Training

Our personal training ground beneath Frostfang Citadel were colder and quieter than I remembered. The frost-carved walls glimmered faintly in the dim light, ancient runes pulsing with a steady rhythm, almost like a heartbeat. The air carried the weight of old magic, the kind that clung to your skin and whispered things you didn't quite want to hear.

And standing in the center of it all, as if he owned the place, was Lothar.

I studied him for a moment. He was the herald in the Frostbond Ceremony, with silver hair that caught the glow of the runes and sharp features that seemed carved from the same froststone as the arena. His cloak was slung over one arm, and his piercing silver eyes were fixed on the arena floor, as if its cracks held the key to the universe. He gave off the air of someone completely at ease with the world, with himself, and, apparently, with making people wait.

"You're late," he said without looking up.

I raised an eyebrow, already amused. "I'm not late."

"Not technically," he said, finally glancing my way. His voice lilted with that particular brand of smugness that only people who know they're good at something can get away with. "But let's not waste time pretending we both care about punctuality. You're here now, so I guess the question is: Are you ready?"

"For what, exactly?" I asked, crossing my arms.

He chuckled softly, the sound echoing faintly off the froststone walls. "For training, for me and for the whole world to come crashing down on you if you don't get this right." Straightening, he tossed his cloak onto a nearby bench and turned to face me fully, his smirk widening. "I'm Lothar, Steward of your father, leader of this training, and, lucky for you, the one who's going to keep you alive."

I tilted my head, pretending to consider. "Is this the part where I'm supposed to be impressed?"

"Only if you're smart." He grinned. "But don't worry, I'm sure you'll catch on eventually."

I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. He was cocky, sure, but at least he wore it well. "Alright, Lothar, since you're clearly in charge here, how exactly do we start?"

"No speeches?" he asked, feigning mock surprise. "No heartfelt declarations about how you're destined to save the world or uphold your family's legacy?"

"That sounds more like your job than mine," I shot back, a smirk tugging at my lips.

He laughed, short and sharp, like a blade slicing clean through. "I think I'm going to like you, Ali. Now," he gestured to the center of the arena, "show me what you've got. We can start with your shadow first. No rules, no instructions. Impress me."

I stepped forward into the center of the froststone floor, feeling the cold pulse of magic under my boots. "You really love being vague, don't you?"

"It's a talent," Lothar acknowledged with a casual shrug. "Now come on, I've heard the whispers. The son of Frostfang's great lord, awakened the shadow and decay magic. Everyone says you've got some flair. So, prove it."

"Flair?" I repeated, letting the amusement show in my voice. "Isn't that a little dramatic?"

"Not as dramatic as the look on your father's face if you can't even get through a simple warm-up," he quipped, his silver eyes gleaming with mischief.

I chuckled, already knowing this was going to be more fun than I'd expected. "Alright, fine. Let's see what you think of this."

I let the shadows within me stir, dark tendrils pooling around my hands like smoke before stretching outward in smooth, twisting arcs. They moved like a part of me, graceful and fluid.

Lothar watched in silence, his expression unreadable. When the tendrils danced higher into the air, he finally tilted his head slightly. "Not bad," he said.

"Not bad?" I parroted, raising an eyebrow.

"Well," he waved a hand vaguely at the shadows, "they're pretty. Very artistic. Are you planning on scaring people to death with interpretive shadow dances next?"

I snorted, shaking my head. "And here I thought you'd be harder to impress."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm impressed," he said, smirking. "It's not every day you see this much effort put into looking good while doing absolutely nothing useful."

There was no irritation in me, only amusement now as I let the tendrils snap forward in a sudden, sharp arc toward him.

But Lothar moved like wind, side-stepping effortlessly out of their reach. The shadows struck the froststone floor with a loud crack before dissolving back into smoke.

"And here I thought you'd be harder to dodge," I said, laughing softly.

He glanced at me over his shoulder, his grin widening. "Alright, I'll give you that one."

Lothar reached into his pocket, pulling out a silver coin. He held it up between his thumb and forefinger, the light catching the runes engraved on its surface. "Let's try something a little more fun. Catch this."

"Catch it?" I echoed, watching as he flipped the coin lazily in his fingers.

"With your shadows," he clarified. "Before it hits the ground."

I raised an eyebrow. "This is the dramatic warm-up speech, isn't it?"

"Think of it however you need to," he replied, tossing the coin into the air.

The shadows reacted instantly, snapping upward in a smooth, sharp tendril. I nearly smiled as the magic surged effortlessly through me, until Lothar flicked his fingers, and the coin veered wildly off course.

It hit the ground with a soft clink.

I blinked, glancing at him. "Did you just cheat?"

"Cheat?" He gasped, mock offended. "How dare you accuse a steward of such things. I… improvised."

"You mean cheated," I said, grinning now.

He bent to scoop the coin off the floor. "Come on, Ali. Try again. Unless you're ready to admit the kitchen staff would've caught it by now."

By the fourth attempt, I was starting to notice a pattern. Lothar wasn't just throwing the coin, he was actively sabotaging my attempts to catch it. Flicking it off walls, spinning it at odd angles, and adding just enough magic to make its movement unpredictable.

"Careful," he called as my shadows missed again. "You're going to leave more dents in this floor than your pride can handle."

"Careful," I shot back, "or I'll start aiming at you instead of the coin."

"Ooh, bold," he said, laughing as he tossed the coin again. "I like the attitude. Now, if we could just pair that with actual results..."

This time, I focused. The shadows coiled tightly, waiting for the coin to arch in its unpredictable flight. When it flicked left, I didn't think, just let the shadows snap. They caught the coin mid-air, curling carefully around it before lowering it into my hand.

Lothar clapped slowly, his grin stretching wider. "Well, well, would you look at that? The kid can actually learn. You're still insufferable, though."

"Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment," I said, flipping the coin in my hand.

He nodded, pulling his cloak from the bench and slinging it over his shoulder. "Good. You're learning. Let's see if you can keep it up. And if not…" His eyes gleamed with quiet amusement. "At least we'll both have plenty of laughs before you end up on the floor."

He turned toward the exit without another word, and for a brief moment, silence settled over the training grounds. The froststone hummed faintly beneath my feet, steady and unyielding, as if it were alive with magic.

I exhaled slowly, letting the shadows around me retreat. They curled faintly at the edges of my vision, obedient but restless, like smoke waiting for a gust of wind. They had done what I asked today, but their motion left me uneasy, as though they were… testing me.

Lothar's words lingered in my mind longer than I'd expected. "Good. You're learning." A compliment, sure, but paired with that glint in his eye, it felt heavier than that.

The shadows made it easy to feel confident, to trust that they would always obey. But for the first time, I wondered if I'd earned that trust or if I was taking their obedience for granted.

I caught the coin, and that was enough for today. Still, as I stepped off the froststone floor, I couldn't shake the feeling that my real training hadn't even started yet.