear," he cut in.
The word landed hard.
"You shape it with need," Kael said, voice calm and merciless. "With hunger. With desperation. Silence requires none of those."
He gestured to the basin. "Stand there."
I hesitated.
Kael's gaze did not soften. "Now."
I moved.
The moment I stepped into the center of the basin, the air changed again. Not like the monolith circle. This was narrower. Focused. The quiet pressed against my ears until my own heartbeat sounded obscene.
"Close your eyes," Kael instructed.
"I don't trust you."
"That is irrelevant."
I closed them.
"Good," he said. "Now, summon your shadows."
I inhaled and reached.
Nothing happened.
I frowned, concentration sharpening. I pulled harder, instinctively reaching for the familiar coil in my chest.
Still nothing.
Frustration flared. "You're suppressing them."
"I am not touching them," Kael replied. "You are."
I opened my eyes. "That makes no sense."
"You are afraid of making noise," he said. "So you are strangling your own power."
Heat rose in my face. "I am not afraid."
Kael's temper flared then. Not loudly. Not violently. The air cracked, a sharp pressure snapping through the basin like lightning trapped in glass.
The stone beneath my feet vibrated.
"You mistake defiance for courage," he said, voice suddenly edged with iron. "And denial for strength."
My shadows twitched involuntarily, flickering at the edges of the basin like they were trying to escape me.
Kael exhaled slowly. The pressure eased.
"Again," he said. "But this time, do not pull."
I clenched my fists. "Then what am I supposed to do?"
"Let go."
The words made my stomach drop.
I shook my head. "If I let go, it consumes me."
"Only because you have never taught it to listen."
"That's rich, coming from you."
His eyes flashed. For a heartbeat, I thought he might strike me. Not physically. Something worse.
Instead, he stepped behind me.
His hand came to rest lightly against my spine.
I stiffened.
"Do not confuse proximity with possession," Kael said quietly. "I will correct you if you falter. I will not hold you up."
His touch was precise. Not lingering. Not warm. Just enough to anchor.
"Breathe," he said.
I did.
Slowly.
"Now," Kael continued, "imagine the shadow not as something you wield, but as something that wishes to sleep."
Sleep.
The idea felt wrong. My magic had never slept. It clawed. It watched. It waited.
But I tried.
I softened my grip. Let the tension in my shoulders drop. Let the constant readiness ease.
For a moment, panic surged. The hollow inside me yawned wider.
Then something shifted.
The shadows did not rise.
They sank.
Not away from me. Into me.
The basin dimmed. The edges of the world blurred, not because I vanished, but because nothing noticed me anymore.
Kael's breath hitched.
Just once.
"Again," he said, but this time his voice was lower. Controlled. Careful.
I took a step.
No sound.
Another.
The air did not ripple. The shadows did not reach.
I was not hidden.
I was absent.
A thrill ran through me. Sharp. Dangerous.
I took another step, faster this time.
The silence held.
Then I pushed.
Just a little.
The shadows surged instinctively, eager, hungry.
The basin shuddered.
Kael's hand snapped to my shoulder, grip iron-hard.
"Enough."
The word cracked like a whip.
The silence shattered. Sound rushed back in, overwhelming. My shadows recoiled violently, lashing the stone.
I gasped, stumbling forward.
Kael caught me before I fell, his hold firm, unyielding.
His eyes burned.
"You do not rush silence," he said. "You inhabit it."
I shook, breath ragged. "You said let go."
"I said let go," he agreed. "Not leap."
For a long moment, he did not release me.
Then his grip loosened.
"Rest," he said, turning away. "Your instinct is power. Your discipline is not."
I watched him walk back toward the steps, my heart still hammering.
"Kael," I called.
He paused.
"When I disappear like that," I asked quietly, "what do I become?"
He did not turn around.
"Something the world forgets to fear," he said.
And for the first time, I did not know whether that frightened me.