Alnea leaned closer until her mouth was next to Vaela’s ear, her breath sending chills down Vaela’s spine. “Your futile self-sacrifice won’t save your friends.” Vaela gasped and jerked away. Alnea caught her by the back of the neck and slammed an elbow into Vaela’s abdomen. Vaela groaned and doubled over, struggling to breathe. Alnea bowed over her, words driving down like hail. “Isn’t that what Adyr already did?”

Vaela’s feet were swept out from under her and she fell to the ground. Shouts rang out from Timura and Surah and their footsteps stumbled past Vaela.

“Jace. Hold them.” Alnea’s voice rang with the iron of command.

Vaela pushed to her hands and knees as the sounds of struggle swirled around her. Nearly simultaneous grunts from Timura and Surah came from waist-height as if they’d been forced to their knees. Vaela reeled to her feet and took a step towards their voices. Alnea’s hand wrapped around her wrist and jerked her back. Vaela punched blindly and Alnea smacked her across her cheek. Phantom light flashed past Vaela’s sightless eyes, her head swimming. The strike disoriented her, tilting the world. Alnea’s forearm wrapped around her neck, grounding her in pain. Vaela clutched at Alnea’s arm, but it tightened around her throat before she could intercede her fingers. The pressure in her head rose as all air was cut off. Her chest and limbs burned with embers desperate for breath.

Tapping in an arc–Hermit staff against the ground?–that traced around where Surah’s and Timura’s grunts came from. A slithering that sent ice through Vaela’s veins. Steel against steel–a blade sliding out of a scabbard. It came from where Jace would be.

Hermit wouldn’t…? He couldn’t have taken Jace’s sword.

Vaela tried to lunge forward, but Alnea jerked her back and further constricted her. Alnea twisted Vaela’s right arm and pinned it behind her back between their bodies.

Hermit’s footsteps padded around Surah and Timura until he stood in front of them, presumably. Something long and thin cut through the air a few times. “If you want to save them… you will.”

Pain burned through Vaela, every inch of her body screaming for air. She clawed inward, grasping for Sight or Shadow. Anything–anything to help her. Both were like wild currents, coursing through her. Powerful and elusive, like trying to grab rushing water.

She had to control them. Break them, crush them, drink them, breathe them.

Something whipped through the darkness and cracked against flesh. Surah screamed and Vaela bucked against Alnea.

No. Get free.

Had to…

The blade slashed through the air again and split flesh. Timura cried out. Vaela’s eyes burned, fury pounding through her–a wild animal to be released.

Powerless.

She tore into herself and Alnea’s blood reared up, howling in rebellion. Vaela opened her mouth, gasping in a silent scream.

She would not be powerless.

She ripped into Alnea’s blood and broke it to her will.

The world exploded into hazy shapes. Ghostlike outlines filled her mind, though her eyes still saw only blackness. Vaela smashed her left elbow back, cracking it into Alnea’s ribs. The pressure around her throat released and Vaela took a step forward. The blood screeched within her and she wrung it, like snapping a prey’s neck between her hands. All around, the shapes sharpened into bodies. It was less like seeing and more like knowing where they were.

Jace faced away from her, locking one of Surah’s and Timura’s arms by the elbows behind them. They kneeled at odd angles, pinned by their own unbending joints. And there–Hermit. He towered in the darkness, staff in one hand, sword in the other.

Vaela stepped towards him and something blurred in front of her. She ducked, moving under Alnea’s fist, and sprinted forward. Hermit raised the sword overhead, his body angled towards Surah.

She had to block it. No stick, no shield. She had nothing–nothing but herself.

She reached inward for the Shadow. It stirred like a great beast within her depths. So hard to feel. Her concentration wavered and the world fractured into hazy outlines. She wouldn’t let him hurt Surah. She wouldn’t let anyone hurt her friends anymore, no matter the cost.

The world slipped away as Alnea’s Power struggled from her grasp. Couldn’t use both Shadow and Sight–not while running. The images blurred, then faded, leaving her blind once again. She stumbled between Hermit and Surah. Couldn’t block the blade without Seeing, couldn’t survive it without Shadow.

