ShadowBound: The Need For Power

Because Nyxie handled most of the observation, Liam did not have to sacrifice the rest of his routine. After classes ended each day, he still trained with Mabel. And just like the weeks that had passed before, the training remained trapped in a stagnant circle.

He still could not mimic her swordsmanship correctly.

That fact became more obvious the longer he tried. Liam could reproduce certain surface motions from Mabel’s style, but the deeper quality remained out of reach. His copied movements had shape, but not continuity. They carried angles, but not the natural transitions that made her swordwork so difficult to read.

Whenever he tried to force the flow, the motion became stiff. Whenever he tried to relax, it lost structure. When he slowed it down, he could understand pieces. When he sped up, the pieces broke apart.

Mabel found the entire thing more entertaining than she felt guilty admitting.

She had warned him countless times that it would not work. She had explained the limitations, the family nature of the art, the Myst alignment behind it, and the fact that he could not simply observe his way into something built from generations of inherited discipline. She had done her part.

If Liam insisted on continuing, then she was allowed to enjoy the rare sight of him repeatedly failing at something he had chosen for himself.

It was not every day she saw Liam Hunter behave with such childish stubbornness.

That amused her more than it should have.

For a boy who carried too much maturity for his age, who analyzed danger with unnerving calm and spoke about survival, power, and death as if they were practical subjects on a lesson board, this was almost refreshing. He was not breaking himself over vengeance in those moments. He was not dragging old pain behind his eyes. He was not forcing growth out of necessity. He was simply trying to learn something he wanted, refusing to accept failure because failure annoyed him.

Mabel suspected he would not remain stuck forever. Eventually, he would either accept the truth and turn his attention elsewhere or discover some strange workaround that irritated her entire bloodline by existing.

Until then, she watched him fail.

And Liam continued failing.

***

By the first day of the weekend, three days after choosing Marren Voss as his target, the academy had settled into its usual weekend rhythm.

Noon arrived beneath a pale sky and a cold sun that gave light without kindness. The day was not as harsh as the evenings had become, but late autumn still pressed itself against the academy grounds in every breeze that passed between the buildings.

Students filled different parts of the campus according to their priorities.

Some trained because exams were approaching and fear had finally overcome laziness. Some studied in groups, spreading notes and books across every available table they could claim. Others went into Grandeur City with permission, eager to spend a few hours pretending they were not trapped inside a school that considered danger a teaching method.

A few simply wandered the grounds in casual clothes, enjoying the illusion of freedom before the next week dragged them back into schedules and instructors.

Liam headed to the library with several books in hand.

He wore his casual clothes without the heavier coat for now, though he had one folded over his arm because he did not trust the weather to remain tolerable. His books were stacked neatly, Core Myst texts balanced beneath a Fire Magic reference volume and the thin assignment notebook Seraphina had given them.

Nyxie remained away from him, still attached to Marren’s shadow somewhere else in the academy. Liam could feel the faint connection in the background, quiet and stable, like a thread tied to the edge of his awareness.

The library doors opened into warmth, paper, and silence.

Dark Knight Academy’s library was one of the few places on campus that seemed able to resist the constant pressure of training and discipline. It was vast, with high shelves climbing toward a vaulted ceiling, ladders fixed along rails, and long windows that let in enough daylight to make the rows of books glow faintly along their worn spines. Floating lamps hovered above several study tables where students had gathered in small groups. Some whispered over notes. Others sat alone, heads bowed, writing with the desperate focus of people who had delayed studying too long and were now being punished by their own choices.

Liam moved deeper inside, passing the louder central tables and heading toward one of the quieter sections near the side stacks. As he walked, his gaze drifted over the occupied spaces with subtle purpose. He was not simply looking for an empty seat. He was looking for someone, though he had not fully admitted that to himself before entering.

It did not take long to find her.

Ariana sat at a table tucked between two shelves of Core Myst theory and historical spell development. Several books were open around her, arranged in careful layers that would have looked messy to someone else but likely made perfect sense to her.

