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Winding through the thick forest like a serpent's spine, our path to the lake revealed darker shadows with each turn. Old trees stood sentinel, their bark scarred and weathered, but none commanded the presence of the great oak behind us. I could feel its energy at our backs, like the watchful gaze of an ancient guardian, as we made our way deeper into the woods. I glanced back at my sister, who was absently braiding her hair while walking: a habit that used to drive Mother crazy during lessons.

"Your hair's going to turn into a rat's nest again," I said, smirking. "Remember when Mother had to cut out that tangle because you wouldn't stop fidgeting during meditation?"

She stuck out her tongue. "At least I don't look like someone who's seen ghosts whenever I wake up, dear brother," She reached up and ruffled my perpetually messy hair, ducking away from my retaliating swat with a giggle that seemed too loud in the forest's oppressive silence.

The laughter died quickly. Above us, branches wove together in a living tapestry so dense that sunlight filtered through in mere whispers. The air hung thick with moisture, carrying the complex symphony of forest scents. Near the path, delicate white flowers with see-through stems swayed without wind, their petals chiming softly.

My boots broke through the soft upper crust of mud with each step. "Gods-cursed mud," I muttered as my foot sank particularly deep. "This better be worth it, little sister."

"You're just mad because you have to wade through it like a normal person while I..." She deliberately stepped on a patch of mud, but instead of sinking deep, her foot barely left an impression, this forest affected her, like an advantage. She grinned at my scowl. "Prodigies have their perks."

"Show-off," I grumbled, but couldn't help smiling. Her natural talent had always been a point of pride, even if it stung sometimes.

The cold energy saturated the air around us—visible to me only in the way it made her fingers twitch and dance at her sides. A cluster of ice-blue buds grew nearby, never quite blooming, their frozen petals catching what little light penetrated the canopy. Black thorny plants with blue highlights lined the path, seeming to bend away from our presence.

"The magic here is thick," I muttered, my fingers finding the sword's hilt. "It's... alive somehow."

Her response was a slight nod, but I caught her sticking her tongue out again when she thought I wasn't looking. Even here, in this oppressive place, she couldn't help being the annoying little sister. It was oddly comforting.

The lake appeared suddenly, as if conjured from the forest's shadows—a perfect black mirror stretched beneath the bruised sky. No wind disturbed its surface; even the air seemed to hold its breath here. Trees crowned its edges, their gnarled branches reaching over the water like mourners bent in prayer, fingers trailing in the depths. Along the shore, silvery moss wept luminescent tears that traced patterns across the water's surface before fading too quickly, as if the lake hungrily devoured even light itself.

"It's beautiful," She whispered, her usual mischief subdued by the lake's presence. "And scary. Like Mother's stories about the old places."

I watched her approach the water's edge, her movements careful, almost reverent. The air grew heavier with each step she took, thick with potential. She knelt at the shoreline above the rock, her small frame somehow both vulnerable and powerful in that moment. When her fingers touched the water's surface, barely a whisper of contact, ripples spread in perfect circles—too perfect, too deliberate to be natural.

She closed her eyes, her breath steadying into the rhythm Mother had taught us years ago. I recognized the counting: four heartbeats in, hold for seven, release for eight. The air around her began to shimmer, like heat waves rising from summer stones, but here in the perpetual twilight of the forest, it felt more profound. Raw power responded to her call, drawn to her like iron to a lodestone.

"That's it," I murmured, taking a step back as the energy built. "Just like Mother showed you."

The magic gathered around her in visible waves now, making her hair float slightly as if she were underwater. Her skin began to glow faintly from within, like sunlight through alabaster. This was what awakening should look like, what mine should have been. The thought stuck in my throat like a swallowed thorn.

Pride and pain warred in my chest as I watched my little sister reach for something I'd never grasp. The sword at my hip felt like a burden as if responding to my unease emotions. Alira had been born touched by magic; it sang in her blood, danced at her fingertips, and answered her calls like an eager friend. For her, the awakening will be as natural as a flower turning toward the sun.

And me? I had a blade I wielded with a skill I couldn't explain and combat instincts that felt borrowed from someone else. The magic I'd yearned for all my life flowed around me now, thick enough to taste the metallic tang on my tongue, yet remained forever out of reach.

"Your control is getting better, just keep that rhythm," I said, forcing warmth into my voice despite the hollow ache in my chest. Because it was true, and because she was my sister, and her triumph shouldn't be shadowed by my failure.

A faint smile touched her lips, though her eyes remained closed in concentration. Even now, on the cusp of her awakening, she was still my little sister; the same girl who used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms, who'd act as a sorceress by just lighting candles in my room when I was trying to read, who'd once turned my hair blue for a week after I hid her favorite storybook.

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The water at her fingertips began to spiral upward, defying gravity in a delicate dance. Small droplets hung in the air like suspended stars, catching the ghostly light of the weeping moss. This was power in its purest form, beautiful and natural and completely beyond my reach.

"That’s it, you are getting close," I breathed, watching a faint luminescence begin to bloom beneath her skin. "And try not to push yourself too hard, you know what would happen."

