ShadowBound: The Need For Power

Isolde waited until they had passed before speaking again.

"You really must be having a difficult time here," she said.

Liam’s gaze remained forward. "Why?"

"Because you’re a dark mage."

The statement was direct, though her tone stayed calm. There was no pity in it, which made it less irritating than it could have been.

She continued before he answered. "You’ve accomplished things most students here haven’t. Most of your own year certainly haven’t. Some of the third-years haven’t either." Her hazel-green eyes shifted toward him. "I haven’t."

Liam studied her from the corner of his eye.

There it was again. A statement that sounded simple but felt placed. Isolde had not asked him to walk her to her dorm because her shoulder hurt. She had not stretched their conversation because she enjoyed receiving one-word answers. She wanted something, even if that something was only a clearer impression of him.

He had not yet decided whether that made her curious or dangerous.

Possibly both.

"I disagree," Liam said.

"With which part?"

"That I’m having a difficult time."

Isolde looked at him for a moment. "You aren’t?"

"I’m coping fine."

She stared for another second before a soft laugh escaped her. At first it was only a breath of amusement, but it lasted longer than Liam expected. She lowered her head slightly as they walked, smiling to herself as though he had confirmed something she had suspected.

Liam’s eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Nothing."

"You laughed."

"I did."

"Why?"

Isolde’s laughter faded, though the amusement remained in her expression. "You sound just like Percy."

That caught Liam’s attention immediately.

His head turned slightly toward her, his face remaining controlled even as his focus sharpened.

Isolde noticed.

"Percy Granger," she clarified, though she clearly knew clarification was unnecessary. "Recent graduate. Former ranked one. Crescent’s golden prince, depending on who you ask."

Liam said nothing.

Isolde looked ahead again. "He used to say things like that. Not the exact words, but close enough. Whenever someone pointed out that he was carrying too much, dealing with too much, or making things harder than they needed to be, he would say he was managing. Coping fine. Completely in control." Her smile became faintly distant. "He always made it sound like acknowledging difficulty was the same thing as surrendering to it."

Liam listened without appearing to.

"Maybe that’s why he respected you more than he respected me," Isolde continued. "Possibly more than he respected his own sister too."

The statement was light, but not careless.

Liam understood the shape beneath it almost immediately. Something had happened between Isolde and Percy.

Or perhaps nothing had happened, and that was the problem.

There was familiarity in the way she spoke his name, but also distance. No open bitterness. No warmth either. Whatever connection they had shared had left behind enough weight for her to compare Liam to him after only a few minutes of conversation.

Liam did not ask.

It was not his concern, and questioning her would only encourage whatever direction she was trying to steer them toward. If Isolde wanted to explain herself, she would. If she did not, then forcing the matter would give her more information about his curiosity than he wanted to provide.

The silence between them lasted through the next corridor.

Isolde did not appear uncomfortable with it. Her steps remained easy, and the faint sound of their boots against the stone carried ahead of them. Outside the tall windows, the last of the evening light had nearly disappeared, leaving the academy grounds washed in dark blue. Lamps had begun glowing along the exterior paths, their light reflected faintly against the glass.

They passed another cluster of third-years near the entrance to the connecting hallway. This group reacted more openly. One young man greeted Isolde with a respectful nod, then looked at Liam with visible suspicion. A girl beside him ignored Liam completely. Another girl, standing with one shoulder against the wall, let her gaze travel over him with deliberate slowness before offering a faint, teasing smile.

Liam looked away from her without reaction.

The girl’s smile widened.

Isolde noticed but said nothing.

Once they entered the long enclosed walkway connecting the third-year academic wing to the residential building, the sounds of the academy grew more distant. The passage was broad enough for several students to walk side by side, with reinforced glass panels along one side overlooking the grounds below. The wind pressed faintly against the windows, and beyond them, bare trees moved beneath the darkening sky.

Isolde folded her hands behind her back.

"What do you think of Sheila as a leader?" she asked.

The change in subject was smooth enough that it might have seemed casual to someone less suspicious.

Liam looked forward. "Why?"

"She’s taken on more responsibility among the second-years, hasn’t she?"

"Yes."

"And people listen to her."

"Most do."

Isolde glanced at him. "Do you think she’ll succeed her brother?"

Liam considered the wording. Isolde had not asked whether Sheila could replace Percy academically, nor whether she could match his rank. She had asked whether Sheila could succeed him, which carried more weight. Leadership. Influence. Perhaps Crescent itself, depending on how far Isolde intended the question to reach.

"If I’m being honest," Liam said, "I think she would be better than her brother."

Isolde’s eyebrows rose.

Liam continued before she could respond. "She pays more attention to people. Percy pays attention to outcomes."

"That sounds almost like criticism."

"It isn’t."

"No?"

"They’re different."

Isolde watched him for a moment. "And you think Sheila would be a successful leader?"