Save Surah… or save herself.

Vaela screamed and tore into Alnea’s blood, pumping its Power through her body. Images flooded into her mind again. Hermit’s outline, slightly to her right, sword cutting downward towards Surah’s neck. She twisted and threw her arm into its path. The weapon blurred as she released Sight and reached inward for Shadow.

Alnea’s Power wrenched free of her control and the world winked away. In the darkness, she stabbed her will into the Shadow. Yes! Now, to–

The sword slammed into her arm, splitting her skin, and she cried out. She braced her arm with her other hand as pain cut through her senses. She flung her arms away, carrying the blade with them, and fell to her knees.

Her gasps filled her ears, the only sound in the oppressive darkness. Blood ran between her fingers as she clutched her arm. A ray of light stabbed into her eyes, shooting pain through her head. She jerked away and held her arm to her chest. The Shadows melted away and light filled in the world around her. She blinked, halos surrounding everything as her eyes adjusted.

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Vaela spun to Surah and Timura. Surah’s cheek bled from a narrow gash and Timura had a matching cut as well a line of blood on her right sleeve–but they were alive. Jace released them and Timura jumped to her feet. She shook out her arm, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You did it! You channeled Shad–”

Her eyes fell on Vaela’s arm. Blood ran down her arm and dripped from her elbow. Timura’s hands flew to her mouth. “Y-you blocked it… without Shadow. How?”

Hermit’s laughter barked out from behind and he strode in front of them. He waved his weapon and Vaela squinted at the fuzzy shape. She blinked a few times and her eyes adjusted. Hermit wagged Jace’s scabbard at them. “Did you think I’d actually use a sword?”

Timura stared at Vaela. “Did you know?”

Vaela swallowed hard, her entire body trembling from the aftershock of the fight. Surah enveloped her in a hug, pulling her to him.

She clung to him, her throat tight. No. She hadn’t known. Surah released her and Alnea put a hand on Vaela’s shoulder, a smile on her lips. All of Alnea’s blood was burned away, but the world looked brighter than it ever had. Alnea brushed her cheek with the back of her hand. “Now, do you See?”

Vaela collapsed to her hands and knees, tears dotting the ground. Her arms shook, barely keeping her up. She squeezed her eyes shut and gasped for breaths until she lost count. When she opened her eyes, blood had mixed with dirt and formed a red clay around her right hand.

Yes. She could See.

She was afraid. She was hurt.

She was much, much more.

The evening sun hung low, gentle rays slipping away over the hills. Vaela walked from where the others had made camp, through the sparse trees until she lost sight of them. The occasional bark of laughter rolled through the trees, orienting her to their location. It had been an exhausting day–a full day’s ride even after their training fight.

Footsteps crunched over fallen leaves behind Vaela and she turned back. Timura smiled and gave her a small wave as she approached. She tapped along with her staff in hand.

Vaela sat, putting her stick to the side, and patted the ground next to her. Timura settled down and produced a small wineskin flask from her robes. She uncorked it and took a pull before holding it out to Vaela.

Wine. After the day she’d had, she’d like to bathe in it until her skin turned red. Her body ached from being thrown to the ground, from the bruises of sparring every day. Her arm twinged with every movement of her hand. Hermit might not have used a real sword, but the scabbard had cut her plenty.

She took a swig, the red liquid filling her mouth with an unexpected sweetness. Not coppery, not bitter, and without the rush of Power. Strange that she’d become so accustomed to blood.

Timura leaned against Vaela, her body warm and inviting. “I never thanked you.”

Vaela shrugged and handed the flask back. “Don’t worry about it. You would’ve done the same for me.”

Timura scooted around to face Vaela and took her hands. “Not for blocking the sword. For leaving me.”

Vaela tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

Timura stared down at their intertwined fingers and caressed Vaela’s hands with her thumbs. “I know that wasn’t easy for you. But it… it helped me. Made me stronger.”

