I was still six, and Kristina was seven, but that night felt… different. Like the shadows we thought were pretend weren't really shadows anymore.
Grandma had called us into the kitchen after Mom tucked the younger kids into bed. The lights were low, the smell of cookies lingering like a memory, but something about the way Grandma moved made me stop breathing. She wasn't the usual smiling, wrinkly, "don't burn the house down" Grandma. She was serious. Her hands were folded, and her eyes glimmered in a way that told me she knew something we didn't.
"Sit," she said, pointing to the floor. Kristina flopped down beside me like a tiny commander asserting command over her army. I giggled a little.
"Tonight," Grandma said quietly, "you two are going to learn the truth. About the world. About yourselves. About… power."
Kristina's eyes went wide. "Power?" she whispered, her voice so small it almost didn't sound real.
"Yes," Grandma replied. "Your blood carries a gift. The Bouie bloodline is special. And that gift… has rules."
I blinked. "Rules? I don't even follow my own rules half the time."
Kristina elbowed me lightly, smirking. "You mean you don't try to follow them."
Grandma smiled faintly. "You'll need to. Or the world you play in… will play with you."
That got both of us quiet.
The First Test
Grandma handed us each a small, smooth stone. "These are your anchors," she said. "Hold them. Imagine a place where you feel safe. But remember… what you imagine must obey you. And you must obey it."
I held the stone in my hand. It was cold, heavier than I expected. "Okay… safe place…" I muttered.
Kristina's eyes sparkled. "I'm going to make a castle."
I snorted. "I'm making a fort with secret traps."
Grandma's lips curved into the faintest smile. "Begin."
I closed my eyes and pictured our pillow fort, bigger than before, stronger, with walls so high no shadow could touch us. I imagined it in detail—the blanket flags, the little tunnels Kristina insisted were "secret escape routes," even the stuffed animals we dragged in to protect our kingdom.
Kristina's eyes were closed too, and I could hear her whisper, "No monster will get through here."
At first, nothing happened. Then the air in the room felt… different. Heavier. Softer. Like the walls themselves were listening. The shadows in the corner didn't seem as dark anymore.
I opened my eyes and nearly fell backward. Kristina's pillow fort had… grown. The blanket flags fluttered without wind. The tunnels stretched further than I thought possible. She had actually built it.
I turned to her. "Kris… you did it!"
She smirked, triumphant. "I told you. We're not pretending anymore."
The Lesson of Control
Grandma nodded. "Good. But now… the test begins."
"Test?" I asked nervously.
Kristina gave me a look that said don't be scared, dummy.
Grandma waved her hand toward the wall. The shadows there thickened, twisting into shapes I couldn't name. "These are echoes. Leftovers of fear and failed imagination. They will try to enter your fort. You must stop them. Without touching them. Without yelling."
I swallowed. "How?"
"You will imagine barriers, reshape the space, make them obey you."
Kristina took my hand. "We can do this. Together."
The shadows moved. Slithering along the edges of the wall. One reached toward our fort.
"Now!" Kristina whispered.
I concentrated, imagining a wall of light in front of the blanket fort. My arms shook. The shadows slowed, hesitated… and bounced back, as if hitting invisible force. Kristina's castle walls rose higher, glowing faintly, and the shadows recoiled further.
It wasn't perfect. Some shadows brushed against the blankets, cold as ice on my arms. I yelped, but Kristina whispered, "Control it. Don't let it scare you."
I focused again, imagining the air thickening into a barrier, the walls bending toward me like hands holding us safe. The shadows shrieked—or maybe it was my imagination making sound—and then they pulled back, melting into the corners.
Grandma clapped softly. "Very good. You survived your first real encounter. But remember… shadows are patient. They wait. They watch. And they learn."
Kristina smiled at me. "See? Told you the world was real."
I nodded slowly, still holding the stone tight. "Yeah… real. And scary."
A Little Humor
Kristina rolled her eyes. "You look like a statue, Kristopher. Stop holding the stone like it's going to bite you."
I grumbled, "It might if I let it."
She laughed, a tiny, musical sound that echoed in the kitchen. "Yeah, sure, Knight Kristopher. Whatever helps you sleep tonight."
Grandma shook her head, smiling faintly. "You two have a long journey. Start small. Learn to control, then create. And remember…"
"Yes?" I asked.
She leaned down and whispered, "Even a world of imagination becomes dangerous when you forget love is stronger than fear."
Kristina hugged me tight. "We got this, little brother."
I smiled, squeezed her back, and whispered: "Together."
End of the First Training Night
That night, as Mom tucked us in, I kept my stone under my pillow. Kristina had hers too. We both knew, even at six and seven, that the world we imagined wasn't pretend anymore.
Somewhere out there, shadows waited. But we had something stronger: each other, our bloodline, and the first taste of the power we would need to fight the curse… and eventually, the one who placed it.
And in that quiet kitchen, the Bouie legacy began to truly awaken.