Conquering The Unbroken

Chapter 11

"You're thinking too much."

I groan through my teeth and loosen my fists. We are making little to no progress. "I'm not trying to think too much," I retort to Citlali. She stands in front of me with a wide stance, rolling her neck back and forth. Mastering her power happened years ago, long before I was born, and she went through the same trials. Now it's my turn, and Citlali is at the helm.

She walks over from where she'd been standing and gestures for me to take a deep breath by mimicking one of her own. Today, her white hair is pulled back into a complicated braid, starting at the base of her scalp and traveling all the way back around to slink out like a tail against her back. If her olive eyes weren't intimidating before, they are now.

"You're thinking too much, I can tell. I know the process of trying to master this power. Trust me, I went through the same thing." Trying to make her voice convey the expression of reassurance, it misses the mark.

I huff a laugh around a frown and regain familiarity with the power underneath my skin. We've been out here for hours now, since the sun rose after Citlali couldn't wait another second to start training with someone that shares an identical struggle with the power of ground. Already, she's managed to construct an entire structure in the shape of a cottage from the ground. The remnants of it are now a pile of loose dirt and rock in the corner of my vision.

In return, my concoction of a cottage was something to the likes of a building that went through terrible destruction. Citlali, trying to crack a joke with Renit standing at my side, said it looked like the buildings after that disastrous night in Arego.

Renit had frowned, shook his head, and told me he'd be at the village when I was ready to come back. He has matters to take care of like training a young witch of storm that can barely handle his power beyond the first spark of lightning. He's afraid of it, and Renit was called in to instruct Alaric with the right training. No witch other than Renit can master that task, not the way he trained my power. Training in the clearing near the castle, exerting myself to exhaustion, doesn't scratch the surface to what I can do.

Looking back towards the village, Renit's smalls storm brews towards the other end. In response, sparks of lightning waver up into the sky but halt in uncertainty. That isn't the power of the banished prince, it's the young boy trying to master something that doesn't fit underneath his skin.

"All you need to do is focus. You're thinking too much about one thing or the next and it's overwhelming your power," Citlali explains. I force myself to nod, my neck moving on its own accord, but Citlali sees right through my false security. "Are you confident in your strengths?"

I can't lie to her. "No, I'm not confident."

"That's the first of your troubles. Get through that confidence and we'll be clear to do whatever you wish with your power."

I scrunch up my nose. "How are we going to do that?"

As if the answer is directly in front of my face, Citlali laughs. "I've never tried it, but there's a drill for two witches of mirroring power. We're identical in strength, so if we send a blast of power at each other, only to meet in the middle, our strength is further realized and our confidence grows."

"That's not true." I immediately shake my head. "Whoever told you that is lying."

Citlali gapes and places her hands on her hips. "Rex Fletcher from Lona taught me that."

"Oh, the human?" I snap. I shove down my need to shiver at the thought of him and his sickly green eyes, the lips that took claim over my own and the hands that explored everything I didn't want him to touch. "He's not a witch, therefore, he knows nothing about your power."