Chapter 7 Bonds of magic part 1

The door opened, and Dagon entered. He looked the same as always, tall and confident, those flame tattoos dancing across his arms. But now she couldn't look at him without seeing her brother's face, and couldn't think of anything but that final trial four years ago.

"You're early," he said, moving to select practice weapons.

"Couldn't sleep," she replied, proud that her voice sounded steady.

He turned to study her face. Something in her expression must have caught his attention because his eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you feeling well? You look... angry."

Angry. The word didn't even begin to cover what she was feeling.

"I'm fine," she said. "Let's just train."

"Perhaps we should talk first,"

"No." The word came out sharper than she intended. "I said I'm fine."

Dagon's eyebrows rose at her tone, but he didn't argue. "Very well. Today, we work on magical resonance. Master Corvina wants to see how our abilities interact under stress. The Master was summoned elsewhere."

He raised his practice sword and flames bloomed along the edge. The fire was beautiful and controlled, dancing along the steel without burning it. But all Kaela could think about was her brother. Had Kieran seen those same flames in his final moments?

"Focus," Dagon said quietly. "Your magic is unstable."

He was right. Her veil magic was responding to her emotions, making the air shimmer with chaotic energy. She took a deep breath and tried to center herself, but the anger kept burning in her chest.

"Let's begin with basic exercises," Dagon continued. "Reach for your power and let it touch mine."

Kaela raised her own sword and called on her magic. The familiar sensation of concealment wrapped around her, but something was wrong. Instead of the smooth control she had been developing, the power came in wild bursts.

The moment her magic touched Dagon's flames, chaos erupted.

Her veil magic didn't just bend light - it twisted reality. The chamber plunged into absolute darkness punctuated by flashes of impossible brightness. Shadows took on weight and substance, reaching for Dagon like grasping hands. The temperature dropped so fast that frost began forming on the walls.

"Kaela!" His voice was sharp with alarm. "Control it!"

But she couldn't control it. The magic had taken on a life of its own, fed by her anger and grief and the terrible weight of knowing he had been there. The darkness grew deeper, hungrier, trying to swallow everything in the room.

Through the chaos, she could see Dagon struggling to maintain his flames. His fire fought against her shadows, but they were being overwhelmed. For a moment, real fear flickered across his face.

Good, she thought. Let him be afraid.

With enormous effort, she pulled the magic back. The darkness faded slowly, leaving them both breathing hard in the flickering light of Dagon's flames.

"What was that?" he asked quietly.

"That was four years of anger," she said, her voice deadly calm. "Four years of wondering why my brother had to die. Why did the empire need his blood to feed its entertainment?"

Dagon went very still. "Kaela,"

"Do you know what it's like?" she continued, stepping closer. "To lose the only person who believed in you? To watch your mother waste away from grief while the neighbors whisper about how your family reached too high?"

"I know,"

"You know nothing!" The words exploded out of her. "You sit in your noble towers, playing with fire and pretending to understand sacrifice. But you've never lost anything that mattered. You've never had to bury someone you loved because they weren't born with the right bloodline."

"That's not true," Dagon said quietly.

"Isn't it? Tell me, what have you ever lost? What price have you ever paid for this empire's entertainment?"

For a moment, he didn't answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough with emotion. "More than you know."

"Pretty words," she snarled. "But words don't bring back the dead. Words don't undo the fact that you were there when he died and you did nothing to save him."

"You think I didn't try?" His careful composure was starting to crack. "You think I wanted any of this to happen?"

"I think you did what was expected of you. I think you followed orders and accepted praise and never once questioned whether it was right." She was close enough now to see the pain in his storm-gray eyes. "I think you're exactly what this place wants you to be - a perfect weapon that kills on command."

"You're wrong."

"Am I? Then why is he dead and you're alive? Why do you get to stand here and train and prepare for a future while he's nothing but ashes and memory?"

"Because the system is rigged!" The words burst out of him with volcanic force. "Because some of us are meant to win and others are meant to die, and it has nothing to do with skill or honor or who deserves to live!"

The admission hung between them like smoke. Kaela stared at him, seeing something raw and bleeding in his expression.