"Yes."

"As successful as Percy?"

"More."

The answer came without hesitation.

Isolde’s expression shifted slightly, surprise warming into interest. Liam looked at her once and added, "She could become a proper leader. Like you."

For the first time since their collision, Isolde appeared genuinely caught off guard.

A faint warmth touched her face, subtle but visible beneath the corridor lights. She blinked and then laughed, though this time the sound carried a trace of embarrassment she had not shown before.

"That was unexpectedly kind," she said.

"It was an observation."

"That somehow makes it worse."

Liam did not understand why, so he said nothing.

Isolde looked ahead, still smiling faintly. "You and Percy really are cut from the same cloth."

Liam’s expression flattened further.

She noticed and laughed again. "That wasn’t an insult."

"I didn’t say it was."

"You looked like it was."

"This is how I look."

"Yes, you’ve mentioned that." She tilted her head slightly. "It does make me wonder who Percy’s true sibling is."

The comment carried enough playfulness to disguise whatever sincerity lay beneath it. Liam heard the implication clearly, both the comparison between him and Percy and the quiet contrast being drawn against Sheila.

He gave her no answer.

Isolde did not press.

They reached the end of the connecting walkway and entered the third-year dormitory building. The interior was warmer than the academic wing, though the atmosphere remained quieter and more ordered than the second-year residences.

The common areas were furnished with dark wood tables, deep chairs, and shelves crowded with advanced texts. Several doors stood open farther down the hall, allowing glimpses of students studying, cleaning weapons, or arguing quietly over strategy notes.

Liam’s presence drew attention almost immediately.

A group of girls seated near one of the common tables looked up as he entered beside Isolde. One recognized him first and whispered something to the others. Their reactions varied. A girl with short blond hair gave him a daring smile, resting her chin against her hand as she watched him pass.

Another leaned toward her companion with open amusement, clearly entertained by the sight of the dark mage being escorted through the third-year dormitory by their president.

A third girl looked at him with immediate dislike.

Her gaze hardened, and she shifted slightly in her seat as though resisting the urge to speak. Another student farther down the hall glanced once at Liam and then turned away with deliberate indifference.

Isolde greeted several of them as they passed, never slowing for long. She appeared entirely comfortable with the attention, which only reinforced Liam’s suspicion that she had known exactly what walking him through the building would cause.

"You seem popular," Liam said.

Isolde looked amused. "That sounded almost accusatory."

"It was an observation."

"You really like that phrase."

"It’s accurate."

They continued up one short flight of stairs and along a quieter residential corridor. Fewer students stood here, though two girls leaving a nearby room paused when they saw Isolde. One greeted her politely before looking at Liam with naked curiosity. The other gave him a slow, teasing glance that lingered on his face before shifting toward Isolde with a knowing smile.

Isolde ignored the implication.

Liam wished everyone else would do the same.

At last, she stopped before a dark wooden door near the end of the corridor. A small brass plate beside it carried her name and position in clean engraved letters. The space around the door was simple, with none of the excessive decorations some noble students used to announce themselves.

Isolde turned to face him.

"This is me," she said.

Liam looked at the door, then at her. "I assumed."

Her smile returned. "I appreciate the walk."

He gave a slight nod.

"And the conversation," she added. "It was useful."

That word caught his attention, though only slightly.

Isolde rested one hand against the door handle but did not open it yet. "Now I can say I know something about Liam Hunter other than what everyone else knows."

Liam studied her calm face.

She had learned that he answered simply, distrusted easy familiarity, respected Sheila’s leadership, disliked Tactical Espionage, and sounded enough like Percy to interest her. Whether that amounted to knowing him was debatable.

Still, Liam had learned things too.

Isolde was willing to lie badly when the lie itself amused her. She used warmth to lower defenses. She knew Percy well enough to compare habits and resent differences in respect. She watched reactions carefully. Her approachable nature was real in some ways, but controlled in others. Most importantly, she had wanted this conversation before they ever began walking.

Liam did not say any of that.

"Have a good evening, Senior Thorne," he said.

Isolde’s expression softened with amusement. "You too, Liam."

He turned and began walking back down the corridor.

As he moved away, one thought passed quietly through his mind.

He could say the same about her.

The difference was that what he had learned only made him trust her less.

By the time Liam reached the stairs, the irritation of the situation had begun shifting toward something more immediate. The route back to the second-year dormitories would take him through the western exit, across the outer path, around the rear academic buildings, and then past the northern training grounds. It was longer, darker, and far more exposed to the late-autumn wind than the route he had originally intended to take.

He could already hear the wind pressing against the building.

Liam descended the stairs, crossed the lower common area beneath several more curious stares, and reached the outer doors. The moment he pushed them open, cold air swept against him with enough force to make his coat shift around his legs.

His expression darkened.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.

Then he stepped outside and began the long walk back to his dorm.

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