Zara’s POV

  The air was thick with tension as we gathered in the clearing behind my house. The city’s looming threats felt distant here, but we all knew better. Every second wasted was another magical disappearing. Another life stolen by the Sovereign Order. Kage stood before us, his stance firm, arms crossed as he surveyed the group.

  “We start with the basics,” he said, his voice even. “Hand-to-hand combat. You can have all the magic in the world, but if someone gets too close and you don’t know how to handle yourself, you’re dead.”

  Doran cracked his knuckles, grinning. “Finally, something I’m good at.”

  Kage smirked but didn’t let up. “We’ll see about that. Pair off. Naja, you’re with Zara. Doran, you’re with Malrick.”

  I turned to Naja, who rolled her shoulders and smirked. “Guess it’s you and me, Professor,” she said, her silver-lit hands flexing. I chuckled, knowing she was about to make me work for every block and counter.

  “No magic yet,” Kage warned. “Just focus on movement. Blocking. Countering.”

  The next hour was a blur of sweat, bruises, and frustration. Kage had no mercy, correcting every mistake with sharp words and sharper demonstrations. Naja was deceptively quick, using her smaller frame to duck beneath my strikes, countering with precision that kept me on my toes. I could feel the sting of her hits even through my defenses. “You’re stronger than you look,” I muttered, blocking another one of her jabs.

  She grinned. “You’re slower than you think.”

  Doran and Malrick, meanwhile, were locked in a different kind of struggle. Doran relied on sheer force, using his agility to stay one step ahead, while Malrick hesitated, second-guessing every move. Every time he pulled back instead of committing, Kage’s voice cut through the air like a whip.

  “You think your enemies will hesitate?” Kage barked. “You have to commit, Malrick. If you hold back, you lose. Simple as that.”

  Malrick’s jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, I saw something shift in his expression—determination, maybe even anger. He didn’t flinch the next time Doran came at him. He dodged, then struck back hard enough to make Doran stumble.

  After what felt like hours, Kage finally let up. “Alright. You’ve got the basics. Now, we move onto your real strengths.”

  Magic.

  I inhaled, letting the familiar pull of my necromancy settle in my bones. Placing my hands firmly against the ground, I let my magic seep into the earth, calling to the long-buried remains beneath. The soil trembled, and then, with a deep groan, skeletal hands burst through the dirt, clawing their way to the surface. Three figures emerged, their bones clicking together as they rose, hollow sockets locking onto me in silent obedience. The energy thrummed between us, binding them to my will, ready to act on my command.

  Malrick watched with something between awe and apprehension. “That’s still creepy.”

  Kage instructs me to turn the skeletons on Naja and Doran. He wants to see how well I handle controlling multiple at once.

  I exhaled, focusing on the bond between me and the risen dead. A flick of my wrist sent the first skeleton lurching toward Naja, its bony fingers swiping at her with surprising speed. She dodged effortlessly, her silver-lit hands glowing as she countered, ducking and weaving between its strikes.

  The second skeleton moved toward Doran, who, to his credit, didn’t flinch. Instead, he sidestepped its lunge, pivoting around its attack before throwing a precise punch that knocked it back. The bones rattled but held together, reforming almost instantly.

  Kage’s voice cut through the night. “Keep them moving, Zara. Don’t just command them—control them. You’re not just raising them. You’re leading them.”

  I gritted my teeth and stretched my control further, commanding the third skeleton to move in tandem with the others. They circled Naja and Doran, forcing them to keep adjusting, anticipating where the next strike would land. My magic pulsed in response, the connection growing stronger the longer I held them.

  Naja kept moving, ducking and weaving, but without an offensive way to fight back, she was at a disadvantage. “You know I can’t exactly break these things apart, right?” she called out, breathless.

  Doran, however, had no such issue. His eyes darted around the training area before he lunged for a fallen tree branch. In one smooth motion, he swung it hard, cracking it against the nearest skeleton’s ribcage. The impact sent the bones scattering, but the magic still pulsed, forcing them to twitch and reassemble.

  “Not bad,” Kage muttered, watching Doran take another swing. “But that’s not going to work against anything tougher. We need to get everyone properly armed.”

