Page 9

Darian

I’ve forgotten the color of her eyes.

The thought echoes through my cell in the academy’s dungeons, bouncing off ancient stone walls that pulse with containment wards. They were violet—or were they? The memory shifts and blurs like the shadows that dance at the edges of my vision, taunting me with what I’m trying to forget.

Some nights I wake gasping, her name on my lips, the exact shade burning in my mind with perfect clarity. But by morning it fades, leaving only the ache of something precious lost. Like trying to hold water in cupped hands, watching it slip away no matter how tightly I clutch.

Light magic crackles beneath my skin, fighting against the corruption that seeps through my veins like oil through water.

The torches outside my cell flare brighter in response, their flames reaching toward me like desperate fingers.

Ever since her transformation, since those damned wings burst into existence, I can feel the Heart of Eternity’s pull. Feel her.

The bond pulses, this new, maddening connection sending waves of her essence through me—warm and vital and absolutely destroying everything I thought I knew about power and control.

I slam my fist into the wall, welcoming the sharp pain that blooms across my knuckles.

Anything to distract from her presence suddenly threaded through my blood, my bones, my very soul.

“Get out,” I snarl at the empty cell, but I’m not sure if I’m talking to her or the growing warmth in my chest that feels suspiciously like longing. Like destiny finally catching up to all of us. “Get out get out get out.”

But she won’t. She’s there when I close my eyes, laughing in the library as she masters a new spell, eyes sparkling with triumph.

She’s there in my dreams, reaching for me with shadows that feel like silk against my skin, wanting to share rather than consume.

She’s there in every beat of my treacherous heart, making me question everything I thought I knew about power and corruption and the lines between light and dark.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” I whisper to the darkness that won’t answer. The bond surges again, and this time I catch fragments of her emotions—determination, fear, a fierce protectiveness that makes my chest ache with something I refuse to name. “You weren’t supposed to matter.”

Footsteps echo down the corridor, lighter than the guards’, precise and purposeful.

I don’t bother looking up when Alenya appears outside my cell, her white uniform practically glowing in the dim light.

But part of me, the part that still remembers the exact shade of violet in Kaia’s eyes, wants to scream at her to leave before she offers what I know I’ll be too weak to refuse.

“Poor fallen star,” she says, her voice dripping false sympathy. “How the mighty Light Faction has dimmed. ”

I laugh, the sound harsh even to my own ears. “Come to gloat, Alenya? Or does your mother need another report on the academy’s greatest failure?”

“I come with knowledge.” She steps closer to the bars, and I catch a whiff of something ancient and wrong beneath her perfect light magic, something that makes the corruption inside me stir hungrily. “About why the corruption burns differently now. Why you can feel her.”

The bond pulses at her words, and for a moment I’m drowning in Kaia’s essence, her strength, her compassion, her absolute conviction that magic isn’t about control but connection. The force of it nearly brings me to my knees.

“I see how you strain against it,” Alenya continues carefully.

“The corruption isn’t sitting well anymore, not since she revealed what she is.

” Her voice drops lower. “He always knew you would be connected to her. That’s why he chose you, prepared you.

There are ways to ensure that connection serves our purpose rather than hers. ”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snap, but my hand presses against my chest where Kaia’s presence burns like an ember lodged beneath my ribs.

Her smile is sharp as a blade. “Don’t I?

He saw this moment centuries ago—the light bearer and the shadow walker, bound by power neither understands.

But he wasn’t the only one watching.” Her lips curl with smug satisfaction.

“The ancient ones thought they could contain the God by sealing the bloodlines away from each other. But he made sure you would find each other when the time was right. Made sure your magic would remember its true purpose. ”

“Alekir.” The name tastes like metal on my tongue. “This was his plan all along.”

“He offers freedom, Darian. From this bond, from her influence, from everything that would chain you to powers you were never meant to embrace.” She leans closer to the bars.

“He’ll tear down the walls between realms, let power flow as it was meant to.

And in that freedom, only the strongest magic will survive. ”

I press my hand harder against my chest, feeling Kaia’s essence pulse beneath my palm.

The corruption in my veins stirs hungrily at the thought of being free.

