Seraphine gasped softly, her fingers still tingling from the tiny tug of the cup’s shadow. She hadn’t expected to manage even a fraction of what Edmund had shown her. The shadow hadn’t moved far, barely a whisper of motion, but it had responded to her will. A flutter of triumph mixed with disbelief in her chest, and her pulse thrummed with both excitement and nerves. She couldn't help but smile ear to ear.
She leaned back slightly, staring at her hand as if seeing it for the first time. The sensation of control, or the illusion of it, was electrifying. Her arm ached faintly, and a warm pulse reminded her of the small cost she’d already paid. Yet, beneath the ache, a spark of confidence had taken root. She could do this. She could learn.
(I really did it… It moved. I actually made it move!)
Edmund’s eyes gleamed. "Excellent. That's the start. You felt how it pulls, didn't you?”
“Yes. It felt strange. As if my arm fell asleep and it was quickly recovering, it felt slightly numb at first and quite tingly.”
“That is the blood cost. Don't worry, it will feel less strange the more you practice. This spell only takes a single drop from within you, which is why moderation is so important.”
He paused, tilting his head slightly as he studied her. “Now… before we continue shadow control, there is something more advanced you must understand. You need to know the rules before you ever try it.”
Seraphine leaned forward on her seat again, as if she could catch the next words before they escaped him. Her fingers itched toward the table, eyes wide, holding her breath. She felt she knew what he was about to say, but she wanted to hear it from his own mouth. The magic that she had been longing to learn.
Edmund’s lips curved in a faint, teasing smile. “Summoning.”
Her eyes widened, and she whispered the word back, almost tasting it. “Summoning.”
(This is what I’ve been waiting for! Something I’m supposed to specialize in.)
“Yes, but only the theory for now.” Edmund reached for a book with a dark cover. “Summoning requires more blood as sacrifice. The du Fane family does not use the corrupted method. No sacrifices of others, only ourselves. The corrupt path weakens your soul and attracts things you never want near you.”
He opened the book to a page marked by a ribbon. The diagram sprawled across the parchment. Multiple concentric rings formed a thick border, and at the very top of the outermost ring sat a small crescent moon. At the center, a six-pointed star had been drawn, two triangles interlocking neatly. Right in the middle of the star was a simple, empty circle, dark and still, like a tiny void. Certainly space for whatever creature may come forth.
“This circle is the foundation. Drawing it requires your blood. If the design is more complex, you can summon higher beings. This is, however, the base, so be sure to practice that. For this magic circle, only temporary summons can be called forth, low-tier creatures like Wisps.”
Edmund turned the pages slowly, one by one, letting Seraphine study each design. With every turn, the circles grew more intricate, their patterns twisting and interlocking in ways that made her eyes widen with fascination. “These are circles for mid- and higher-tier creatures,” he explained calmly. “You only need to draw the circle once if you are satisfied with the being that answers. After that, the contract leaves a mark on your skin.”
“It marks my skin?”
“Yes, according to the books, it will leave a black shadow on your skin, like ink drawn on paper. Only you can see it, so don't worry about hiding it. When you summon that creature again, the mark will glow red as if alive. It will move along your skin until it reaches a place to break through, then take physical form.”
Seraphine stared at him, rubbing her arm as if soothing an ache that wasn’t there. “That sounds painful.”
“It is.” His voice held no apology. “But the power you gain is significant. Which is why we do not rush toward summoning. And do not form contracts more than you can handle, at most two. It draws heavily on your blood each time you call it.”
He closed the book softly.
“For now, you will practice that small movement again. Pull the shadow toward you, then let it settle back. Think of it like breathing. Once you've controlled Shadow Control, we will move to the next step.”
Seraphine nodded and lifted her hand again, heart thrumming.
Edmund leaned back and watched her with quiet pride. “Good. Remember, ease into it. After that, you can practice drawing the magic circle with ink, not blood. Draw it till you get it perfect. If you can draw the foundation perfectly, try drawing it with ink on your finger. You can wear a glove for that. When you can do that flawlessly, you’ll be ready to move on to something more advanced, like actually calling forth a summon.”
He pushed the book with the dark cover gently toward Seraphine. “You can take this with you and practice whenever you have time. Study it thoroughly. Maybe with enough knowledge and practice, you can even design your own magic circles.”
Seraphine reached out eagerly, her fingers brushing against the dark leather cover as she accepted the book.
“Thank you, father,” she whispered, her voice soft but full of warmth.
She held it close for a moment, inhaling the faint scent of old parchment and ink. Her eyes sparkled, the edges of her lips curling into a small, almost mischievous smile. She traced the embossed designs with her fingertips, imagining the magic she could call forth one day.
(I wonder what kind of creature I will be able to summon.)
Her pulse quickened at the thought, and she hugged the book to her chest, already planning the day she’d finally perform a summon herself. Each heartbeat seemed to echo the possibilities, and she barely noticed the room around her, lost in the thrill of what was to come.
A week has passed by since Seraphine's first lesson of Shadow Control. She practiced in the training yard with Lucien until the shadows grew long. She managed to stretch her own shadow no farther than the length of her hand, maybe the size of an apple, but it still drained her. She decided she needed to split her time more evenly between magic and sword practice, even if it exhausted her. She headed back inside, tired but determined. Each day she saw some progress, if not for the shadow control, then with her drawing the magic circle. Not to mention her stamina increased and she got better at swordplay. That gave her hope and determination.
Just as she reached her bedchamber, she saw Alisea was waiting in front of her door.
Alisea approached with a small curtsy. “My lady, a letter has arrived. It bears the Rosenthal crest.”
(Rosenthal? Who was that again?)
Seraphine accepted it. The red wax seal was smooth, the rose imprint pressed clean and deep right in the center. She held her breath as she broke it open and slid the letter out. A pinch of guilt stirred in her chest once she saw the name.
She had totally forgotten about her these past days… and now she stared at the letter anxiously. She gulped and began reading the letter.
Evelina’s letter.
My dearest Sera,
I hope this reaches you in good health. I have heard so many things these past days, yet none of them were from you. I tried not to mind, but I admit it has been difficult. Word reached me about your mother’s safe delivery, and I was relieved, but I wish I had known from you. It felt strange to hear others speak of matters so close to your heart while I remained waiting for a single line from your hand.
I also heard that Lord Lucien has stayed by your side, longer than I expected. You once reassured me on the night of the ball that he would only bring you home and leave. I thought of that moment often. I wondered if perhaps I had misunderstood something. I didn't want to believe you deliberately pushed me away. Or that I had simply been forgotten for a while. I wholeheartedly believe our friendship is stronger than that.
Please forgive me if I am being foolish. I know you must be tired, and I can imagine you have other matters to attend to. I’m sure you had your reasons for delaying any news and my worries had just been foolish whispers. But I worry all the same. I worry that I did something wrong. If I have upset you without realizing it, I am truly sorry.
I miss you so very much. I will visit tomorrow. Even if only for a short while, I wish to see you with my own eyes and hear from your own lips that all is well. Or at least, that I have not lost my place at your side.
Yours, always,
Evelina Rosenthal
Seraphine lowered the letter slowly, her gaze still fixed on the words ‘ I will visit tomorrow ’. The room felt cold, too cold.
(What am I supposed to do? How do I act towards her? This is too soon!)
Her fingers curled around the page before she even noticed. Anxiety prickled through her, cold and sharp. Tomorrow, Evelina would come, and she felt utterly unprepared. She forced herself to flatten the letter, but her hands shook despite her effort.
(Please… please , let her not notice.)