She cracked one eye open to glare at me. "That was just one time you failed, and you promised never to—"

The peaceful moment shattered with a sound like breaking branches.

My hand found the sword before my mind registered movement. A bestial growl rolled through the trees, carrying with it the stench of open graves and rotting meat. "Shit," I hissed through clenched teeth. "Alira, behind me. Now."

Two goblins slunk from the dense underbrush, their hunched bodies moving through the shadows with unsettling speed. Their pale, mottled green skin was smeared with filth, and their yellow eyes gleamed with a savage hunger. Both carried a crude, rusted blade, more disease than steel.

My heart pounded in my chest as I watched them approach, muscles coiling with tension. Goblins rarely strayed this far from their caves. Their presence here, near the lake, meant something was wrong.

One of them lunged, quicker than I expected. Its rusty blade sliced through the air, aiming low for my legs. I sidestepped just in time, but the wet ground shifted beneath me, nearly throwing me off balance. I grunted, regaining my footing, just as the goblin attacked again. My sword came up to meet its strike, the impact jarring my arm. The goblin snarled, its filthy teeth bared in frustration, eyes gleaming with vicious intent.

The second goblin circled behind me, waiting for an opening. I could feel its eyes on me, calculating, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Then something inside me shifted.

My body moved before my mind could catch up. Instincts that were mine, or someone’s, took over. My feet shifted, my grip tightened, and my sword swung in a fluid arc, cutting through the air with a speed that startled even me.

The first goblin never had a chance. The blade sliced cleanly through its neck, its head rolling across the ground in a spray of blood and the insides. The creature’s body crumpled at my feet, lifeless. I stood there, panting, staring down at the body as the adrenaline surged through my veins. I didn’t know what I looked like at that moment, but I can say it was not me; this insatiable bloodthirst was not mine; this anger was not mine.

"Bastard," I spat as the second goblin hesitated, its eyes flicking between me and the fallen creature at my feet. It screeched, baring its teeth, but I was already moving. The blade flashed again, faster this time, and the goblin hit the ground with a wet thud, its throat opened to the iron-grey sky. The stench of their blood—like rotted meat and stagnant water—made my stomach turn. But the bloodthirst was still there, searching for something, for someone.

"Brother..." Alira's voice trembled. Gone was the teasing little sister, replaced by something more uncertain. "How did you..."

Her voice, though filled with fear, sounded sweet to me, pulling me from the darkness like a torch lit in the night. I looked at her; she was trembling, both at my sight and under her brother’s gaze.

"I don't know." The words tasted like copper on my tongue. The sword felt heavy again, unfamiliar.

She stepped closer, placing a small hand on my arm. "You're shaking." Her voice was soft, concerned—the same tone she'd used months ago when I'd failed my awakening. "Einar... you are still there?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, too quickly. I forced a weak smile. "Just don't tell anyone your big brother cursed like a drunkard, okay?"

She didn't laugh this time. Her eyes studied my face with worry. "Your eyes... they're glowing."

Ignoring her, I calmed myself with a deep breath as something caught my eye, a faint glow coming from the creature’s chest. Reaching down, I pulled out a small, pulsating stone. Core. Without thinking, I tossed it to my sister.

I watched her carefully as I gestured toward the luminescent stone, its pale blue light casting ethereal shadows across her face. "Absorb it. It's pure energy. It'll help you," I said, my voice low and steady despite the lingering exhaustion in my bones.

"How do I...?" She blinked uncertainly, cradling the stone in her trembling palm like it might shatter at any moment. Her fingers curled around it hesitantly, and I could see the faint pulse of energy responding to her touch.

"Just focus like before," I replied, pushing myself up from my crouch with a quiet grunt. My muscles protested the movement, still raw from the earlier fight. "Feel the energy inside it. Draw it into yourself."

She nodded, her face settling into familiar lines of concentration. I'd seen that look before during our training sessions, but this was different – more intense, more vital. The stone's glow began to dim as she connected with it, threads of light seeming to flow up her arms like luminous veins.

I managed a smile, but I knew it didn't reach my eyes. My thoughts were too heavy, too tangled with darker things – the savage dance of the fight replaying in my mind, the way my body had moved with a grace that wasn't my own, guided by instincts I'd never learned. Something else had taken root inside me, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know what it was.

A shadow flickered at the edge of my vision—a presence more felt than seen. By the time I turned, it had vanished like morning mist, leaving only the sensation of being watched.

"We need to go," I said, my grip white-knuckled on the hilt. "Before dark claims the forest." And before whatever was watching us decided to show itself.

Alira fell in behind me, close enough that I could feel her trembling slightly. The playful sister was gone, replaced by a frightened girl who suddenly seemed very young. I reached back and squeezed her hand, just once, like I used to do when thunderstorms kept her awake as a child.

As we left the lake behind, questions churned in my gut like poison. Something was awakening inside me, something that felt both perfectly right and terribly wrong.

Like memories that belonged to someone else.

And in the growing shadows, unseen eyes tracked our retreat, patient as the grave.

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