Timura’s touch was gentle, but her palms were rough with callouses. She was stronger. Ever since she had joined their group, there was something different about her. Like the soft woman back in Xufont was gone now. Her soft edges were still there and she had the same mischievous smile–but there was iron under that smile now. No–darkness. She was becoming Shadow. And that, more than anything, was what she wanted, wasn’t it?

Was it good? Was it bad? Hard to tell. But what was undeniable was that she was stronger. And it was the choosing that had done that. Vaela had to believe that was true. If someone were strong enough, at the right time, at the right moment, they would make their choice–and grow stronger. Timura had done that and she had come back.

Timura pulled Vaela’s hands to her mouth and kissed them. “So, officially… thank you.” She released Vaela and settled back with a nod.

Vaela smiled and scooped up the flask. “Yeah, well, you owe me, then. Big.” She grinned at Timura and tossed the flask over.

Timura burst out laughing and took a drink. She put the flask in her lap and leaned forward, biting her lip. “How can I make it up to you?”

Vaela looked at her–really looked at her. It had been true what Alnea had said. In combat, you could see someone. Under pressure, so much was revealed. In the darkness, lost in the Shadows, Surah and Timura had been there for her. Tried to pull her out, instead of running away by themselves. She took a deep breath, allowing the air to flow through her entire body, and blew out slowly. Yes, she could see Timura. A true friend. And maybe she didn’t quite understand Vaela like Adyr had, but she did genuinely care. She hadn’t run away.

Vaela leaned forward, tilting her head, and Timura reciprocated. Timura’s lips met hers, her hands cradling Vaela’s face. Timura’s palms and fingers were rough with calluses, but her lips were soft. Vaela traced her hands along Timura’s arms, allowing her fingers to trail down Timura’s forearms.

Sensation–like Vaela had never appreciated before–tingled up her fingers. The sheer delight of physical touch. Timura’s sleeves bunched at the elbows and Vaela’s fingers surfed over the fabric. She dropped her right hand to Timura’s ribs and pulled her closer. Vaela’s left hand continued up Timura’s right arm, feeling her body through the sleeve. It was intoxicating–the sensation of Timura’s body, her lips against Vaela’s, the expansion of her ribs with every needy breath. And the feeling of Timura’s blood pounding through her body, thick with Power, almost calling to Vaela.

Vaela’s fingers traced up Timura’s arm just beneath the shoulder and crested over a ridge. Timura winced, breaking off the kiss. Their faces were still so close, a breath away. Timura pulled her shoulder from under Vaela’s fingertips with a rueful grimace. “Still tender.”

Vaela dropped her hand to Timura’s waist with a nod. They were both covered in cuts and bruises. Tapestries of pain, united in their struggle. And that was what being together was, wasn’t it? Two threads of pain, a lifetime of weaving through a hostile world. Timura pulled her into another deep kiss. Their bodies seemed to flow into each other and Timura ran her hands down Vaela’s body. Vaela kissed her back firmly, inundated with waves of Power she could feel pulsing through Timura. Every heartbeat sent a throb of Timura’s blood through her body.

Vaela’s fingers twinged with the phantom of the cut on Timura’s arm. That violation of Timura’s body, skin split and blood escaping. Power, her very life, weeping away. Vaela pushed it from her mind and focused on the feeling of Timura under her hands.

Her body was soft, but firm. Toned muscles under her bruised skin. It was strange. Vaela trailed her fingers along the backs of Timura’s ribs. She was more aware of all the ridges and valleys on another person’s body than she’d ever been. Before her combat training, she would’ve never noticed these things, never noticed the feeling of that cut. Before she would never have hesitated, but now it kept coming back to her. That cut, the doorway to Timura’s blood.

Was that it? Had she become so jaded, so focused on Power, that all she thought of her friend’s injury was a way to get her blood?

No. That couldn’t be it. Vaela broke off the kiss and stared into Timura’s dark eyes.

Her right arm–cut in the same place as before. That’s right. The first time she’d joined them, Jace threw her to the ground. Her arm bled in the same area. A rock cutting her from an unlucky landing.

And now the same thing? Such a straight cut.

Vaela’s heart, already pounding, sped up and pounded fresh anxiety through her body.

It couldn’t be.