OLAMILEKAN:
I lay on my bed that night, exhaustion settling deep into my bones. Temi really stressed me out today, I thought, letting out a tired sigh. My mind drifted, unbidden, back to the mission in New Dakar—the battles, the losses, the power that nearly consumed me.
I pushed the thoughts away, but they lingered like shadows at the edge of my consciousness. Slowly, my eyelids grew heavy, and within minutes, sleep claimed me.
And then, I was there again—back in the past, reliving the special training Joshua and I endured.
----
The heavy steel doors loomed before us, an unspoken warning of what lay beyond. I stood beside Joshua, feeling the weight of what was to come. This wasn't just another mission, another battle. This was the beginning of something far worse.
"You ready for this?" Joshua asked, his voice quiet yet firm.
I took a breath, steadying myself. "As ready as I can be."
We had called our mother and Temi before heading in. Mom had tried to sound supportive, but I could hear the worry beneath her words. She didn't want this for us, but she knew we had no choice. Temi, on the other hand, had laughed it off, telling me to try not to get killed. Typical her. But I could tell she was concerned too.
The doors slid open, revealing a massive training facility, cold and unwelcoming. Soldiers and instructors lined the edges, their gazes sharp, assessing. At the center stood Frederick Robertson, the man responsible for shaping—or breaking—us.
"Welcome to your first real test," he announced, his voice echoing through the chamber. "Over the next few months, you will be stripped of weakness, molded into something greater. If you fail, you won't leave here the same. If you survive, you will be stronger than ever before."
Joshua scoffed. "Motivating."
Robertson ignored him. "Let's begin."
---
The first few weeks were relentless. We were pushed past our limits, forced to endure grueling physical conditioning and brutal combat training. Every day, we fought against instructors who had decades of experience, and every day, we lost.
I struggled the most—not physically, but with my magic. My light magic was unstable, erratic. Whenever I tried to summon it, it would either fizzle out or explode beyond my control. I was a liability, not an asset.
"Focus, Ola!" Captain Graves barked as I stood in the middle of the training ring, my breathing ragged. "You can't just brute-force it! Control it!"
I clenched my fists, frustration boiling inside me. "I'm trying!"
"Trying isn't enough."
I grit my teeth and extended my hand, calling forth my light magic. A golden glow flickered at my fingertips, swirling chaotically. I aimed at the target in front of me, but just as I released the energy, it veered off course, exploding against the far wall instead.
"Damn it!" I hissed.
Joshua, watching from the sidelines, frowned. "You're pushing too hard. Light isn't about force, Ola. It's about control."
"Easy for you to say," I muttered. Joshua had already mastered his shadows. I was the one lagging behind.
That night, I barely slept. The words of my instructors echoed in my mind. Control. Control. But how?
The answer came in the most unexpected way.
---
The next day, our training shifted. Instead of combat, we were taken to a chamber filled with floating orbs of light. "These are attunement spheres," our instructor explained. "They will react to your energy, reflecting the state of your magic. If you cannot control them, you cannot control yourself."
I reached out hesitantly, touching one of the spheres. Instantly, it flared brightly before shattering into fragments. The instructor sighed. "Too much force. Again."
Over and over, I tried. Over and over, I failed. Each time, my magic reacted violently, either shattering the sphere or causing it to dim completely. Hours passed, and my frustration mounted.
"You're thinking too much," Joshua said, stepping beside me. "Stop trying to force it. Just feel it."
I scowled. "Feel it? That's your advice?"
"Yes. Close your eyes. Breathe. Stop trying to control it like it's a weapon. It's a part of you. Let it flow."
I hesitated, then did as he said. I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, and let go of the tension in my body. I reached out, not with force, but with intent. The light responded, swirling gently around my fingers, not resisting, not exploding—just existing.
When I opened my eyes, the sphere was glowing steadily in my palm.
The instructor nodded. "Finally."
From that moment on, everything changed. My light magic became an extension of myself. I learned to shape it, direct it, wield it with precision instead of brute force. My losses in combat lessened. My victories increased.
But even as I grew stronger, a feeling lingered at the back of my mind—an unease, a whisper of something deeper, something waiting.
I didn't understand it then.
But I would soon.
----
I woke up feeling refreshed, a rare sensation these days. A small smile tugged at my lips as I stretched, pushing away the lingering haze of sleep.
After a quick shower, I got dressed and made my way to the living room, where my mother, father, and Joshua sat, deep in discussion. Their conversation quieted as I entered, their eyes subtly scanning me.
"Good morning," I greeted, nodding at them before heading toward the front door. I could feel their gazes lingering—watching me with a mix of surprise and something else. Worry, maybe? It was as if they had expected to see the distant, withdrawn version of me that had emerged after the mission. But today, I felt... lighter. More like myself.
Just as I reached for the door handle, my father's voice stopped me.
"Young man, where are you off to?"
I turned back, scratching the back of my head. "Uh... I have plans... with Temi. I'll be back by nine."
Before they could say anything else, I slipped out the door, leaving their lingering stares behind.