ShadowBound: The Need For Power

Asher waited for a moment outside his father's study, jaw tight and fists still clenched. He felt like punching the non living hell out of the walls but honestly, he couldn't. He exhaled through his nose, trying to steady himself, when a familiar presence pulled his focus.

His mother, Lady Afina, approached the corridor with her usual quiet grace. Her snow-white hair, long and flowing like freshly fallen silk, shimmered under the golden sconces lining the walls. Her silver eyes locked onto his with immediate concern.

At once, Asher's fury dulled. His expression neutralized, masking the storm that churned beneath. He didn't want to worry her.

Afina stopped in front of him and reached up, gently caressing his face with soft, slender fingers. Her touch had always calmed him, as if her magic wasn't of the arcane, but of the soul.

"I'll talk to him," she said softly, her voice like a lullaby.

Asher didn't respond—he couldn't—but he leaned slightly into her touch, grateful for it.

Afina smiled faintly and pressed a warm kiss to his forehead. Then, with the elegance only she possessed, she turned and entered the study, the door closing behind her with a muted click.

Asher stood there a moment longer before heading down the hall to his room.

Once inside, he let the weight hit him fully. He paced for a few moments, trying to calm his racing thoughts. His gaze landed on a porcelain vase perched on the edge of his shelf—a gift from some distant noble his father wanted to impress. Useless.

He reached for it with a sudden, furious motion, but before he could make the decision to shatter it, a voice interrupted him.

"I'd think twice if I were you, dear brother. Lydia really liked that vase. Said it brought 'refined balance' to your barbaric cave."

Asher turned his head, the tension still crackling in his muscles.

There, sitting on the wide window sill, was Nila.

She had a book resting in her lap, one leg folded beneath her while the other dangled loosely. Her long silver eyes—identical to their mother's—sparkled with amusement. Her white shirt was neatly tucked into sleek black leggings, boots laced up to mid-calf. Her dark silver hair was tied back in a ponytail, a few strands hanging near her face.

She smirked at him, tilting her head slightly. "Go ahead. Break it. I'm sure Lydia will forgive you… eventually."

Asher rolled his eyes, setting the vase back down with more force than necessary. "Do you ever knock?"

Nila shrugged, closing her book with one hand. "Where's the fun in that?"

He muttered something under his breath and flopped onto his bed, rubbing his face.

Nila stood, walking over with an exaggerated sigh. "So… father still being a soul-sucking tyrant, or did he finally ask you to sign a blood contract?"

Asher let out a tired scoff, voice muffled. "Same old. But now with a ticking clock."

She paused beside his bed, resting her hip against the frame, crossing her arms. "He's giving you three days, isn't he?"

He looked up at her, slightly surprised. "How'd you know?"

She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes this time. "Because that's how long he gave me when I refused to join the diplomatic corps. Spoiler alert: I still didn't join."

Asher blinked. "What did you do?"

"I went riding for two days, came back on the third, and told him no again." Her smile widened, this time mischievous. "Then I smashed his favorite wine cabinet. Thought you'd appreciate the symbolism."

That actually got a faint laugh out of Asher.

Nila leaned down and ruffled his hair. "You're not alone in this, Ash. No matter what he says."

He looked at her, genuinely thankful, but said nothing.

She turned and walked back toward the window. "Also—just saying—if you do break that vase, aim for the corner. Better acoustics."

Asher chuckled softly, shaking his head.

Nila watched him for a moment, her expression thoughtful before her tone shifted, casual but edged with curiosity.

"So… what did he want this time?"

Asher's jaw clenched again at the reminder. "He found out Galen chose me. Me and some other guy. Apparently, that makes me a disgrace to the family." His voice dripped with bitterness. "Said it's 'stained the Hawthorne name.'"

Nila raised an eyebrow. "Because of Galen Magna?"

