The morning sun filtered weakly through the thick canopy of the Ridgehall forest, its early light turning the mist into faint silver ribbons drifting between the trunks. Birds called from above, soft and distant, and the ground remained damp with dew. Kael inhaled deeply. The cool air sharpened his senses, clearing the lingering fatigue from the previous night’s training.

  His right arm still throbbed from the burns and strain of the battle with the Dark Priest’s death knights. Every movement sent a faint sting through the nerves, but he ignored it. Pain was familiar. Pain was manageable. The thing that mattered now—what mattered more than anything—was control.

  Control over the shadows pulsing faintly behind his left eye.

  Kael stood in the same clearing he had chosen the night before, a silent witness to his efforts. The trees surrounded him like guardians, their shadows long and soft in the morning light. His cloak rustled faintly as he adjusted his stance. M’varu, coiled loosely around his neck, lifted his head, tongue flicking.

  “Let’s begin,” Kael murmured.

  The serpent hissed approvingly.

  Kael closed his eyes, drawing his mind inward. The first step, he had discovered, was calm. The shadows did not respond well to force or impatience. They recoiled from aggression, but leaned toward stillness—almost like a living thing searching for warmth.

  He lowered his breathing. Slow. Even.

  He reached toward the pulse behind his left eye—a whisper of power, dark and cool, coiling like smoke.

  Come.

  Nothing happened.

  Kael cracked an eye open, exhaled slowly through his nose, and tried again. This time he visualized the shadows beneath the nearest tree, imagined them stretching toward him, imagined their weight, their texture, their slow, flowing movement.

  A tremor answered. A faint ripple brushed across his fingertips.

  “Good,” Kael whispered. “Again.”

  He extended his left hand toward the ground. The shadows on the forest floor quivered in response, gathering faintly around his boot before dissipating like mist scattered by wind.

  It wasn’t enough.

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  Kael tried for the next hour, adjusting his breathing, adjusting his stance, calming his thoughts. Each attempt brought tiny results—a flicker, a ripple, a tremble. But nothing substantial. Nothing he could shape. Nothing with weight.

  He growled under his breath, frustration curling through him, but he clamped down on it. The shadows immediately shrank as if sensing his agitation.

  M’varu nudged his jaw, hissing softly.

  “You’re right,” Kael muttered. “Calm.”

  He straightened, rolled his shoulders, and let the forest sounds settle into him—the rustling leaves, distant croaking frogs, the whisper of wind against bark. Gradually, the frustration ebbed.

  He lifted his hand and tried again.

  This time, the shadows stretched. Slowly. Weakly. Like thin wisps that reached toward him, hesitant, as if unsure of his intentions.

  Kael held his breath, maintaining the steady calm.

  The shadows wrapped lightly around his fingers.

  He closed his fist gently—

  And the shadows dispersed entirely.

  Kael let his hand drop. Sweat trickled down his temple. “Still not enough,” he muttered. “But closer.”

  Hours passed. The sun climbed higher, painting the clearing in warmer light that made the shadows retreat. Kael had to shift positions constantly, searching for darker patches beneath thicker trees just to continue his attempts.

  He focused on the shadows cast by a wide oak. These were stronger, sharper, easier to grasp. He reached out with his mind—

  Come to me.

  Again the faint ripple.

  Again the tiny tremble.

  Again they faded.

  Kael wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, breathing hard. “This is slower than I expected,” he muttered. “But I won’t stop.”

  He closed his eyes again.

  He focused deeper.

  The scenes from the cave flickered in his mind—the death knights, the Dark Priest’s cold smile, the way her corpse had felt beneath his hand just before the copy ability had triggered. The energy that flowed into him then was nothing like the necrotic aura she wielded. It wasn’t death. It wasn’t decay.

  It was shadow.

  Alive, watching, waiting.

  Kael inhaled slow and deep, lowering his heartbeat.

  He projected his thoughts into the ground, into the earth itself, into the darkness that pooled beneath the roots of every tree surrounding him.

  And then—

  A pulse.

  A real one.

  The shadows stretched, swirling faintly around his boots. A thin tendril lifted from the ground like smoke rising from a dying candle.

  Kael held still.

  Steady…

  Slowly… carefully… he shaped the energy with his mind.

  A spike. A point. Something sharp.

  The shadows trembled, resisting the formation.

  Kael grit his teeth softly and maintained his calm. “Come on,” he whispered. “Just a little more.”

  The shadows flickered violently.

  Then—

  They collapsed.

  Kael groaned inwardly. “Again.”

  He repeated the process. Calm. Focus. Reach. Shape.

  And again the shadows failed.

  Hours bled away. The sun began to lower again, casting deep golden light across the forest. Exhaustion pressed at Kael’s body, but he refused to give in. He steadied himself, inhaled slowly, and tried one final time.

  He focused on the shadow beneath the largest tree in the clearing. It stretched long and deep, its shape sharp and cool.

  Kael slowly extended his hand.

  M’varu watched silently, motionless.

  Kael reached with his mind—

  Come.

  The shadow rose.

  This time Kael kept his breathing perfectly steady. He didn’t rush. He didn’t force. He didn’t overthink. He allowed the shadow to flow. Allowed it to respond. Allowed it to move freely while he guided it gently, like a hand guiding a wild animal without touching it.

  The shadow curled.

  Thickened.

  Then—slowly—it sharpened.

  A spike. Thin. Fragile. Barely the size of a dagger.

  But undeniably real.

  The spike flickered weakly, trembling as if it would vanish any moment.

  Kael tightened his focus and willed it forward.

  The spike shot out—

  And struck the tree trunk.

  Thhhhk—!

  The wood quivered. The spike pierced an inch deep before dissolving back into darkness.

  Kael stared at the mark on the tree.

  Then a small breath escaped him—a short exhale mixed with disbelief, pride, and relief.

  He smiled faintly.

  M’varu hissed in approval, slithering proudly along his shoulders.

  Kael lowered his hand and whispered, “Another day of training… successful.”