Aurelia Briarstone traced her fingers through the air, watching dark wisps curl from her palm like smoke. The shadow beast she summoned barely held its shape—more fog than creature. She clenched her jaw and tried again. This time, the darkness formed four legs and a tail before dissolving into nothing. In Breezewood, rival illusionists commanded respect through power, and Aurelia refused to stay invisible any longer. Her workspace held a training dummy she'd built from scrap wood and cloth. She painted its surface black and carved crude features into its face. The dummy stood silent in the corner, waiting. Aurelia pointed at it and pulled shadows from beneath her feet. The darkness wrapped around the dummy's head, then scattered. She needed more control. More strength. Through her window, she could see the arena in the town square. Ancient stones formed its walls, and dark wood beams crossed overhead. A platform stood at its center, carved with designs that caught the moonlight. That's where the real illusionists performed. That's where they earned their reputations. Aurelia watched two figures on the platform conjure beasts that roared and clawed at the air. The crowd below cheered and gasped. She turned back to her dummy and raised both hands. Shadow pooled at her feet, thick and cold. This time she would hold it. This time she would make it real. The arena would see her soon enough, but first she had to master the basics. Her fingers trembled as darkness began to rise.