But something else stirs too, something that remembers the way her power had reached for mine, almost like it saw past Thorne’s corruption to something real beneath.

“And what does he want in return?”

“Only what we’ve been planning for centuries. The six bloodlines, aligned at last—but corrupted rather than pure. Breaking the seal instead of maintaining it.” Her eyes gleam with zealous fire. “You’re just the first piece. She’s another. And when all six finally gather…”

No more her, I think, and suddenly I see her face with perfect clarity, violet eyes bright with betrayal as I attacked her in the arena.

But beneath the betrayal had been something worse—understanding.

Forgiveness. A willingness to still reach for me even as I tried to destroy everything we could have been.

“When?” I ask, and feel the corruption surge with victory even as something in my soul begins to scream.

“Soon.” Alenya produces a key that shivers with power. “Very soon.”

The bond flares one last time, and now I recognize what it’s trying to tell me.

This isn’t about freedom, it’s about fear.

Fear of how deeply she’s worked her way into my heart.

Fear of how right it feels when our magic dances together.

Fear of belonging to something larger than my own carefully constructed walls.

I’ll forget the color of her eyes. I’ll forget everything about her.

I have to.

Because if I don’t, if I let myself remember exactly how her violet eyes sparkle when she laughs, how her shadows reach for my light like old friends coming home… I’ll never be able to do what needs to be done.

Even if it means destroying the best part of myself in the process.

After Alenya leaves, I sink to the floor of my cell, pressing my forehead against the cool stone. The key she left, my promise of freedom, burns in my palm like a brand.

Something shifts in the shadows near the ceiling, a movement too deliberate to be natural. I look up, expecting another trick of the corruption, another phantom to torment me.

Instead, I find myself staring at the tiniest wisp of shadow I’ve ever seen, barely larger than my hand. It bobs peacefully near a crack in the ancient stonework, seemingly unbothered by the containment wards that should be keeping it out.

“What—” I start, but the word catches in my throat as the tiny shadow drifts closer. There’s something different about this one, something pure and untainted. Starlight ripples through its form like captured moonbeams.

The little shadow does a lazy flip in the air before settling at eye level. If a shadow could look curious, this one definitely does .

“You shouldn’t be here,” I tell it, but I make no move to attack. My light magic stirs, but not aggressively. If anything, it seems… interested. “She’ll be looking for you.”

The shadow bobs in what might be agreement, then drifts even closer. My breath catches as it brushes against my hand. The touch feels like sunshine and laughter, nothing like the oily corruption trying to twist my power.

“Stop it,” I whisper, but the shadow only repeats the gesture, more deliberately this time. Memories flash through my mind. Kaia’s smile, her shadows dancing with my light, the way everything had felt right before fear poisoned it all.

The wisp expands slightly, showing me a glimpse of something—six points of light arranged in a perfect pattern, power flowing between them like rivers of starfire. At the center, a familiar violet glow pulses with possibility.

“I can’t,” I tell the shadow, closing my eyes against the vision that feels too much like hope. “I won’t be bound. Not even for her. Not even if—”

But the shadow just bobs serenely, completely unfazed by my denial. It shows me another image. My light magic twining with her shadows, creating something neither dark nor bright but somehow both. Something beautiful.

Something free.

“Please,” I breathe, not sure if I’m asking it to stop or show me more. “I can’t… I have to…”

The tiny shadow settles on my shoulder, its starlit form pulsing gently. For just a moment, I let myself feel it. The echo of what could be, if I were brave enough to choose connection over fear .

Then I remember Alenya’s key, Alekir’s promise of freedom, and I force myself to stand. The tiny shadow drifts back, watching me with what feels like gentle understanding.

“Go back to her,” I say roughly. “Tell her…” My voice breaks, shattering on the truth I can’t escape. “Tell her I remember the color of her eyes.”

The shadow does another lazy flip before floating back toward the crack in the wall. Just before it disappears, it shows me one last image—a future where light and shadow dance together, unbound yet perfectly aligned.

I clutch the key tighter, letting its cold metal ground me against the vision’s warmth.

I have to forget that future. Have to forget her eyes.

Have to forget how much I want everything that tiny, impossible shadow just showed me.