DemiDemonDarla

Chapter 17: The Shaman

>>>>> The crisp mountain air bit at Darla's skin as she climbed the steep, narrow path leading to the ancient shaman's hut. Each step felt heavier than the last, her limbs already aching from the strain of the journey, and her mind racing with doubts. Could she really learn to control her powers in just seven days? It usually took years—decades even—for someone with her mixed lineage to master such volatile magic. But time wasn't on her side. Celestia was under siege from rebel demons, and her powers were growing stronger, more unpredictable, with each passing day.

Zion and Amaia walked just behind her, silent but alert. They, too, were aware of the danger lurking in the city, and the gravity of their task here in the mountains. Far above them, on the cliffside, was the home of Shaman Blanca, a revered elder with ancient knowledge of both the fairy and demon realms. She was their last hope.

When they reached the summit, Darla was out of breath but determined. The shaman's hut was small, built from dark stone and wood, covered in vines and moss that seemed to hum with magic. Smoke curled lazily from a hole in the roof, and the faint scent of herbs lingered in the air. As they approached, the wooden door creaked open, and out stepped an old woman.

Shaman Blanca was shorter than Darla had imagined, her hair long and silver, braided intricately down her back. Her face was lined with age, her eyes sharp and bright with wisdom that only centuries could bring. She carried a staff made of gnarled wood, the top crowned with crystals that glowed faintly. Her presence was ancient, powerful, but there was a kindness in her eyes that reassured Darla.

"You've come," Blanca said, her voice gravelly but strong. "Good. We have much work to do."

---

The next seven days would prove to be the most grueling and dangerous of Darla's life. Shaman Blanca didn't waste any time—she knew the urgency of the situation. On the first day, Darla was pushed to her limits. The training was designed to break her down physically, mentally, and emotionally. Blanca believed that to harness her powers, Darla needed to be stripped of all control and then rebuild herself from the ground up.

The morning started with basic physical drills—running through the forest, climbing cliffs, swimming through frigid rivers. Darla's muscles screamed in protest, but Blanca wouldn't let her rest. Zion and Amaia trained alongside her, their own magic and strength put to the test.

In the afternoons, the real challenges began. Shaman Blanca taught Darla how to control the flow of her power, how to balance the conflicting energies of her demon and fairy bloodlines. It was like trying to hold two storms at bay—one wild and fiery, the other calm but immensely powerful.

On the second day, Darla's powers began to surge unexpectedly. While practicing meditation with the shaman, she felt a burning in her chest, and before she knew it, a blast of energy shot out from her hands, nearly knocking down a tree. Amaia rushed to her side, her wings fluttering with concern, while Zion stood guard, his eyes sharp and wary.

"Darla, you need to stay calm," Amaia urged, but Darla's frustration was growing.

"I'm trying!" Darla shouted, her voice echoing through the forest. "But it's like I can't control it. It just keeps coming out."

Shaman Blanca stepped forward, her face stern. "Your powers are not something to be controlled, child. They are part of you. You must learn to listen to them, not suppress them."

Darla took a deep breath, trying to focus on the shaman's words. But it was easier said than done. Every time she tried to concentrate, she felt the energy slip through her fingers like water. It was infuriating.