Shadows in the Glass

Chapter 11 - Threads of Fate

Aurelia's POV: Six months later

Aurelia crouched low, her eyes narrowed as she kept Raphael in her sights. The training hall echoed with the soft thud of her footsteps, the sound of her controlled breathing mingling with the hum of energy in the room. Raphael's gaze was locked on her, his body poised with that practiced stillness that made her feel like he could anticipate her every move. Maelis lounged against the wall, one eyebrow quirked in amusement, his presence both a distraction and a source of silent encouragement.

"Focus," she reminded herself, feeling the pulse of her abilities stirring in her veins. She'd come a long way since her first awkward days here, stumbling through her abilities with a rawness that seemed like a lifetime ago.

Months had passed in this world, filled with intense training sessions, late nights in the library with Jason, and endless lessons on her clan's history. Malrik had been particularly diligent about her studies, always present to guide—or sometimes subtly manipulate—her knowledge. He was patient, overly so, always there with a carefully chosen wardrobe that seemed to grow bolder with each passing week. Dresses that clung a bit too closely or left her shoulders bare, all under the guise of tradition or "fitting her role." She had caught on to his intention, yet part of her didn't mind; there was something in his fatherly, almost obsessive approval that was hard to shake off.

Raphael's voice broke into her thoughts. "You're distracted," he said, his tone measured. She met his gaze, catching the faintest hint of a smile.

"Not distracted—strategizing," she retorted, feigning confidence. She pushed off her back foot, darting forward with a newfound grace, blending her speed with an attempt to manipulate her energy just as she'd been taught.

Her moves were sharper, more instinctive. She ducked and spun, aiming a quick jab toward his side. Raphael sidestepped effortlessly, catching her wrist mid-swing. His grip was firm but not painful, and he used her momentum to pull her off balance, forcing her to pivot in a way that left her breathless. She staggered, but her inner drive propelled her forward, refusing to back down.

"Come on, just one hit," she thought, as determination hardened within her. She twisted her arm free, the months of training lending her strength, and managed a quick counter move that forced him to take half a step back.

"Close," Raphael acknowledged, letting go, his voice layered with approval and the tiniest flicker of amusement. "But not quite."

She caught Maelis's smirk from the corner of her eye, and for a brief moment, she felt a swell of pride at his silent nod. Training with both of them had developed different parts of her abilities. Maelis taught her to approach with creativity, to tap into her dreams and imagination, while Raphael demanded focus and precision, pushing her to confront her own limitations.

Between sessions, she had spent countless hours in the grand library, a sanctuary of ancient texts and whispered secrets. Jason was often there, his quiet presence both grounding and oddly familiar. Together, they sifted through dusty tomes and records about the Aetherian clan, tracing histories that stretched back beyond any documented memory. There were accounts of her ancestors' powers and their impact on the realms, tales of balance and peace, and a lingering shadow of betrayal and loss that always haunted the final pages of each record. Jason's calm, steady presence anchored her, and despite Malrik's veiled disapproval, she found herself looking forward to their study sessions more and more.

She turned her attention back to Raphael, tightening her stance. She'd yet to land even a single blow on him—no surprise, given that he was the head of the council's army. His skill was unmatched, his every movement sharp, fluid, and deliberate. But today, she was determined to prove herself, even if only by a fraction. Each time she advanced, she combined everything she'd learned: dream manipulation, energy bursts, speed. She felt her power building, thrumming in her veins, the training making her more resilient, more focused.