The Edge of Control

The forest blurred around us, our horses kicking up dirt and leaves as we fled deeper into the woods. The last remnants of battle still clung to my skin—the scorch of magic, the sting of shallow wounds, the heavy weight of what I had done.

I had used darkness.

And Valtor had seen it without the help of my light magic.

My fingers tightened around the reins as my horse surged forward. The others rode just ahead, Seraph casting quick glances over his shoulder, Herold gripping the reins with an uncharacteristic lack of humor. Even Elara, ever steady, looked shaken.

We should have won that fight. We could have won that fight.

But the Queen's orders rang in my head.

Do not engage.

We had no choice but to run.

I swallowed hard, the sick feeling of guilt curling deep in my stomach. That village, Erin, was still behind us—still surrounded by those creatures. We had left them. We had left the people we are supposed to protect.

The thought made my chest tighten, and I barely noticed when my horse slowed, my grip faltering.

"Aric!"

Elara's voice barely reached me before she yanked at my reins, forcing my horse to keep pace.

"Stay with us," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "We're not safe yet."

I forced myself to nod, pushing down the weight in my gut.

She was right. We weren't safe.

Not from the creatures.

Not even from myself.

We didn't stop until we reached a clearing deep in the woods, far from the main road. The sky had begun to darken, stars barely peeking through the canopy above. The only sounds were the heavy breaths of our horses and the distant rustling of leaves.

No shadows. No threats.

For now.

Seraph was the first to break the silence, sliding off his horse with a groan. "Okay. This was officially the worst day of my life."

Herold flopped onto the grass beside him, hands behind his head. "Agreed."

Elara was quieter as she dismounted, leading her horse to a nearby stream. Her expression was unreadable.

And Valtor—I could feel his gaze on me before I even turned.

He stood a few paces away, arms crossed, watching. Studying. I knew what he wanted to ask. And I didn't want to answer.

Instead, I busied myself with my horse's saddle, pretending not to notice him. It didn't work.

"You used darkness back there."

The words were quiet, but they cut through the air like a blade. Seraph and Herold stopped talking. Elara's hands stilled at the stream.

I exhaled slowly. "I know."

Valtor didn't move. "You said you couldn't control it."

"I can't." My jaw was clenched. "It just—happened."

"That's not an answer." His voice was sharper now, his gaze intense. "What else are you hiding?"

"I'm not—"

My breath hitched.

The shadows in the clearing seemed darker somehow, shifting just at the edges of my vision.

The others didn't notice. But I did.

The darkness responded to me.

Like it was waiting.

Like it was hungry.

I shoved it back, shaking my head. "I don't know," I admitted. "I don't know why this is happening to me."

Valtor didn't look away. "Then we need to figure it out."

There was no mockery in his tone. No arrogance. Just something steady. Certain. I hated that it made me want to believe him.

The stream flowed quietly before us, its surface reflecting the dim light of dawn. The fight was over. The danger had passed. But none of us could shake the weight of what had happened.

Elara stood at the water's edge, her arms wrapped around herself, eyes locked onto our distorted reflections.

"Did we really leave them?"

Her voice was quiet, but it silenced the clearing.

She exhaled, her shoulders rising and falling as if she'd been holding this in since we fled Erin. "They were fighting for their lives, and we left them." Her fingers clenched at her sides. "I know it was the Queen's orders, but..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "I can't stop thinking about it."

Neither could I.

The others shifted uncomfortably. Seraph, usually so quick to break the tension, said nothing. Herold, who always had a joke ready, stared at the water instead. Even Valtor, ever composed, remained silent.

Because we all felt it.

The guilt. The unease.

We were heirs—future rulers of Valerya. And we had run.

"We should have stayed," I muttered.

Valtor let out a sharp breath. "We would have died."

"Maybe." I turned to face him. "But is that the kind of ruler we're going to be? People who run while others suffer?"

No one answered.

Because we didn't know.

We didn't know what kind of rulers we would become.

But I knew what kind of person I wanted to be.

And running wasn't it.

I met Valtor's gaze, my voice steady.

"Next time, I'm not leaving."

Something flickered in his expression—something unreadable.

Then he nodded.

"Next time," he said, "neither am I."

And somehow, that made the guilt just a little easier to bear.

For now.

_____

Sleep did not come easily.

Even with exhaustion weighing on my body, I lay awake in the dark, staring at the stars beyond the trees. The night was quiet; the only sounds were the distant chirping of insects and the crackling of our small fire.

Yet, something felt off.

I sat up, glancing around the clearing. Seraph and Herold were sprawled on the ground, already snoring. Elara slept lightly, her bow still within reach. Valtor sat with his back against a tree, arms crossed, but his gaze was fixed on me.

Of course, he was watching.

I should've been annoyed, but instead, I met his gaze.

"You're not sleeping," he said quietly.

I scoffed. "Neither are you."

Valtor didn't respond. He just studied me, his storm-gray eyes flickering in the firelight.

I turned away, staring into the flames. "I keep thinking about Erin."

"I know."

My fingers clenched into the dirt. "We should've done something."

Valtor exhaled through his nose. "And died?"

"Maybe."

He frowned. "That's foolish."

"Maybe."

Silence stretched between us.

Then he shifted. "You were struggling back there."

I stiffened. "With what?"

"You know what."

Of course, he meant the darkness. The way it had surged through me in battle—the way I had let it.

