"You're thinking too much."

I groan through my teeth and loosen my fists. We are making little to no progress. "I'm not trying to think too much," I retort to Citlali. She stands in front of me with a wide stance, rolling her neck back and forth. Mastering her power happened years ago, long before I was born, and she went through the same trials. Now it's my turn, and Citlali is at the helm.

She walks over from where she'd been standing and gestures for me to take a deep breath by mimicking one of her own. Today, her white hair is pulled back into a complicated braid, starting at the base of her scalp and traveling all the way back around to slink out like a tail against her back. If her olive eyes weren't intimidating before, they are now.

"You're thinking too much, I can tell. I know the process of trying to master this power. Trust me, I went through the same thing." Trying to make her voice convey the expression of reassurance, it misses the mark.

I huff a laugh around a frown and regain familiarity with the power underneath my skin. We've been out here for hours now, since the sun rose after Citlali couldn't wait another second to start training with someone that shares an identical struggle with the power of ground. Already, she's managed to construct an entire structure in the shape of a cottage from the ground. The remnants of it are now a pile of loose dirt and rock in the corner of my vision.

In return, my concoction of a cottage was something to the likes of a building that went through terrible destruction. Citlali, trying to crack a joke with Renit standing at my side, said it looked like the buildings after that disastrous night in Arego.

Renit had frowned, shook his head, and told me he'd be at the village when I was ready to come back. He has matters to take care of like training a young witch of storm that can barely handle his power beyond the first spark of lightning. He's afraid of it, and Renit was called in to instruct Alaric with the right training. No witch other than Renit can master that task, not the way he trained my power. Training in the clearing near the castle, exerting myself to exhaustion, doesn't scratch the surface to what I can do.

Looking back towards the village, Renit's smalls storm brews towards the other end. In response, sparks of lightning waver up into the sky but halt in uncertainty. That isn't the power of the banished prince, it's the young boy trying to master something that doesn't fit underneath his skin.

"All you need to do is focus. You're thinking too much about one thing or the next and it's overwhelming your power," Citlali explains. I force myself to nod, my neck moving on its own accord, but Citlali sees right through my false security. "Are you confident in your strengths?"

I can't lie to her. "No, I'm not confident."

"That's the first of your troubles. Get through that confidence and we'll be clear to do whatever you wish with your power."

I scrunch up my nose. "How are we going to do that?"

As if the answer is directly in front of my face, Citlali laughs. "I've never tried it, but there's a drill for two witches of mirroring power. We're identical in strength, so if we send a blast of power at each other, only to meet in the middle, our strength is further realized and our confidence grows."

"That's not true." I immediately shake my head. "Whoever told you that is lying."

Citlali gapes and places her hands on her hips. "Rex Fletcher from Lona taught me that."

"Oh, the human?" I snap. I shove down my need to shiver at the thought of him and his sickly green eyes, the lips that took claim over my own and the hands that explored everything I didn't want him to touch. "He's not a witch, therefore, he knows nothing about your power."

The widening grin that paints a devilish sort of humor on Citlali's face doesn't ease the unsettling in my stomach. She takes two steps back, followed by another two, and then three more to separate us. What is she up to?

"What are—" The ground rumbles and a spiral tears from the surface, leaking in grass roots and loose rock, aiming directly for my exposed body. As quickly as I can, I create a shield of solid ground, circular and thick in its dimensions. Citlali's spiral slams against the other side and my teeth chatter from the vibration.

She's going to kill me.

At least, that's what my mind goes to first. It takes me a second to realize this twisted way of attacking me with her power is also volatile in getting me to listen.

I drop my shield, ready to scream at her, but another blast comes. I twist out of the way and the rumbling mass slithers past, snaking around me. Citlali is guiding it and like a predator stalking prey, her power circles around me and aims for the chest.

Fine. If she wants to play this way, I will, too.

From the surface of the ground, my palm raised towards the sky, I throw up my arm and a tower tall enough to block out the sun shoots from the ground. The world cracks and groans but my creation slams directly into Citlali's snake-like power and cuts it in half, doubling as a shield to keep her from striking me again.

My fingers tingle with the onrush of strength soaring through me. The power of ground twinkles like chimes underneath my skin; I can see clearer; my mind is at ease. This is what I've been looking for. This sense of eruption from the witch inside me. She's needed it for years after so long of hiding; she gets to come out and play.

"Don't leave me hanging!" She shouts from behind.

I turn quicker than she can detect and throw my arms in her direction. Through my power, my hand scoops up two spirals and lunges them at her through the air. Citlali blocks both effortlessly, merely a wave of her hand to create a shield in front of her, wide enough to take down both whip-like structures coming in her direction.

The ground rumbles underneath my boots, coinciding with Citlali's grin. I leap out of the way of the chunk that shoots up from the surface and would have taken me with it if I didn't remember the disaster I nearly put Silas through when Renit was foolish enough to use the next king as bait for my power. If my stress wasn't bad enough, he added that to the mix.

