My life took a very different turn after that day and fell into a new rhythm which, although slow paced, was very demanding. I spent nearly every waking moment in Coult's company as he began to put me through the rigorous training so many other candidates had failed.

"What happened to them?" I asked one particular day, when my own failure seemed imminent.

"We turned them out into the streets to make their own way," Coult replied, perfectly straight-faced.

Having quickly become accustomed to his wry, sarcastic comments, I ignored this statement and fixed him with a look.

"Really."

He grinned down at me, his teeth seeming very white in the darkness of his face. "Some of them have stayed on but their training has focused more on healing. Many of them are surprisingly good at it, actually. Others have gone back to whatever lives they had before coming here." He shrugged. "I don't bother to keep track. There haven't been many, but I've never spent much time with any of them. Everyone else would have failed weeks ago."

Coult and Lady Anuriel were always making these sorts of comparisons between myself and the unknown students who had preceded me. Usually I let them pass by without a reaction, but on this day I was feeling more insecure than usual.

"Am I really so much better than anyone else, or do you just say such things to encourage me?"

Coult briefly narrowed his dark eyes at me and I repressed a shudder, having been suddenly reminded of what it was like to have him constantly watching me, disapproval etched in every line of his body. Never one to miss much of anything, he considered a moment before speaking.

"Neither Lady Anuriel nor myself have time to coddle poor students along. So long as you're training under me, it means you are exceptional."

I nodded slowly but couldn't help one more question. "And are you so exceptional that your time should only be spent on one or two students at a time?"

All traces of good humor instantly vanished from Coult's face and his lips compressed into a thin line for a moment before he responded, his voice tight. "Yes. And that is all you need to know on the subject.

"Now," he continued rapidly, as though to discourage me from asking any more questions. "I believe we were working on your defenses. Are you ready?"

I stifled a groan, thinking rather sourly that it must be nice to be teaching someone their defenses rather than being the one who had to try to learn them. Coult had been throwing small bursts of shadow magic at me all day and I had rapidly developed a headache.

With a sigh, I started to pull myself together, searching inside myself for the reserves I would need to throw up my wards against magic. Before I was quite prepared however, Coult let loose with another small blast of magic and I was unable to deflect any of it.

The pain was immediate – someone as powerful as Coult would have an instantaneous effect – and I dropped to the ground, cradling my head as though to stave off further blows.

Coult was beside me in the next instant, hovering as though he wanted to do something to help but was restraining himself because he knew there was nothing that could be done.

I was only dimly aware of this as the pain rolled over me in waves for some time before I was last able to lift my head, wincing in the light, tears streaming from my eyes.

"You weren't ready for that," Coult stated calmly, something in his voice sounding to me like an accusation.

"No," I replied, irritated. "I wasn't."

"Care to try again?"

I didn't reply immediately, feeling mute and miserable.

"Maybe this is too much for you," Coult offered next, and now there was resignation in his tone.

I snapped my eyes up to meet his, silver gaze piercing black. "It is not too much for me," I gritted. With an effort born of equal parts fear and determination, I pushed myself to my feet and aggressively thrust my chin out at my teacher.

"I'm ready," I announced. "Try again."

My voice was calm but on the inside I was shaking with a barely suppressed rage. Narrowing my mind down, I could sense Coult quickly drawing another fraction of his shadow magic out of himself and hurling it at me.

Not this time, I thought, pulling darkness up around me like a cloak. I sensed the magic go astray, miss its mark entirely. I hadn't just deflected the bolt, I had dodged it entirely.

Realizing my eyes were closed, I opened them to see Coult staring at me in patent disbelief. "Who taught you how to do that?" he demanded.

Startled, I blinked back at him. "You did."

Could gave a short bark of laughter, not sounding the least bit amused. "I must be exceptional indeed to have taught you something I have never done myself." His voice was mocking and I was not certain whether it was directed at me or at him.

"What did I do?"

"You," he waved his arm in an all-encompassing gesture, "simply faded away. I've never seen the like. Can you do it again?"

"I – I don't know."

"Well, you're going to try," he retorted. "Ready?"

I nodded and he cast more magic at me. I managed to deflect it but apparently did not perform the same trick I had previously.

Coult frowned fiercely at me. "Again."

We spent the rest of that long afternoon in this way, but I was unable to please my teacher with my efforts. When at last he released me for the evening meal, it was with the stern injunction to think about what I had done and to make a better attempt at replicating it the following morning.

How like him, I scoffed to myself as I wearily picked my way through the hearty supper served in a common dining area. I do something he's never seen before but he expects me to do it again within the same afternoon!

Realizing I wasn't hungry, I pushed away from the table and made my way to my tiny cell of a room, there to do as Coult instructed in the hope of pleasing him on the morrow.

