The morning air is sharp, biting against Kael's skin as he steps into the clearing behind the ruined chapel. Mist curls among the stones, weaving through ancient symbols carved deep into the ground—symbols that seem to glow faintly beneath the damp earth.
Lyra waits, her dark cloak pulled tight, eyes gleaming with a fierce determination. In her hands, she holds a wooden staff, polished smooth from years of use.
"Today, you learn to listen—not just with your ears, but with your soul," she says.
Kael clenches his fists, heart thrumming with a mix of fear and anticipation.
"Close your eyes," Lyra commands.
He obeys, feeling the cold fog wrap around him like a living thing. The forest grows silent, every sound stripped away until only the faintest heartbeat remains—the thrum of the earth beneath his feet.
"Now, reach inside yourself," Lyra's voice is soft but unyielding. "Find the mark. The power that lies beneath your skin."
Kael's breath slows. He reaches out—not with his hands, but with something deeper, intangible.
A faint blue light ignites in his chest, flickering like a fragile flame.
Suddenly, images flash—fragments of memories not his own. A grand hall filled with chanting shadows. A locked door sealed with chains of light. A child crying out in the dark.
His body stiffens, overwhelmed.
"Control it!" Lyra urges. "Do not let it consume you."
He grits his teeth, forcing the light to steady, to obey. The glow expands from his chest to his palm, where the Mark of the Hidden burns bright.
"Good," Lyra says, stepping back. "Now, focus it."
Before him, a fallen branch lies on the ground. Kael extends his hand, the blue light pulsing stronger. The branch quivers, then levitates, trembling in the fog.
His eyes snap open, wide with shock and triumph.
"Magic," he whispers.
Lyra smiles, but it's tinged with warning. "Not magic. Power. But it is dangerous—uncontrolled, it will destroy you."
Kael nods, feeling the weight of responsibility settle heavily on his shoulders.
The training lasts hours—hours of pushing his limits, wrestling with unseen forces that claw at his mind. Every success is met with exhaustion; every failure, with a bitter sting.
As dusk falls, they return to the village, shadows lengthening across the cobblestone streets.
Kael's body aches, but his mind burns with newfound purpose.
He glances back at the dark silhouette of the door in his home—the gateway to a world he's only just begun to understand.
"The darkness will come," Lyra says quietly, "but you will be ready."
Kael swallows hard, knowing the real battle is just beginning.