I swallowed. "I had it under control."

Valtor arched a brow. "Is that why your hands are shaking?"

I glanced down.

Damn it.

My fingers trembled against my knees as if my body was still feeling the aftershocks of that power.

I clenched my fists. "It doesn't matter."

"It does," Valtor said, voice low. "If you can't control it, then—"

"I can." I forced the words out, even though I wasn't sure if I believed them. "I just... need time."

His gaze lingered on me, unreadable. "Time won't help if you're afraid of it."

Something cold curled in my chest. "I'm not afraid."

"Then why are you running from it?"

I had no answer. Because he wasn't wrong. The power inside me was like a living thing—shifting, restless. Every time I used it, it pulled at me, begging to be unleashed.

And the worst part? A part of me wanted to.

The realization made my stomach twist.

Valtor watched me a moment longer, then stood. "Get some sleep, Aric. Tomorrow will be worse."

He walked off without another word, leaving me to the solitude of my thoughts. Returning was not an option yet, not after the events that had transpired. We must gather more intelligence, particularly on the origins of these disturbances.

I stared at my hands again. The way they still felt tainted with shadow.

I didn't know if I feared the darkness.

Or if I feared how much I liked it.

_____

Morning came too soon.

We had barely saddled our horses when the air turned heavy—charged with something wrong.

Elara's head snapped up first. "Do you feel that?"

I did.

It was the same feeling as before. The same unnatural stillness.

The same cold.

Then the shadows moved. Figures erupted from the tree line—distorted, writhing creatures, their bodies flickering between solid and mist. Their hollow eyes locked onto us, and an ear-splitting shriek tore through the air.

The horses reared in panic.

"Move!" Valtor shouted, already summoning a whirlwind around his blade.

Seraph's lightning crackled to life. Herold vanished in an illusion of light. Elara notched an arrow, ice forming at its tip.

I reached for my power—And the darkness surged forward on its own.

Cold flooded my veins, seeping into my very bones. My breath hitched as a foreign yet familiar sensation unfurled inside me—vast, endless, hungry.

The world around me sharpened. Every flicker of movement, every shift in the air, every ragged breath from my companions became painfully clear. The creatures lunged, their claws gleaming like blackened steel, their empty eyes locked onto me.

And before I could think—before I could stop—I raised a hand.

Darkness answered.

A wave of shadow erupted from my palm, surging outward like a living thing. It struck the creatures with a force that cracked the earth beneath them, sending them screeching into the air. Their forms writhed, limbs contorting unnaturally as the darkness coiled around them.

It didn't just strike them. It consumed them.

The shadows wrapped around their bodies, tearing through them like fire through parchment. Their screams were raw, desperate—dying. Their essence unraveled, dissolving into the very void I had unleashed.

I gasped, my chest tightening as the power clawed at me, coiling around my limbs, my heart, my mind. It wanted.

More.

It whispered in a voice that wasn't a voice at all, a presence pressing against my thoughts, urging, demanding.

I staggered, my fingers twitching, the darkness pulling at me, eager, relentless. It didn't just want to be used—it wanted control.

My heart pounded. My breath came too fast. The creatures lay motionless now, twisted remnants dissolving into the night, but the power inside me didn't settle. It swirled, restless, waiting.

And for a terrifying second, I didn't want to fight it.

I wanted to let it take me.

I wanted to see what it could really do.

I gritted my teeth, fighting it back.

Not now. Not like this.

One of the creatures broke free, darting toward Elara—

I moved before I could think.

Light ignited in my palm, searing through the darkness like a blade of pure energy. With a sharp motion, I slashed forward.

A blinding arc carved through the creature's form, burning it from the inside out. It convulsed, shrieking, its body fracturing like shattered glass as the light consumed it.

For the briefest moment, my magic balanced—light and darkness in perfect harmony.

Then I lost it.

The equilibrium snapped. Power surged through me, wild and uncontrollable. A shockwave erupted from my body, an explosion of raw energy that tore through the battlefield. The force sent everything flying—friend and foe alike.

The world blurred into a chaotic whirl of motion.

I hit the ground hard, the impact jolting through my ribs, but the pain barely registered. My ears rang. My vision flickered.

Voices. Shouting.

A hand clamped onto my arm, rough and unyielding. Valtor.

"Aric!" His voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding. "Get control!"

I tried. I tried.

But the power wouldn't let go.

Darkness coiled beneath me, writhing unnaturally. It wasn't just a shadow—it was alive.

And it wasn't just mine.

Something else lurked within it, watching. Waiting.

Then the voice came.

"We see you, child of light and dark."

Cold fear slammed into me, colder than any winter night, colder than death itself.

Valtor's grip tightened, his fingers bruising my skin. "Aric—"

Before I could respond, the creatures shrieked again.

Not in rage.

In fear.

Then, just like that, they were gone.

Vanished.

Like they had never been there at all.

Silence descended over the clearing, thick and suffocating.

I collapsed to my knees, gasping for breath. The others stirred around me, groaning as they pushed themselves upright.

Seraph clutched his chest, wincing. "Okay. What the hell was that?"

No one answered.

Because no one knew.

Valtor hadn't moved. He was still staring at me, his storm-gray eyes unreadable.

But I could feel it.

Something had changed.

Something dangerous.

And for the first time... I wasn't sure I wanted to know what would happen next.