But an entire day passed without my accomplishing more than mastering the normal defenses that Coult had been attempting to teach me in the first place. Then a week slipped by and while I could now deflect even the stronger spells Coult sent my way, I was unable to reproduce my disappearing act.

"I suppose it was only a fluke," Coult said at last, disappointment and weariness dripping from every word. "You're sure you don't remember what it is you did?"

"Yes," I said tiredly, turning away from him. "I'm sure."

"Well," he began grudgingly, "I suppose your defenses are at least adequate by now. Tomorrow we'll start working at this the other way. You will attack me and learn how to use your magic apart from your emotions. There are other ways to tap in."

I nodded and then smiled. "That sounds as though it will be far more enjoyable than this past week has been."

Coult reached out and settled a hand on my shoulder. I flinched backwards before I could stop myself and the smile he had been wearing faded away. "It will still be very hard work, Aeri," he told me seriously. "I have had students who were never able to separate the two."

Nodding again, I gave him back his look with a solemn one of my own. "I understand."

"Good." He hesitated and then gave my shoulder a brief squeeze. "I will never hit you again, Aeri."

"I know. It's just – reflex."

"Has anyone else ever hit you?"

"No. Never."

"Then it is a reflex I created, Aeri. And for that, I can never apologize enough."

Coult released me at last and turned away. I watched him go, wordless, but my heart hammering along at a frantic pace. I held a hand over my chest, feeling the agitated patter and then moved that same hand to rest on my left shoulder where Coult's had. Wondering at my own feelings, I stood there for several moments before leaving the empty training room and seeking out the solitude of my cell.

A few days later found my heart nowhere near so kindly inclined to look with favor on Coult. He had been more than correct in his warning that it was difficult to separate my emotions from my magic and I had yet to cast a single bolt of magic at him that hadn't been manufactured out of my own frustration.

We were outside today, facing off in a small garden that the inhabitants of the cathedral used to supplement the food they purchased from the local merchants. It was deserted now, and empty of plant life with the coming of winter. Although the day was fine, I scarcely noticed it or my surroundings, taken up as I was with trying to divorce my shadow magic from my feelings.

"Why is it that I can heal people without drawing on a certain emotion?" I asked after failing yet again.

"What makes you think that you're not?" Coult challenged mildly. "Do you not feel compassion or a fugitive joy when you are able to help someone?"

"Oh." I collapsed onto the ground and took the time to think this over. "I suppose I do."

Coult settled himself on the ground nearby, much to my surprise. Making himself comfortable, as if he intended to spend all day in this informal pose, he asked, "What do you feel is easier for you, Aeri? Healing or pain?"

This was another question that made me stop and think for a moment before answering. On the one hand, I had thought of myself as a healer for so long that it seemed to my greater strength. On the other hand, my shadow abilities, though a recent development, seemed almost to come more naturally to me.

"I think I have worked on healing for much longer," I said at last, half-voicing my thoughts. "But with enough training, I think the shadow magic more closely matches who I am."

"Who you are?"

"Yes. I've always been – let's say discontented – with my situation in life. I was not valued even within my own family and I still resent many things about the way I was raised. I probably always will."

"Tell me about your family," Coult commanded softly.

Feeling a flicker of astonishment at his request, I complied easily nevertheless, giving an abbreviated version of what been, up until now, the story of my life. It was soon told – for it was a monotonous existence I had led, and I thought it best not to delve too deeply into specifics.

Almost as soon as I had finished speaking, Coult had another question for me. "Would you say that you are as angry about those things now as you were before you left?"

I started in immediate surprise, realizing as he spoke the words that my recitation of the events had been almost utterly emotionless. It wasn't very long ago that I would have found myself growing freshly angry to recount all those slights and small abuses.

"No," I said in wonderment. "I'm not."

Coult grinned at me. "I think we have found our starting place. I want you to think about one of your brothers – or your mother, if you choose – and remember a time when they made you absolutely furious. But," he cautioned me, raising a hand in injunction, "don't allow yourself to grow angry. Just try holding the memory in your mind along with the lack of extreme emotion you have now."

Closing my eyes to think, I called up the first memory that came to me. Unfortunately, it was my last encounter with my mother as she accused me from her bed of not healing her out of spite. Flinching away from it, I searched for something else that might have had more time to heal.

"Alright," I said at last. I was remembering a time when I was much younger and two of my brothers had spent the past fifteen minutes pulling my hair and pinching at me. When I had cried in pain and frustration, my mother had come into the room and scolded me for making so much noise. "I think I have it."

"Good," Coult encouraged. "Now, remembering to keep your emotional detachment of today, I want you to pretend that I am whoever is in that memory. See if you can hold all of that in your mind and try to hit me with your magic."