"Yeah." He sat up, his irritation rising again now that he had to explain it out loud. "Called him a prodigal son like it's some curse. Told me associating with him was forbidden, even if he's the strongest knight of his generation. Said I have three days to give him an answer. Whether I'll cut ties."

She blinked, unimpressed. "Okay… then just say no."

Asher snorted, shaking his head. "He doesn't take no from me, Nila. He might let you say no and still sleep at night, but me? I don't get that option."

Nila crossed her arms. "Oh, come on. You're making him sound like some tyrant from a tragedy."

"He is," Asher muttered. "To me, at least."

A knowing smile pulled at Nila's lips. She strolled over and plopped onto his bed without invitation, patting her lap. "C'mere, dumbass."

He hesitated, but after a sigh, he lay down and rested his head in her lap. Her hand immediately found his hair, fingers gently stroking through the snowy strands.

"You know," she said after a moment, her tone teasing, "I always knew you were stupid, but I didn't realize this stupid."

He groaned. "Thanks, Nila. That really helps."

She chuckled. "Shut up. I'm trying to be wise for once."

Asher closed his eyes, letting her continue.

"You have something he can't ignore, Ash. Your flames." She tapped his forehead gently. "Blue flames. The Hawthorne heritage. He worships that bloodline garbage more than he worships the actual gods."

Asher frowned, silent.

"So use it," she said simply. "Use the one thing he values more than himself. He sees those flames as proof that you're the legacy. The heir. He can't disown that, no matter how much of a control freak he is."

He opened his eyes slowly, glancing up at her. "And what? Threaten to leave?"

Nila rolled her eyes. "No, idiot. Don't go all dramatic with a 'accept me or I disown myself' speech. That's just dumb. We both know he'd rather kill you than let you walk out the door with his legacy."

"...Fair point."

"Just show him that you are the future of this family whether he likes it or not. He can either support you, or look like a fool trying to fight against the one person who carries the fire."

Asher was quiet again, her fingers still threading through his hair.

"I don't want to play his game, Nila," he murmured.

"Then rig it," she said, firm and steady. "Stack the deck in your favor. You're a Hawthorne, remember? We don't break—we burn."

That made him smile a little before he let out a low chuckle, eyes still half-lidded as he rested in his sister's lap. "You've been stroking my hair like a doting wife for the past five minutes," he teased, a smirk creeping up on his lips. "Don't tell me you finally got yourself a boyfriend or something."

Nila's hand froze for a moment before a smack landed on the side of his head.

"Idiot," she said, rolling her eyes. "The last thing I need right now is a boyfriend."

"Ah, so there is someone," Asher said with mock suspicion, grinning.

"There is no one," she huffed. "I finish my third year at the Crimson Knight Academy in just a few months. And once that's over, I'm focusing entirely on my application for the Solara Queen's Special Corps. I don't have time for boys, dates, or anything remotely soft."

"That speech sounded a little too rehearsed," Asher replied, raising an eyebrow. "You sure you're not deflecting?"

She gave his hair a tug, making him wince.

"Okay, okay, sheesh—tough crowd."

But as her words settled, Asher blinked. "Wait a minute… if you're this close to graduation, shouldn't you be at the Academy right now?"

Nila leaned back against the headboard with a nonchalant shrug. "I got a three-day leave."

His brow furrowed. "For what?"

She gave him a sly smile. "Something."

"Something? What kind of 'something'?"

"A private something," she said smugly, turning her gaze out the window.

Asher sat up, his curiosity now fully piqued. "You're hiding something."

"I'm not hiding anything," she said sweetly. "I'm just choosing not to share."

"Same thing," he said, grabbing a pillow. "Alright, spill it."

"Nope."

Asher lunged playfully, trying to wrestle the truth out of her. "You're gonna tell me one way or another, Nila. You know I'm annoying enough to make this painful."

Nila laughed, dodging and pushing him back with a knee. "Touch me again and I'll burn your eyebrows off in your sleep."

"That's a sibling war declaration."

"So declare it."

"Fine," he grinned, "you brought this on yourself."