Page 107 of Crown of Ashes and Desire

The question caught me off guard with its naked vulnerability. “You’re…less approachable,” I said diplomatically.

“I am the Shadow Lord,” he replied. “I’m not meant to be ‘approachable.’”

“Perhaps that’s why she’s so drawn to you,” I suggested. “Children are attracted to power and mystery. And you’re certainly both.”

That seemed to mollify him somewhat. His shadows calmed, settling around him like a cloak rather than writhing with agitation.

We followed Kiraz to her “special place”—a clearing at the edge of the village where wildflowers grew in abundance and a tiny stream trickled over smooth stones.

“This is where I practice my magic,” she informed Hakan seriously. “Where no one can see.”

I tensed at her words, at the dangerous territory she was inadvertently approaching.

“Your magic?” Hakan asked, and kneeled to her level with surprising grace for a man of his size. “What kind of magic do you practice here?”

“Both kinds,” Kiraz replied. “My light and my shadows.”

I moved forward, ready to intervene, but Hakan’s next question stopped me.

“Would you show me?” he asked, his voice gentler than I’d heard it in years. “I’ve rarely seen someone with both abilities.”

Kiraz nodded eagerly, pleased by his interest. She held out her small hands, palms up. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with her face scrunched in concentration, golden light bloomed in her left palm while shadows swirled in her right.

“Usually they mix together,” she explained, “but I’m learning to keep them separate when I want to.”

“Impressive control for one so young,” Hakan said, and though his tone remained measured, genuine admiration lay beneath it.

Kiraz beamed at the praise. “Can you teach me to make my shadows do tricks? Like making animals and stuff?”

Hakan glanced at me, silently seeking permission. I hesitated, then nodded. A simple lesson in shadow manipulation seemed harmless enough.

“Very well,” he agreed, and extended his hand where shadows gathered, darker and more substantial than Kiraz’s wispy attempts. “Watch.”

With subtle movements of his fingers, he shaped the darkness into the form of a tiny fox that pranced across his palm.

Kiraz gasped in delight. “It’s like a real animal!”

“Shadow constructs respond to your will,” Hakan explained, his tone serious but not unkind. “They take the shape you imagine, but they require focus and precision.”

For the next half hour, I watched as the Shadow Lord patiently taught my daughter—our daughter—the rudiments ofshadow manipulation. He was demanding but never cruel, exacting but never harsh. It was a side of him I’d glimpsed in our early days together, before everything shattered, but had never expected to see again.

Kiraz proved an apt pupil, her natural affinity for shadow magic evident even with her limited training. By the end of the lesson, she had managed to create a wobbly but recognizable shadow butterfly that fluttered briefly above her palm before dissolving.

“I did it!” she exclaimed, and glanced up at Hakan with naked admiration. “Did you see?”

“Well done,” he acknowledged, and though the praise was restrained, genuine approval gleamed in his eyes.

Kiraz’s attention span, typical for her age, quickly shifted. “I’m going to show Mama my butterfly,” she announced, already turning toward the village. “And get cookies. Magic makes me hungry.”

Before I could stop her, she was running back toward the healing house, leaving me alone with Hakan. The air between us suddenly felt charged, heavy with unspoken questions.

“She has extraordinary potential,” Hakan said, his gaze following Kiraz’s retreating form. “With proper training, she could become more powerful than either of us.”

My heart quickened. “She’s just a child.”

“A child with remarkably familiar shadow magic,” he observed, and turned to face me fully. His eyes, sharp and assessing, missed nothing. “Shadow magic that responds to mine in a way I’ve only seen in those sharing blood ties.”

“Kiraz has unique abilities,” I said. “Even Nadine doesn’t fully understand them.”

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