I concentrated fiercely, trying to remember the hurt and subsequent anger I had felt that day, nearly a decade ago. Tempering it with the distance of years and the knowledge that my mother hadn't known what my brothers had been doing to me, I tapped into a reserve I hadn't known I even had and drew forth a small amount of magic.

Gasping in delight, I opened my eyes and beamed over at Coult. "I did it!"

He looked bemused, dark eyes dancing with repressed humor. "Did you? Then how come I haven't been hit with anything?"

I frowned, momentarily deflated. "I forgot that part."

Coult chuckled. "Try again."

Turning again towards my task, with greater determination this time, I went through the process again. It was easier this time. I felt I had a sense of where to search within myself for that dark fountain of magic and since I knew a little better what to expect, I did not falter once I had gathered a small amount. Practically holding my breath, I sent it towards Coult, although I forgot to imagine him as someone else.

"I sensed it that time," my mentor said a moment later, sounding nearly as satisfied as I felt. "Once more and try putting some power behind it. You can't be afraid of hurting me since I will be able to defend myself."

With another deep breath, I tried again and this time I opened my eyes to applause.

That day seemed to mark another turning point for me, for Coult's attitude towards me softened even further and his patience, which had already admittedly been exceptional, seemed limitless. We had many more such conversations as he attempted to teach me all he knew about shadow magic.

I felt despair from time to time, when a particular concept seemed too difficult for me to every fully master, but Coult would keep trying new ways of explaining things until he found one that I could grasp. Much of my learning began to take place through exercises in which I would visualize something and translate that into actions.

"In fact," Coult said to me one day, "you'll want to set a goal for yourself. I don't know if you can think of a picture that encompasses all you'll want to be as a person some day, but if you can find something to strive to grow into and work towards that vision, you'll likely find the rest of your training will go better."

Almost as soon as he said the words, I know in my heart what I wanted to be. I recalled that night after I had argued with Cennerun and stood looking at the vast and fathomless sky. The distances between the stars had seemed so deep and the stars themselves so serene. Fathomless. Deep. Serene. And even beautiful. All things I wanted to be.

I never shared that with Coult although he did ask me a few weeks later whether I had come up with anything.

"Oh, yes."

"What is it?"

"I think I would prefer to keep that private. If that's alright."

"Of course."

Nothing more was ever said on the subject although he must have noticed my growing predilection to wander the grounds near the cathedral at night. There were many times over the years that we found each other out there. Words were never exchanged during these times, or even mentioned again in daylight. We each knew that those times of silent almost-solitude were somehow sacred to the other. But sometimes I couldn't help but wonder what he saw in the night's sky and whether it was all he aspired to be like as well.

I remained at the cathedral for four years, learning and honing my skills. Most of my time was spent with Coult although I sometimes spent a week or two at a time with different instructors who would work on my healing talents. In time, however, it was quite apparent that I had much more affinity for shadow magic.

There was much I learned from Coult as well, the most notable being a shadowy aura that greatly increased my level of power with curses and other shadow magic. It was impossible for me to heal when I was so immersed in my shadow abilities but I loved the thrill of dueling with Coult and nearly overmatching him too much to care.

I look back on those years with a particular fondness that makes every aspect of them seem infinitely precious to me. I was not close to anyone else in the whole cathedral except for Coult. In fact, the pair of us were widely regarded as being too strange to associate with, an impression I only enhanced by purposely skulking about in my shadowform.

Coult, I knew, found great amusement in some of my antics, but he would always relay Lady Anuriel's exhortations to me to try to fit in with the rest of the inhabitants. Whenever this happened I would gravely agree to do better and then continue on however I pleased.

Perhaps the only time Coult found himself less than thrilled with my few pranks was soon after he had taught me how to control another person's mind. This was a skill that took nearly two months for me to master, and it had been a trying process for both teacher and student.

Once I had learned it, I took control of Coult's mind one evening at dinner when the dining hall was crowded and made him dance a silly jig, flapping his arms up and down like a chicken the whole time. No sooner had I released his mind then I felt a familiar fog settle over my own. I walked calmly out of the dining hall and into the nearest empty room, there to receive the scolding of my life. As a punishment, I was not allowed to practice any kind of magic and I was forced to clean the kitchens for a week.

For the sheer amounts of consternation I had seen on Coult's and Lady Anuriel's faces, I counted it well worth it and took particular pains to make certain that Coult knew it. After the sting of public humiliation had gone away, I like to think that even he didn't mind so much.

There were many times over those four years that I took stock of my life and my situation and considered myself blessed. I do believe I would have stayed forever had it not been for two precipitous events that arrived during the spring of my fifth year in the form of a young man I knew.