That evening, the Academy hall was hushed, with the bustle of the daytime replaced by the soft whispering of papers and laughter drifting from remote dormitories. Lucian Vale stood at the edge of the library, his eyes on the shelves of ancient volumes and the soft glows of enchanted lanterns. Yet he was not thinking about schoolwork that evening. His thoughts were on the shadows that clung to him, tiny threads of shadow that lived and pulsed with response to his thoughts and emotions.
It had been a long day of observation and careful interactions with Seraphine. Nevertheless, as he made his return to the dorms, Lucian recognized that it would be within the powers of the night that he might truly begin. Alone and unobserved, he might investigate these abilities he had brought with him from his previous life. Abilities which might attract hostile notice if shown too soon.
He raised a hand, and shadows swirled around his fingers. They murmured and shifted, favoring his pulse and his will. A small shadowy fox appeared and snuffed and disappeared with a flicker on the highly polished floor. Lucian's mouth smiled with pleasure. It still works. It still responds. It still belongs.
But amidst all the silence, he couldn't help but have a longing for Seraphine. The laughter he witnessed before still lingered in his thoughts, a beacon of brightness amidst all the dark places. His previous life haunted him—he recalled all those moments he had let her down, the moments he had seen her drift away. It was all a mix of guilt and determination. I won't let her down again.
Lucian stretched his fingers, and shadows began to writhe and twist around him with greater precision. Lucian began to practice manipulating basic weapons – swords of shadows that emitted a soft hum as they pulsed with energy, and shields that deflected light. All these were done with careful calculation, as he sought a perfect harmony between control and chaos. Shadows, he recalled, were an extension of will and emotion.
A faint groaning sound from the library floor made him jump. Lucian stood still, his senses heightened as the shadows danced around him in reaction to the presence of sound. He let out a breath as he recognized it as no more than a rat crossing the floor, just a blip. It served as a reminder, nonetheless, that stealth was necessary. There were academy rules against working shadows overtly, strict magical codes against abuse by academy members. Any hint of abilities elsewhere would attract notice—and Lucian couldn't have that.
As he experimented with creating more intricate shapes with shadows, Lucian's mind wandered back to the events that had transpired before. Specifically, he thought about his competition with Rylan Cross. The academy's rising young talent had been surprisingly interested, his intense gaze following Lucian throughout combat and academic activities. Lucian had sensed the challenge laced beneath Rylan's confidence and curiosity: a rival who would oppose Lucian beyond what he normally experienced.
The memory of the morning duel flashed before his eyes. Rylan had smiled at him, taunting with words, egging him on. Lucian had kept control, masked his real strength, but every action, every trick, every subtlety of position had been planned. He had studied Rylan's moves, noted his faults, his mannerisms, and reactions. And it pleased him slightly. Analysis trumped brawn.
Night fell, and Lucian's shadows grew more complex. He molded them into intricate designs, small beings that followed without making a sound. Lucian's skills improved with each practice. He worked on movement, seeing how well shadows could adapt to rapid changes in movement, and camouflage, blending shadows seamlessly into the environment.
But one day they will be perfect, he thought, with a burst of pride. And no one—not Rylan, not Selene, not Magnus—will be able to stand against them.
A soft noise disrupted Lucian's focus—footsteps stalking towards the entrance of the library. Lucian instinctively pressed himself against a shelf, and darks obscured him like a living mask. His rapid pulse accelerated as he spotted a familiar figure: Rylan Cross. The child prodigy strode about with an air of easy superiority, talking about manuals on training and combat strategy.
Lucian permitted himself a tiny, almost infinitesimal smile. So he's here at night too… Interesting. Reckless. And predictable. Lucian observed Rylan for a brief moment, taking note of how he engaged with surroundings, of the tension in his stance, and of the swift glances he gave corners that were clearly expecting no one. Lucian's mind soaked up all these things. The competition was not merely based on talent. It is based on observation, on waiting, and on control.
Rylan finally let things drop, seeming satisfied or perhaps merely distracted. Lucian relaxed, exhaling very slowly. The shadows receded, unwinding from around his hands, and he permitted himself a brief moment to ponder. The rivalry might be intriguing, yes, but it also served as a reminder that he had to be careful. No move, no display of strength, ever truly worked without consequence within the academy's subtle politics.
Going back to a less crowded area of the library, Lucian experimented with a different pattern, combining various shadows into one entity that worked relatively independently. It fluctuated erratically at first before coalescing and functioning flawlessly under Lucian's control. Lucian experienced a thrill—not of demolition but of control. Power needs polish before it can be unleashed.
And yet, as he reveled in the dark, thoughts of Seraphine danced on the fringes of his mind. It was her warmth, her unswerving presence, and that tiny smile from today that haunted him. He wanted to impress her, protect her, and one day share with her the secret of his quiet strength.
Night fell further, the academy morgue-like silent except for the soft whisper of shadows and Lucian's deliberate breathing. He permitted himself a small mental check-list:
Note Rylan, predict what he might do next.
Train shadows, improve accuracy and reaction times.
Protect Seraphine, Keep it a secret.
Satisfied with his progress, Lucian let the shadows recede slowly, drifting back into the corners of his dorm room. His muscles were a bit sore from the workout, but it was a good sort of pain—one that came with progress and meaning. The young man pulled himself up from the floor and caught sight of Seraphine's laughter drifting from the next room.
Tomorrow will be different, he thought. Every action, every contact, every stride I make will be planned. I will not make the same mistakes I made before. As he at last settled into bed, with shadows whispering softly in the corner of his sight, Lucian closed his eyes. The Royal Hunter Academy slumbered peacefully, though he had seen within the night the whispers of power and strife yet to be.
But he let himself have just one more thought before sleep enveloped him. This time… I'm ready. The shadows are mine, and no one will ever take her from me. Certainly not Rylan, nor Selene, nor Magnus. nor fate itself. And with that vow, the Shadow Monarch truly began life as a shadow.