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Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 134

Chapter 134

Allison

ས རཱ 17%2

The light here never looks like morning. It rises in silver rather than gold, soft and cool, gliding through the tall arched windows until it touches the edges of the room like a hand smoothing silk. The air hums with quiet energy. I breathe in, slow and careful, and the world hums back. Rhaziel is already awake, propped on one elbow beside me. The faint blue of his markings glows like starlight against his skin, shifting each time he breathes. When he notices I’m watching, his mouth curves slightly into the kind of

smile that lives in his eyes before it reaches his lips.

“Good morning, hummingbird.” His voice is rough from sleep, deeper somehow, as if the shadows still cling

to it.

“Morning,” I whisper.

He reaches out and smooths a strand of hair behind my ear, his claws careful against my skin. For a long

moment, he just looks at me like he’s making sure I’m really here, like part of him still expects me to fade

with the dawn.

“Are you well?” he asks quietly. “No pain?”

I shake my head. “No pain.”

He seems to weigh the answer, his gaze lingering on the faint shimmer of sigils along my arms before

finally nodding. “Good.”

We eat breakfast near the window. The table is small, carved from black stone veined with silver, and the dishes steam faintly with something that smells sweet and strange, like burnt sugar and spice. Rhaziel eats little, more interested in watching me than the food, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his cup as if he’s keeping his hands busy to stop from touching me again

“The realm listens to you now,” he says after a while, voice quiet but certain. “Do you feel it?”

I glance toward the edge of the room, where the shadows ripple faintly as if stirred by some invisible

breeze. “I thought that was you.”

He shakes his head. “It is us.”

The air thickens, vibrating with a low, thrumming pulse that isn’t sound but movement that’s alive and

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Chapter 134

heavy. When I lift my hand, the nearest shadow stretches toward my fingers, curls around them like smoke. It doesn’t feel cold or warm. Just…aware.

Rhaziel watches, his eyes a deeper shade of midnight now, the way they get when he’s caught between pride and awe. “Would you like to see what else you are capable of?”

My breath catches. “You mean… train?”

He stands then, the long lines of his body cutting against the pale light. “Learn,” he corrects softly. “There is no training here. Only remembering what was always supposed to be a part of you.”

Outside the castle, the realm opens wide and endlessly. The ground gleams like polished obsidian, each step rippling faint light beneath my feet. The horizon is a swirl of indigo and storm-grey, the kind of sky that never settles into one colour. Wisps of energy float through the air, drawn to the marks on my skin.

Rhaziel gestures to the space around us. “Here, the shadows are not tools,” he says. “They are extensions of will. They answer to emotion, intent and balance.”

I nod, though I’m not sure I understand, and he steps behind me, close enough that his breath brushes my neck. “Close your eyes,” he murmurs.

The world falls silent. I feel the hum of the marks beneath my skin, a steady rhythm that doesn’t belong to my heart but to something deeper. Rhaziel’s hand rests lightly at my waist just anchoring me in the

moment.

“Call to them,” he says. “Not with command. With want”

So I do. I search internally for the will and the shadows stir immediately, a tremor beneath the surface of the world. I don’t push, don’t pull. I just let the feeling grow. It’s small and steady, the same instinct that makes me reach for warmth in the cold. Then the air shifts and something moves. When I open my eyes, the ground around us has changed. Threads of darkness twist up from the surface, slow and elegant, forming patterns that pulse faintly in time with my breath. Rhaziel’s hand tightens slightly against my hip, the only sign that I’ve done something worth noting.

“Good,” he says quietly. “Now breathe.”

I do, and the shadows rise higher. They follow the line of my arms, curl around my wrists and spread like living smoke. I lift my hand, and they move with it, bending the light and reshaping the air.

Rhaziel steps around me, circling until he’s in front of me again. “They mirror your emotion,” he explains. “If you are calm, they are calm. If you are angry-”

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Chapter 134

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He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t have to. The air thickens with an edge, the faintest vibration of threat. My pulse jumps, and the shadows darken instantly, writhing in answer to the thought before I can stop them.

Rhaziel’s eyes catch mine. He doesn’t look afraid. He looks proud. “And if you are afraid?”

“I’m not.”

A slow smile spreads across his mouth. “Good.”

He extends his hand, and I take it. The moment our palms meet, the shadows burst outward, rippling

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