The wind howled across the craggy cliffs, carrying with it an unsettling chill that crept into Isabella's bones. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, her gaze fixed on the horizon. Below her, the valley stretched out in shadow—an endless sea of dark forest where the Beasts prowled unseen.
The mark on her hand still pulsed faintly, a constant reminder of her connection to the Heartstone. Its warmth was comforting, though it also felt like a burden she could never set down. They will come for you, Caelum had said. The words echoed in her mind like a drumbeat, warning her that the clock was ticking.
"You shouldn't linger so close to the edge."
Isabella turned to find Malrik emerging from the shadows of a nearby boulder. His form shifted unnaturally as he moved, part substance and part void. Despite the disquiet he brought, she was starting to find comfort in his presence—his bluntness, his unwavering focus.
"I needed some air," she replied, brushing stray hair from her face. "It's quieter out here."
Malrik tilted his head, his crimson eyes unblinking. "You mistake silence for safety, girl. In these lands, the two rarely coexist."
Isabella sighed. "I know. But I can't hide in the Archives forever. If the Beasts are coming, I need to be ready for them."
"And you think standing on a cliff will prepare you?" Malrik said, his voice laced with sarcasm.
She scowled at him. "I'm trying to clear my head. Not all of us can train with shadows and swords."
"Then perhaps it is time you learn," he retorted sharply. "The mark on your hand makes you a beacon. Every shadow will see you, every creature of darkness will hunt you. If you hesitate when they strike, you will die."
Isabella met his gaze, unflinching. The truth in his words hit her harder than she wanted to admit. She had the power of the Heartstone, but power without skill was useless. She needed to learn how to fight—how to survive.
"Teach me," she said suddenly.
Malrik blinked, surprised. "What?"
"You heard me," Isabella said, stepping closer. "Teach me. I can't rely on you and the others forever. If I'm going to face the Beasts, I need to know how to defend myself."
A low chuckle rumbled from Malrik's throat. "You are bold, girl, I'll grant you that. But you won't like what I have to teach."
"I don't care," Isabella shot back. "I'm not afraid of hard work."
Malrik's gaze lingered on her for a long moment before he nodded. "Very well. You may regret this decision sooner than you think."
The training began at dawn. The sky was streaked with pale hues of orange and pink as Isabella stood in an open clearing behind the Archives. Malrik circled her like a predator, his voice cold and commanding.
"Rule one," he said, "is to never underestimate your opponent. A Beast's strength is not just in its claws and fangs but in its cunning. They think, Isabella. They wait for you to make a mistake."
"Got it," she replied, trying to steady her breathing.
"Good." Malrik raised a hand, and suddenly, a shadow detached itself from the ground, rising up to take a form—a featureless silhouette that mirrored Isabella's stance.
She took a step back instinctively. "What is that?"
"A sparring partner," Malrik said simply. "It will not go easy on you, so I suggest you start moving."
Before she could respond, the shadow lunged. Isabella barely had time to throw herself to the side, landing hard on her shoulder. Pain flared through her arm, but she scrambled to her feet, heart pounding.
"You call that dodging?" Malrik barked. "If that had been a real Beast, you'd be dead already. Move! Again!"
The shadow lunged a second time, its speed even faster. Isabella ducked, twisting to avoid its strike, but it clipped her side, sending her stumbling. She gritted her teeth as she hit the ground again, frustration bubbling up inside her.
"It's too fast!" she shouted.
"No," Malrik snapped. "You're too slow."
The shadow paused as Malrik walked toward her, his form towering over her where she knelt.
"Do you think the Beasts will wait for you to catch your breath?" he hissed. "Do you think they will show mercy when you fall? No. They will rip you apart while you beg for your life. Fight. Get up and fight."
Isabella pushed herself to her feet, her chest heaving. The mark on her hand burned faintly, as if encouraging her. She clenched her fists and turned to face the shadow.
"Again," she said through gritted teeth.
Malrik smiled faintly, though his expression was far from kind. "Good."
The hours dragged on, marked by bruises, sweat, and exhaustion. Each time Isabella fell, Malrik ordered her back to her feet. She dodged, rolled, and lunged until her muscles screamed in protest, but slowly—painfully—she began to improve.
By the time the sun began to set, Isabella stood panting in the clearing, facing the shadow with a newfound resolve. This time, when it lunged, she anticipated its movement. She sidestepped at the last second, pivoting sharply to face it again.
"Enough," Malrik called, and the shadow dissolved into mist. "You've earned your rest… for now."
Isabella collapsed to her knees, her limbs trembling. Her entire body ached, but beneath the pain was something else—a flicker of pride. She had survived the day.
Malrik approached her, his shadow stretching long across the ground. "You're stubborn, girl. That may yet save you."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Isabella muttered, wiping sweat from her brow.
Malrik didn't respond, but as he turned to leave, he paused.
"Tomorrow, we train with weapons," he said. "The Beasts won't fight you with shadows alone."
Isabella nodded, too tired to speak. As Malrik disappeared into the growing darkness, she lay back on the grass, staring up at the deepening sky. The first stars were beginning to appear, their faint glow a reminder that even in the vast darkness, light still endured.
She placed a hand over the mark on her palm, feeling its gentle hum. She had chosen this path, and no matter how hard it became, she wouldn't turn back.
Far in the distance, beyond the forests and mountains, the shadows gathered—their restless hunger drawn to the light of the Heartstone. And somewhere in that darkness, a voice whispered her name.
Isabella.
They were coming.