We sparred properly then, and Kaan stopped holding back. His shadows moved with a fluidity that came from a millennium of practice — every strike precise, every defense seemingly effortless. He was faster than me, more controlled, and he had centuries of combat experience that I simply couldn't match.
But I was stronger.
I felt it in the way his shadows shuddered when mine connected. In the way he had to brace himself against strikes that should have been easy to deflect. In the surprise that flickered across his face when I broke through his guard for the first time and sent him skidding back three feet across the stone.
"Interesting," Kaan said, brushing dust from his shoulder. He was breathing harder now. "Raw power — you've got more than I expected. More than I had at your stage."
"I had two centuries of suppression building up pressure," I said. "Think of it as compound interest."
He laughed. "Did you just make a financial metaphor about shadow magic?"
"Is it wrong?"
"No, it's annoyingly accurate." He circled me, assessing. "Your problem isn't strength — it's precision. You hit like a collapsing building. Impressive, but you can't collapse a building at a specific person without taking out everything around them."
"I managed fine against assassins that attacked me and Ada a while back."
"You managed. That's not the same as fine." He demonstrated, his shadows shaping into a blade so thin it was nearly invisible. "See this? This could cut a single thread from a tapestry without disturbing the fabric around it. That's control. You're still working with a sledgehammer."
"A sledgehammer that knocked you back three feet."
"Are you going to keep reminding me of that?"
"For the foreseeable future, yes."
"Gods, you really are my brother." Kaan ran a hand through his hair, and I caught the flash of genuine pleasure he tried to hide. "All right, sledgehammer. Let's refine your technique before you accidentally demolish my palace."
For the next hour, he pushed me harder than anyone ever had. Not just physically — he pushed me to open my shadows wider, reach deeper, trust the power instead of wrestling it. Every timeI pulled back, he punished me for it. Every time I overextended, he put me on the ground.
"You're holding too tight," he said after flattening me for the fourth time. "Stop wrestling it and let it breathe."
"Easy for you to say. You've had a thousand years."
"And you've had two hundred years of pent-up power and a bond with the Light God's daughter that makes your magic resonate at a frequency I've never seen." He pulled me to my feet. "Light and shadow aren't opposites — they're complements. Ada's presence doesn't weaken your power, it grounds it. That's why your shadows respond so strongly when she's near. They're trying to protect what you love."
He paused, and the humor left his face entirely. "Erlik would tell you to cut that connection. To consume her light rather than complement it. I'm telling you to embrace it instead. Your bond isn't a weakness — it's your greatest strength. Remember that difference. It's what separates us from him."
"One more exercise." He gestured to the center. "Create a shadow construct that represents something meaningful. Not a weapon. Something that matters."
I closed my eyes. Reached deep. Deeper than I'd gone all day, past the familiar surface into something older, more primal. It felt like diving into dark water — pressure increasing, light dimming, but the power there was immense, ancient, waiting.
When I opened my eyes, the shadow above my palm was a perfect replica of Ada's face — the affection in her eyes, the curve of her smile, the way her hair fell across her face.
"Beautiful," Kaan said quietly. "And exactly what I expected. You're fighting to protect what you love, Hakan. Hold onto that."
He clapped my shoulder. "Rest. Tomorrow we continue. And thank you for trusting me enough to come here."
"Thank you for inviting me."
He headed back toward the palace. I stood alone in the courtyard, catching my breath, the containment runes humming softly around me. My body ached in the good way that comes from hard work, and my mind felt clearer than it had in months.
But underneath the clarity, something stirred.
It was so subtle I almost missed it. A thought that arrived quietly, slipping in between my own like a guest who'd always been there:Kaan is powerful, but he's sentimental. He rejected Erlik because he was too weak to do what was necessary.
I blinked. Where had that come from?
I shook my head. Training had pushed me deeper into my shadow magic than I'd ever gone. The unfamiliar depths were bound to produce strange echoes. That's all it was.