Kael followed the Witch of Tallow into the clearing, the pale light of the dying sun mingling with the glow of scattered souls. She gestured to a circle etched into the dirt, lined with stones and ashes, and motioned for him to stand within.
"First, you must understand the hunger," she said. "It is not merely a desire; it is a presence, a force, a voice. To master it, you must feel it, name it, and then deny it."
Kael tensed. The memories of the dead he had consumed whispered at the edges of his mind, flickering like fragile flames. Hunger rose within him, teasing, promising clarity, strength, and relief.
"Close your eyes," the witch instructed. "Listen."
Kael obeyed. The wind whispered, the ashes shifted, and the faint glow of souls flickered around him. The voices of the dead reached for him, urging him to feed, to take, to forget.
He clenched his fists. Pain lanced through him, his body thrumming with the raw, primal call of the Sight. And yet, he stayed still. He let the hunger come and go, naming each surge as it passed through him, acknowledging the temptation without yielding.
The witch moved around him silently, her hands tracing patterns in the air, twisting strands of orange light around the pale glows. "Control comes not from suppression, but from understanding. The hunger is a teacher, not an enemy. Learn from it, and you can bend it. Fail, and it will bend you."
Hours passed. Kael's body shook, sweat mingling with ash on his skin. The hunger thrashed within him, testing, prodding, whispering promises he almost believed. Each moment he resisted, a fragment of clarity returned, a piece of memory long lost, a glimpse of the man he had once been.
By nightfall, Kael sank to the ground, exhausted but enlightened. He had not fed, yet he felt stronger not in muscle, but in resolve. The Sight pulsed faintly beneath his skin, no longer a screaming demand but a heartbeat he could follow, guide, and, perhaps one day, command.
The Witch of Tallow watched him silently, a faint smile flickering. "This is only the beginning. The hunger will grow. The dead will grow. And so must you."
Kael nodded, staring at the pale glows around him. For the first time, he understood that survival was not merely a battle of strength, but a test of will, and every choice would carve him further into either a savior or a demon.