Chapter 34

  The Edge of the Shadow

  Blanche sat beside Freya’s bed, hands folded tightly in her lap.

  The small chamber was quiet, lit only by the faint glow seeping in from the lava-lit caves beyond. Freya lay motionless beneath thin blankets, her face pale, her breathing shallow but steady. Blanche dipped a cloth into a bowl of cold water and gently laid it across Freya’s forehead, hoping to draw the heat from her skin, hoping, more than anything, that it was enough.

  “Oh, Freya…” Blanche murmured, her voice heavy with fear. She shook her head slowly. “I knew this would happen. You have too much power to bear alone.”

  She rose and crossed the room, staring out through the narrow window into the dim, glowing expanse of the Cave of Alsamar. Lava flowed far below like slow-moving stars, casting a restless orange light across the stone walls.

  “I’ve seen it before,” Blanche whispered. “The strength. The force. The way it takes hold.” Her fingers curled into fists. “And it is terrifying.”

  She returned to the bedside, lifting a jug and pouring water into a mug. Slowly, carefully, she tipped it toward Freya’s lips. A moment later Freya coughed, spluttering weakly as she swallowed. Her eyelids fluttered.

  “Blanche…?” Freya murmured, her voice barely more than breath. “Is that you?”

  Relief flooded Blanche’s face. “It is,” she said softly, smiling despite the worry etched into her features. “I’m glad you’re back.”

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  Freya’s brow creased faintly. “What… what happened?”

  Blanche pulled her chair closer and sat. “You let the magic control you,” she said gently. “Sometimes magic becomes too much. It’s a gift, yes, but it’s also a force. And sometimes that force doesn’t want to be contained.”

  Freya swallowed, her throat dry. “I’ve never… lost control like that before.”

  “I know,” Blanche replied. “But I think you were trying to prove yourself. To me. Maybe even to yourself.” Her voice wavered. “I trained a young girl once. Long ago. She did the same thing, opened herself too wide. She never came back from it.”

  Freya’s fingers tightened around the blanket.

  “Magic,” Blanche continued, quieter now, “is something we are allowed to use. It does not belong to us. The forces move as they wish. Our task is to keep the floodgates closed, to guide the power, not drown in it.” She refilled the mug and pressed it gently back into Freya’s hands. “Control is just as important as strength.”

  Freya drank slowly, the cool water grounding her. Silence stretched between them, long, fragile, filled with thoughts neither dared to voice.

  After a moment, Freya spoke again. “I was somewhere else. A dark place. I couldn’t find my way out, it was cold… empty… like the world had forgotten me.”

  Blanche’s expression hardened. “The Shadow,” she said. “The realm just beyond. When magic overwhelms you, that’s where you go, a liminal place between worlds and mind.” She met Freya’s eyes. “Every mage has been there. I have. You have now. And someday, you may again. But with control, you’ll learn to feel when you’re pushing too far—and stop before you fall.”

  She leaned back, forcing a small smile. “No more training today. You need rest.”

  Freya pushed herself upright slightly, frustration flashing across her tired face. “But the mission—”

  “The mission needs you alive,” Blanche said firmly. “You’ve already walked the Shadow once today. That is more than enough.”

  Freya sighed, then nodded, though the fire in her eyes had not dimmed.

  Tomorrow, she would be stronger.

  Today, she would survive.

  Thanks for reading!

  Every time someone spends a few minutes in the world of Shahero, it honestly means more than I can properly put into words. Seeing people follow the journey of Tyron, Samantha, Lazarus, Freya, Cid, and Zara makes all the hours of writing worth it.

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  Question for readers:What moment in this chapter stood out to you the most?

  See you in the next chapter.

  — Matthew Cooke-Sumner