Echoes under the Moonlight

Morning arrived with a gentle slowness, the golden rays of the sun sneaking through the thick forest canopy, casting dappled light over the earth. Ava awoke to the refreshing scent of pine and damp soil, a cool breeze brushing against her skin. For a moment, she didn't remember where she was. The unfamiliar surroundings and the soft murmur of the forest disoriented her. The soreness in her muscles quickly reminded her of everything that had happened.

Lucien sat across from her, focused on sharpening a dagger against a rough stone. The rhythmic scrape of metal against stone was steady, like a heartbeat, calming and unnerving at once. He didn't look up, but his voice broke the silence.

"You slept longer than I thought," he said, his tone neutral.

Ava rubbed her eyes, the morning light stinging her pupils, and sat up, wincing slightly as her body protested the motion. "I was really tired," she muttered, stretching stiffly. "Did anything happen?"

"No," Lucien answered without looking at her, his attention still fixed on the blade. "But we don't have much time. We need to start your training."

Ava froze. The word hung in the air like a weight she wasn't prepared to carry. "Training?" she repeated, her voice shaky. "What does that mean?"

Lucien finally set the dagger down and met her gaze. His eyes were intense, the seriousness of his expression enough to make her feel small. "You need to learn to control the power inside you," he said evenly. "If you don't, it could destroy you, or worse, be used against you."

Ava's wrist tingled, as though the mark she bore was waking up with her, sensing the shift in the air. "But I don't even know what it is. How can I control something I don't understand?"

Lucien's gaze softened slightly. He held out his hand, the action almost patient, like he was extending a lifeline. "That's why I'm here. I'll teach you."

Ava hesitated. She wanted to pull away, to question more, but something in Lucien's calm demeanor made her trust him, even just a little. Reluctantly, she placed her hand in his, feeling the warmth that seemed to radiate from him, reassuring her in ways she didn't understand. He helped her to her feet, his grip firm but gentle.

For a moment, their eyes locked. There was something in his gaze—a flicker of something unspoken, a spark that startled her. Ava looked away first, feeling a strange flutter in her chest.

"Come," Lucien said, his voice low. "Let's begin."

Ava followed him into the clearing, her heart thudding in her chest. She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready for any of this. But she didn't have a choice.

Lucien stopped in the center of the clearing, and Ava obediently stood across from him. "The first lesson is simple," he said, crossing his arms and studying her. "Focus."

Ava raised an eyebrow. "Focus? That's it?"

Lucien smirked. "If it were that easy, you wouldn't need me." He paused, his expression growing more serious. "Close your eyes."

Ava let out a soft sigh and did as he instructed. Almost immediately, the sounds of the forest sharpened—each rustle of leaves, each chirp of a bird, the gentle whisper of the wind. The world seemed to narrow, and her heartbeat was the loudest sound in her ears.

"Breathe," Lucien's voice came again, calm and steady. "Feel the ground beneath you. Feel the air around you. Let everything fade away until there's only you, and the mark."

Ava focused on the sensation of her feet pressing into the soft earth, the air cool against her skin, but her mind kept racing. How was she supposed to feel something she couldn't understand? The mark on her wrist was just a symbol. Nothing special.

"I can't," she muttered, opening her eyes in frustration. "This is stupid."

Lucien didn't react to her outburst. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "You're overthinking it. Stop trying so hard."

She glared at him, feeling the sting of failure already. "Easier said than done."

Lucien stepped a little closer, his presence overwhelming. "You're scared, Ava. I understand that. But fear can only control you if you let it."

Her chest tightened at his words. "I'm not scared," she retorted, but her voice wavered, betraying her.

Lucien's gaze softened. "Then prove it."

There was a challenge in his tone, a spark of something that ignited something deep within her. Ava clenched her fists, determination setting her spine straight. She closed her eyes again, took a deep breath, and let the air fill her lungs, steadying herself.

This time, she focused—not on the mark, but on the feeling of control. The world quieted around her, and she sought that warmth. At first, there was nothing but silence. Then, like the faintest whisper, she felt it—a warmth in her wrist, like embers beneath the surface.

"I feel it," she whispered, her voice full of surprise.

"Good," Lucien said, now standing much closer, his eyes intent on her. "Hold onto it."

The warmth grew, spreading through her arm like liquid fire. It was not painful, but intense, and Ava found herself panicking. What if it consumed her? What if it was too much?

"Stay calm," Lucien urged, his hands now gently resting on her shoulders. "Don't fight it. Let it flow."

Ava's breathing quickened. "It's too much," she gasped, her heart racing. "I can't—"

"Yes, you can," Lucien's voice was firm, unwavering. "You're in control, not the power. Remember that."

His words grounded her, and she focused, not on the intensity of the heat, but on the calm steadiness of his presence. Gradually, the warmth settled, finding a rhythm in her chest, like a second heartbeat. With it came a sense of peace, a balance she hadn't expected.

When she opened her eyes, the mark on her wrist glowed softly, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. Ava stared at it, her mouth dry with amazement.

"I did it," she whispered, disbelief creeping into her voice.

Lucien's lips curved into a rare smile. "You did."

But before she could process what had just happened, the peaceful moment was shattered by a rustling noise. Lucien's smile disappeared, replaced by a hardened expression. He moved in front of her without a word, his hand going to the dagger at his waist.

Ava's heart skipped a beat, her body tensing with fear. She instinctively took a step back, her mark still glowing faintly.

"What is it?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lucien's gaze never wavered from the trees. "I don't know," he replied. "But it's not friendly."

A shadowy figure stepped into the clearing, tall and menacing. His eyes gleamed with malice, and Ava's breath caught in her throat. It was him. The hunter from before—the one who had almost killed them.

"Well, well," the hunter said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Look who's trying to play hero."

Lucien's grip on his dagger tightened, his stance unwavering. "You made a mistake coming here," he warned, his voice cold.

The hunter chuckled darkly, undeterred. "Oh, I don't think so. I've been watching you. And now…" He turned his gaze toward Ava, his grin widening. "Now I have what I want."

Ava felt a chill run through her veins, her pulse quickening with fear. She glanced at Lucien. "What do we do?" she whispered urgently.

Lucien's eyes were locked on the hunter, calculating. "We fight."

And with that, the battle began.