The evening sky was a deep, molten orange as it slipped into purple, the clouds streaked with streaks of gold and crimson. Kristina and I sat by the wide window of our training room, sketchbooks and pencils scattered around us, exhausted but determined. My hands still tingled from the constructs I'd summoned earlier, and Kristina's pencil was smudged with ink where she had drawn creatures to defend us.
"I don't like being watched," Kristina whispered, hugging her knees tightly. Her voice was small, almost afraid.
"Neither do I," I admitted, feeling a chill despite the warmth of the room. "But we have to get stronger… together."
She looked at me, eyes wide, then gave a tiny nod. "Together," she echoed.
Grandma appeared at the windowsill, leaning on her staff. Her silhouette was calm, but the sharp glint in her eyes reminded me why we trusted her guidance. "Your bond is more than love," she said. "It is power. You are not just children learning magic—you are Bouie siblings. Your connection shapes reality. The Bouie Bloodline has always held this ability, and you two… you are next in line to wield it fully."
I swallowed hard, feeling both pride and fear. The weight of that statement pressed down like a mountain on my chest. "But… what if we fail?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Grandma's gaze softened slightly. "Failure is only a teacher. But losing trust in each other… that is dangerous. A weak bond can destroy what you love faster than any shadow ever could."
Kristina leaned over and took my hand. "Kris… we won't fail. We're a team, remember?"
I smiled faintly, squeezing her hand back. "Yeah… a team."
Kristina suddenly grinned mischievously. "You know, I could draw a dragon to scare the shadows."
I raised an eyebrow. "Don't you dare. Last time you drew a 'harmless' creature, it tried to eat the curtains."
She laughed, and for a moment, the tension of the day lifted. The Familiar, perched nearby, hopped onto the table and squeaked, "I volunteer for dragon watch duty! I shall patrol the skies!"
I groaned. "Great. Now we have a dragon and a talking, hyperactive… whatever that is."
Kristina giggled, but Grandma's calm voice cut through the room. "Laughter is important. But remember—it is a tool, not a toy. Your emotions, even joy, can fuel your creations. Use it wisely."
We moved to the center of the room, where Grandma had laid out a circle of glowing symbols. She instructed us to focus, combining imagination and command. Kristina's constructs had grown more complex—tiny beasts, shields, even small bridges she drew to navigate the training floor. I concentrated on shaping larger objects, manipulating their size and motion.
The shadows of Malachor's scouts were still far away, but the room felt alive, almost listening. Every flicker of light, every quiver of energy in our constructs, resonated like a heartbeat.
"Focus, Kristopher," Grandma's voice commanded. "Your mind shapes reality. One false thought… and the consequences could ripple farther than you imagine."
I inhaled deeply and imagined a protective wall around both of us. The barrier shimmered into existence, and the Familiar leapt through it, squeaking in delight. Kristina's wolf-like creature darted along the edges, reinforcing it with her own energy.
"Good," Grandma nodded. "You're beginning to synchronize. Your bond amplifies both of your powers. Remember this moment—it will save you when the darkness comes closer."
Despite the laughter and growing mastery, unease settled in the corners of the room. Kristina twitched slightly, a faint shiver running through her small body. I caught it instantly—something dark, subtle, but unmistakable.
"The curse," I murmured under my breath. Grandma's eyes flicked toward Kristina knowingly but said nothing.
Malachor's presence was never far. Far beyond our home, in his black tower carved from shattered worlds, he watched, patient and calculating. "The girl has potential," he whispered to himself. "But the boy… the boy is a storm yet to awaken. Soon… the game begins in earnest."
Grandma clapped her hands together. "Enough theory. Now, combine your powers. Kristopher, use command; Kristina, use manifestation. Create a construct together—a living bridge to test your coordination."
I concentrated, imagining a long, sturdy bridge stretching across the floor. Kristina drew carefully, her pencil moving almost as if it had a mind of its own. The bridge took shape, glowing with energy, the two halves merging seamlessly.
"Excellent," Grandma said. "You see? Alone, your power is strong. Together, it is unstoppable."
Kristina's eyes sparkled. "Look at it! We did it!" She jumped onto the bridge, and the Familiar followed, squeaking happily as it pranced along the glowing planks.
I laughed, relief washing over me. "Yeah… we did it!"
Grandma's gaze was steady, but a flicker of concern passed over her face. "Enjoy the moment… it will prepare you for what comes next."
The sun set fully, casting shadows across the room. We sat together by the window, sketchbooks in hand. The Familiar curled at our feet, snoring softly. Kristina leaned against me, her small hand holding mine.
"I'm glad it's just us," she whispered. "Even if the world is scary, I know we can handle it."
I hugged her shoulder tightly. "We always will. No matter what."
Outside, the wind carried whispers—soft, ominous, almost alive. Malachor's army was growing, preparing, plotting. The shadows we had seen were only the first wave.
But inside, two siblings dreamed, laughed, and trained. They imagined worlds that could be built… and worlds that could be defended.
And in that moment, I realized: no matter the darkness outside, as long as Kristina and I were together, we were already stronger than anything Malachor could throw at us.
But I also knew, deep down, that the curse had started to stir. The real battle—the one that would test every ounce of our bond, our imagination, and our courage—was still far ahead.
And we would be ready.