𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 (𝟏) | 𝟏𝟖+

xlix. rise of darkness.

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‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖, and so far, it's been horse shit.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎They started to train her newfound magic the day after Morrow shifted back from his wolf form, and at first, she bled with pure optimism that this would all unfold with perfection. She knew there would be obstacles, but not like this. She fails to feel stronger, nor does she feel like Morrow's assistance is helping her. Whatever suggestions Thorn throws at them seem to end in misery, with her in tears of exhaustion or Morrow so mentally strained from connecting to her end of their bond that it knocks him out cold.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎There hasn't been any sign of progress when there should be.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Even now, the three spend their time in the training yard. Thorn observes, shouting orders at her as if that will improve her abilities. Every so often, he throws cannonfire of light in her direction, causing her to shield herself with her own refracting barrier to protect herself. Meanwhile, her mind is filled with Morrow's presence, his voice an echo in her thoughts.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Look left! Morrow shouts.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her silver eyes snap beside her, catching Thorn's advances. She's a second too slow, and the ball of light impales her, sending her skidding over the dirt.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She groans and ends her tether to Morrow. It's so strange to have him so close to her thoughts, to have his aura constantly consuming her own. With him at her end of their mind-link, he's always stalking her mind, daring to take control of her limbs himself.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen sits herself up, her arms gashed and white wings dirtied from her skid. "Damn it!"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Thorn shakes his head. "You're too slow. If Rhimme decides to use his magic to kill you, he'll succeed."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Aren't you a positive guy?" she grumbles, then lets her eyes search for Morrow.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her mind-link to him is tight, almost unbreakable, but he's sending all his energy to her that he's leaving nothing for himself. She finds him slumped over an empty barrel, his face smooshed into his bicep as his black wings blanket behind him. He's passed out, again, from overexerting himself from the bond, snoring away.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen kneels next to her sleeping mate, scratching him behind his ear. "He's out cold again."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I expected more endurance from that hound," the ancient sneers, shaking his head as he stands over her. "I'd feel a lot better if he could stay half-conscious through this."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"We have a strong bond, so I don't understand why he's losing so much energy with his mind-links. It's taking everything out of him."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I see that."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Even if he comes to Pailon's border, he'll need someone to guard him."