  He stepped back, arms crossed. “We’ll head into town tomorrow. Get weapons suited to each of you. Because if you think you’re walking into that facility with just your fists, you’re dead before you even get through the door.”

  Kage called for a break, but as the others stepped back to catch their breath, he moved toward Malrick, his expression unreadable.

  “You and me,” Kage said, cracking his knuckles. “Magic only.”

  Malrick hesitated for a second before nodding. “Alright. But… sorry in advance.”

  Before any of us could question what he meant, the air around us shifted. A sharp pull tugged at my veins, and a thin thread of red lifted from my skin, weightless, drifting toward Malrick. My breath hitched as I realized it wasn’t just me—Naja, Doran, and even Kage had tiny streams of blood pulling from them, floating through the air toward Malrick’s outstretched hand.

  He didn’t need to cut. He didn’t need a wound. He just took it.

  The droplets coalesced in his palm, hovering, pulsing in time with his own heartbeat. He clenched his fist, and the blood solidified into sharp, thin needles hovering between his fingers.

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  Kage’s expression remained impassive, but his stance shifted. “That’s new.”

  Malrick swallowed hard, his glowing veins pulsing brighter for a moment. “Figured I should try something different.”

  Kage smirked. “Good. Now show me what else you’ve got.”

  Malrick didn’t hesitate this time. With a flick of his wrist, the blood needles shot toward Kage, swift and precise. Kage barely dodged in time, his shadow twisting unnaturally beneath him as he moved out of their path.

  “Not bad,” Kage muttered, his stance shifting lower. “But blood alone won’t win a fight. Try harder.”

  Malrick narrowed his eyes, exhaling sharply as he pulled back the blood, shaping it into thin, whip-like tendrils. They snapped forward, aiming for Kage’s limbs, trying to ensnare him.

  Kage moved like liquid shadow, stepping through the tendrils as if he saw them coming before Malrick even acted. In a single swift motion, Kage lunged, dispersing into darkness before reappearing behind Malrick, his hand gripping the younger man’s shoulder.

  “You’re predictable,” Kage said, shoving him forward. “Your magic is strong, but you rely on instinct. If I can see your attacks before you commit to them, so can an enemy.”

  Malrick gritted his teeth but nodded. He steadied his breathing, his glowing veins pulsing again. Instead of lashing out immediately, he crouched slightly, waiting. Kage raised an eyebrow, amused.

  “Better,” Kage acknowledged. “Now, let’s see if you can make me bleed.”

  Malrick inhaled sharply, his grip tightening. This time, he didn’t hesitate. The blood tendrils in his hands pulsed, then snapped forward with blinding speed. Kage twisted away, shadows curling around his limbs as he narrowly avoided the attack.

  “You’re fast,” Malrick muttered, adjusting his stance. “But I can keep up.”

  He moved his fingers subtly, and suddenly, tiny droplets of blood flicked outward, scattering through the air like dust. Kage barely had time to react before the droplets hardened into razor-sharp needles and shot toward him from all directions.

  A shadow flickered—a second too slow.

  Kage hissed as one of the needles sliced across his forearm, a thin line of red beading against his skin. Malrick’s eyes widened in surprise, then a slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

  “Looks like I got you.”

  Kage glanced at the wound, then back at Malrick, his smirk matching the younger man’s. “Not bad. But don’t let it go to your head.”

  Malrick didn’t get a chance to respond before Kage blurred forward, his shadow erupting from beneath him like a living force. The darkness swallowed the space between them, forcing Malrick to react on instinct. But this time, he didn’t just pull from himself—he reached out with his magic, drawing on the blood still beading from Kage’s wound.

  Kage’s movements hitched for just a second as the thin stream of red lifted from his arm, bending to Malrick’s will. Malrick flicked his wrist, and the blood solidified midair into a thin, whip-like tendril that snapped toward Kage, forcing him to twist away.

  Kage’s expression darkened slightly, but his smirk remained. “Clever. Using what’s already there. But you’re still too slow.”

  Before Malrick could adjust, Kage moved again, dispersing into darkness before reappearing behind him, his fist already in motion. Malrick barely managed to reinforce his blood barrier before the strike connected, the impact sending him stumbling backward. His veins pulsed erratically now, his magic pushing harder than ever.

