Chapter 9: A Taste of Power

Chapter 9: A Taste of Power

The word echoed in the silent chambers of Seraphina’s mind: Catalyst.

It had changed everything. When she looked at Kaelen Thorne now, she no longer saw the infuriatingly calm Null. She saw the creature from her family’s forbidden codex. She saw a living paradox, a walking, breathing secret that could make her a god or leave her a husk. The Vaduva mandate screamed at her to seize him, to control this phenomenal asset before anyone else discovered what he was. But the memory of his voice pulling her from the depths of her own psyche, of his gentle touch bringing a silence more addictive than any power, warred with centuries of her bloodline’s doctrine.

Her desire was no longer simple. She wanted control, not just over him, but over the terrifying schism he had created within her. This conflict manifested as a tense, predatory watchfulness. She studied his every move, not for weakness, but for some sign of the immense potential lurking beneath his unassuming exterior. Their truce felt like a lie, a flimsy cover for the dangerous game they were now playing, whether he knew the rules or not.

Their forced partnership, once a public spectacle, now drew a different kind of attention. To the student body, Seraphina Vaduva’s continued association with a Null was a sign of weakness, an unforgivable crack in her perfect, tyrannical facade. It was an invitation.

The obstacle presented itself in the grand, vaulted training hall known as the Crucible. They were meant to be practicing basic synergy formations, a laughably simple task. The hall was supposed to be empty, but as the heavy doors boomed shut behind them, three figures stepped out from behind the weapon racks.

At their head was Cassian Sterling, his golden hair gleaming under the high, enchanted lights. His family, House Sterling, were masters of Luxmancy—Light Manipulation—and had been bitter rivals of the Vaduva’s Umbrakinesis for generations. Cassian’s smile was a bright, cruel thing.

“Well, well,” Cassian drawled, his voice echoing in the vast space. “If it isn’t the Queen of Shadows and her pet rock. I’ve been hearing the most fascinating rumours, Vaduva. That you’ve gone soft. That you can’t even handle a simple trial without your little Null holding your hand.”

Seraphina’s eyes narrowed. “Get out of my training hall, Sterling. Or I’ll have your light-flinging lackeys scrape you off the floor.”

“I don’t think so,” Cassian retorted, his own Aura flaring to life—a brilliant, oppressive golden light. His two companions followed suit, their lesser Auras forming a triangulated pattern around Seraphina and Kaelen. “We think it’s time someone reminded you of your place. Aethelgard has no room for a queen who consorts with the powerless.”

Before Seraphina could form a reply, they attacked.

It was a coordinated assault. Cassian unleashed a searing beam of concentrated light directly at her, forcing her to erect a shield of solid shadow. As she did, his companions fired lances of hard light from the flanks, striking not at her, but at the edges of her shield. Her darkness sizzled and recoiled where the light made contact, a weakness she’d always hated. They weren't trying to overwhelm her with brute force; they were methodically pinning her, using their affinity's natural advantage to box her in and dismantle her defenses piece by piece.

She fought back with cold fury, launching tendrils of shadow, but they were swatted away by blasts of light. It was like trying to fight in a floodlight. Her power, usually an oppressive, absolute force, felt sluggish, beleaguered. For every attack she made, she had to expend twice the energy on defense. She was being bled dry, and Cassian’s smug, triumphant face told her he knew it.

Kaelen stood behind her, his back to the wall, watching. He wasn't a combatant; he was baggage, the very weakness they were exploiting. He saw the sweat beading on Seraphina's temple. He saw the slight tremor in the hand holding her shadow shield. He saw her, the apex predator of Aethelgard, being forced to her knees.

He remembered the codex he'd glimpsed over her shoulder in the archive. He hadn't seen the word 'Catalyst', but he'd seen the other phrases. Amplification. Neutralization. He remembered the explosive surge in the Prism trial, an accident born of desperation. He remembered the quiet in the alley, an instinctual act of empathy. He understood now. It wasn't just something that happened around him. It was him. It was a part of him he could control.

He looked at Seraphina, faltering. He looked at Cassian, his face alight with victory. And in that instant, Kaelen Thorne made a choice. He would no longer be a passive element. He would no longer be a victim, a plaything, or a ghost. He would be a weapon.

As Cassian gathered power for what looked to be a final, overwhelming blast, Kaelen moved. He lunged forward, closing the space between him and Seraphina. She flinched, thinking he was getting in the way.

"Kaelen, get back!" she snarled, her concentration fracturing.

He ignored her. His hand shot out and closed over her wrist.

The contact was electric. It was nothing like the gentle, peace-inducing touch in the alley. This was a deliberate act, a circuit being slammed shut. There was intent. There was will. It wasn’t a taking; it was a giving. A floodgate opening deep within him. He felt a silent, roaring torrent of raw potential he never knew he possessed pour out of him and into her.

For Seraphina, the world detonated.

If the first surge had been a lightning strike, this was the birth of a star. Her own darkness, fueled by the raw, untamed potential of the Catalyst, erupted from her. It wasn't just magnified; it was purified, condensed, made absolute. The light-based attacks didn't just fail to penetrate it; they were extinguished, devoured whole by a darkness so profound it seemed to drink the very light from the air.

Her breath hitched in her throat, a choked gasp that was half-pain, half-ecstasy. Her violet eyes began to glow, not with her usual power, but with the black-light of the abyss itself. She felt Kaelen's hand on her wrist, not as an anchor, but as a conduit, a direct line to infinity.

With a scream that was a symphony of triumph and terror, she unleashed it.

She didn't move her hands. She didn't need to. The shadow shield around her exploded outwards. It wasn't a wave of energy; it was a physical wall of solidified night. Cassian's final, brilliant beam of light hit it and vanished without a trace. The wall of darkness slammed into all three of them, tossing them like dolls against the far side of the Crucible. They crumpled to the ground, their Auras snuffed out, groaning in pain and terror.

Seraphina stood in the center of the room, panting heavily. The immense power slowly receded, leaving a humming, thrumming echo in her veins. Kaelen let go of her wrist, and the sudden absence of the connection left them both feeling hollowed out, exposed.

The hall was silent, save for their own ragged breaths and the whimpers of House Sterling's heirs. Cassian, clutching a broken arm, stared at her with wide, terrified eyes. This hadn’t been a duel. It had been an execution. He and his friends scrambled to their feet and fled, not with anger, but with the primal fear of having witnessed something unholy.

Seraphina and Kaelen were left alone in the wreckage. A heady, intoxicating energy still crackled in the air between them. Her face was flushed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She looked at Kaelen, her expression a maelstrom of shock, awe, and a new, frightening dependency.

He met her gaze, his own breathing unsteady. He had done that. He had chosen to do that. He was not powerless.

They were bound now, not just by a shared secret about the past, but by a shared act of impossible power in the present. The experience was raw, intimate, a taste of godhood they had created together. It left them both breathless, hungry, and terrified of the terrifying potential that now lay, quite literally, in their hands. The Vaduva legacy could command her to be his hunter, but in that moment, she knew with terrifying certainty that she was already his addict.