I only have a second to recover. She tries again, again, and again to knock me off my feet but I keep dodging her attacks. I look behind me to watch the ground lift from itself in invisible explosions. That proves to be my downfall.

The front of my body slams into something hard—solid. The air leaves my lungs as I fall back and slam onto the ground, coughing up the tightness in my chest. Citlali snickers, walking up to me and bracing her palms against her knees to bend low and stand over. She blocks out the sun, her olive eyes sparking with entertainment.

"I had to do it," she chuckles and offers down a hand to me. "You were not paying attention at all—"

I throw up a hand and a block of ground comes up with it, slamming directly into her stomach. She grunts as she's thrown back and slammed against the ground a few feet away with her arms pinned.

In defense, the power of ground snakes around her. No defense this time. I want to see how I can stand against my own strengths. Citlali's snake-like whips come at me, one after the other, and I slink to the side, dodging left and right in avoidance of their sharp tips. Sand and rock spray off the sides to convey the absolute destruction of the power of ground. I've never witnessed anything like it.

The ground is my only security when I roll underneath her power, inches away from the sharp vibration migrating through one end to the other. I can't imagine the chaos witnessed by those in Arego. Either they're watching, their mouths open in awe, or they're grimacing at the pure bloodlust leaking from this training session.

I can imagine what my father's expression would be right now. He'd grimace and pull up a lip in distaste. He was a simple man and hated anything that had to do with a volume higher than he can speak. Whether that was because of his power or another reason entirely, I didn't ask. But the smallest hint of my power displaying itself in the world had him conveying an expression of revulsion. Back then, it bothered the hell out of me. To this day, it still does.

I'm successfully dodging her attacks until something shoots up around me, solid walls of stone and rock. I skid to a stop at the one in front of me, aiming to turn back, but another shoots from the ground and blocks my path. Citlali is attempting to trap me within one of her structures. And she does, considering seconds later, the sun is blocked out and I'm left in the dark, panting heavily with sweat dripping down my forehead and stinging my eyes.

The summer air cools inside the dark cage she has enclosed me in. For a second, everything is silent. I'm not plagued by the endless thoughts in my head, I don't worry whether anyone is watching me fail. The only sound is my rasped breaths caused by the sharp rise and fall of my chest. My arms tingle with desire.

Without having to see her, I can tell Citlali is waiting for me to set myself free. She won't do it; that's not why we're out here to train. Slowly, effortlessly, I drift my palms to the dirt and drop to a knee. Placing my palm against the surface, the gentle thrum calls out to me and whispers that the ground is willing to be my captor.

Sand grinds between my teeth and dust clogs my throat. The ground cracks and breaks underneath my palms and I rise up slowly. A solid block of power comes with me. I place my hands on either side and take a deep breath before, with all my strength, I shove out.

The two pillars I've created on either side of my body slam into the sides of Citlali's shield like a battering ram. Bits of stone and rock sprinkle down onto my scalp but I repeat the same process as her structure begins to cave and wobble underneath my force. I'll break through, eventually. With each slam, something loosens in my chest.

I hadn't realized it was tightening, constricting my breathing and living. But with my power, the fear of what the original witches gave me slowly drifts away like sand in the ocean breeze. I won't look back on my father and remember the disappointed shakes of his head, the frown upon realizing I can't do this, and the constant reminder that I couldn't do anything to save them.

As I slam my power into Citlali's, the witch creating more barriers I have to break through before I can see the sun again; I realize my failures don't define me. This power...I can understand it, I can wield it without question, I can ruin the entire world and not look back. This is what my father wanted, not to watch me fail but to watch me thrive and become the destructive witch of ground he always wanted. Today I'll become that.

I shift my tactic. The pillars I've crafted from the ground receive an added touch of hell when spikes crack and sharpen on the outside of the rectangular shape. Citlali's shields don't stand a chance when I slam my power into hers repeatedly, until I'm weak in the knees and can't move beyond shoving my arms in and out, in and out.

Sun splinters through the cracks and a cry of relief breaks loose from my throat. I merge those two pillars together in front of me and from the bottom of the foundation, force up and out. Citlali's shield bursts, stone, and rock splintering and breaking to shed down on top of me. But I made it.

The sun warms my back, blue sky casts over me, and the returning sounds of the ocean settle the rage flowing through my blood. I did it. Even when I thought I couldn't, I did it.

I open my eyes and find Citlali standing a distance away, eyes bright and her smile wide. From that look alone, I know she's not done. And I know what she's trying to do. The final step of this training.

I force myself to stand once more, my legs aching with exhaustion. Allowing my power to swell until I'm suffocating on it, Citlali does the same and at one point, our two powers click together. The power erupts from both of us, aiming directly for each other, and when they slam together as one, the world erupts.

Where the power meets, the ground cracks and splinters. A brutal ringing breaks out through the air and I clamp two hands over my ears to keep from grinding my teeth together.

The ground continues to crack, all the way to the cliffs. I watch that crack in awe until it drops off into the steep ocean below and disappears beyond our recognition. We did that. The two powers of ground did that.

My father's saying was partly true. The only thing worse than one witch of ground is two.