  Kage exhaled and straightened. “Alright. That’s enough for today.”

  Malrick blinked, his body still tense, but he nodded, letting the magic recede. The blood tendrils unraveled, droplets falling harmlessly to the ground.

  “You’re improving,” Kage admitted, wiping the thin trail of blood from his arm. “But control is still your weak point. Power means nothing if you burn yourself out before the real fight begins.”

  He studied Malrick for a moment, then added, “You should be pulling more of the blood you use from your opponents, not yourself.”

  Malrick stiffened, his fingers twitching. “I can’t do that. If I take too much, I could kill someone.”

  Kage folded his arms. “And if you take too much from yourself, you’ll be the one who dies. If you’re going to use this power in a fight, you need to find the balance. Take just enough. No more, no less.”

  Malrick swallowed hard, his jaw clenched. “What if I can’t control it?”

  “Then you need to learn,” Kage said firmly. “Before we step into that facility.”

  Malrick rolled his shoulders. “Then let’s keep training. I want to be ready.”

  Kage gave him a long look before nodding. “We all do.”

  The sun was just beginning to rise as we made our way into town, the streets still quiet, save for the occasional merchant setting up their stalls. The weight of our plan lingered over us, but for now, our focus was on one thing—arming ourselves for what was coming.

  Kage led the way, his pace steady, his eyes always scanning. He had taken control of this part of the mission without question, and none of us argued. If anyone knew what weapons we needed, it was him.

  We reached a weaponsmith’s shop tucked between two larger buildings, its entrance marked by an iron-forged sign. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of metal and oil. Racks of swords, daggers, bows, and other tools of war lined the walls. A burly man stood behind the counter, watching us with sharp, assessing eyes.

  Kage turned to face us, his arms crossed. “Alright. We don’t just grab the first thing that looks cool. You need something that works with how you fight. Something that feels right.”

  He pointed at Doran first. “You rely on brute strength and fast reflexes. You need something that takes advantage of that—something with weight but enough flexibility for quick movement.”

  Kage walked over to a rack of weapons, scanning through the heavier options before pulling down a sturdy battle axe with a balanced weight. He turned it in his hands before handing it to Doran. “This suits you. You hit hard, and this will make every strike devastating. It’s got weight, but not enough to slow you down. And if you ever need a secondary option—”

  Kage reached for a short sword and handed it to Doran as well. “Use this as a backup. The axe is great for heavy hits, but you need something faster if things get tight.”

  Doran tested both weapons, swinging the axe with ease before flipping the short sword in his hand. A slow grin spread across his face. “Now this, I can work with.”

  Doran tested the weight, rolling his wrist. He grinned. “I like it.”

  Next, Kage turned to Naja. “You’re not a fighter, but if you have to defend yourself, you need something fast, something that buys you time to get out of danger.”

  He reached for a pair of lightweight daggers, their hilts curved for better grip. “You’re a healer, but that doesn’t mean you have to be defenseless. These will let you strike and move without slowing you down. And if you have to cut someone, make it count.”

  Naja eyed the daggers, hesitating for a second before taking them. “I guess I better learn how to use them fast.”

  Kage smirked before shifting his focus to Malrick. “Your magic is already a weapon. But you need something to channel it, to complement your control over blood.”

  He scanned the room before grabbing a long, thin rapier, its blade sharp but elegant. “This is precise, just like your magic should be. You don’t need brute force—you need accuracy. Use this to strike where it matters.”

  Malrick ran a hand over the hilt, his glowing veins pulsing faintly. “Feels right.”

  Finally, Kage turned to me. “You use the dead to fight for you. You need something that keeps you at a distance but still gives you control.”

  He walked over to a section of polearms and pulled down a blackened steel staff, its weight balanced perfectly between defense and offense. “This gives you reach, lets you keep enemies away while still giving you time to control your army of the dead. And if someone gets too close, you can use it to break bones.”

  I took the staff from him, running my fingers over the cool metal. It felt solid. Right. “Good choice, Detective.”

  Kage smirked. “I know.”

  He grabbed a set of throwing knives for himself, tucking them into his belt alongside his standard blade. “Alright. Gear up. We leave at nightfall.”