A notebook rested directly in front of her, filled with neat writing, diagrams, and small markings in the margins. Her auburn hair fell partly over one shoulder, and her transparent glasses sat low enough on her nose that she occasionally pushed them back up without seeming to notice she was doing it.

She was so absorbed in her reading that she did not look up when Liam approached.

He stopped beside the table. "Ariana."

Her pen jerked.

Ariana jolted slightly in her seat, shoulders lifting as she looked up at him with wide green eyes. For a second, she seemed caught between surprise and disbelief, as if his voice had reached her before her mind accepted that he was actually standing there.

"L-Liam," she said, then immediately looked embarrassed by the stutter. "Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in."

"I noticed." He glanced at the empty seat across from her. "Can I sit here?"

Ariana blinked, then nodded a little too quickly. "Yes. Of course. You can sit wherever you want. I mean, I don’t mind. The table is free. Well, not free, because I’m here, but there’s space, so... yes."

Liam looked at her for a moment.

Ariana’s face warmed.

He pulled the chair back and sat. "Thanks."

"You’re welcome," she said, quieter this time.

Liam placed his books on the table and set the folded coat over the back of his chair. He adjusted the Core Myst text to the top of the stack, then glanced around the nearby area. "Where are the others?"

Ariana took a second to answer, as though her mind had to shift back into ordinary conversation. "Dylan and Maxwell are on the other side of the library. They said they needed to find something for Forgemastery class. I think Maxwell had an idea and Dylan said he could help him look for something related to steel reinforcement, but I’m not completely sure."

She paused, then added, "Charlotte is still in her dorm room. Sleeping in, probably. She said weekends are sacred unless someone interesting is bleeding."

"That sounds like her."

Ariana smiled faintly, encouraged by the response. "Sheila is with Senior Isolde Thorne right now. Since Sheila will probably take over as student president once the third-years graduate, she’s been spending some time with her to learn what the position requires."

Liam’s fingers paused briefly over the edge of his notebook.

’How convenient.’

The thought came quiet and immediate. Isolde with Sheila, only days after the conversation in the third-year dormitory.

On the surface, it made sense. Sheila was ranked one among the second-years, and Liam doubted anyone was likely to take that position from her before the third-years graduated. If the academy expected Sheila to become student president, then spending time with Isolde was practical. Necessary, even. There was nothing suspicious about it in a way he could prove.

That did not make Liam trust it.

He still did not trust Isolde Thorne. Her easy manner remained too measured in his memory, too casually placed. She had asked about Sheila, compared him to Percy, and made a harmless collision into an excuse to walk him through the third-year dormitories. None of that was a crime. None of it even confirmed ill intent. But Liam had never needed proof of danger to decide caution was useful.

Ariana continued, unaware of the direction his thoughts had taken. "I don’t know where Asher is."

"Training somewhere," Liam said.

She smiled softly. "Probably."

That was almost certainly true. If Asher was not in the dormitory, the dining hall, or actively arguing with someone, then training was the safest assumption.

Liam opened his Core Myst text and set his assignment notebook beside it. Ariana watched him for a moment, then looked down at her own work as if reminding herself she had been busy before he arrived.

For several minutes, the table remained quiet.

Liam began reviewing one of the sections marked for the upcoming exams. Theory exams would begin in two weeks, with practical exams following after. The entire academy had started to feel the shift. Even students who acted unconcerned were studying more, training longer, and asking more questions than usual in class.

The pressure was not yet panic, but it was close enough to make the library busier than a normal weekend.

Ariana tried to return to her notes, but her attention kept slipping.

She stole a glance at Liam once, then looked away quickly. Then again. Then a third time, lingering slightly longer because he did not seem to notice.

He sat with his usual stillness, one hand resting near the edge of the open book while the other turned pages with careful precision. His dark hair, with those faint red traces barely visible beneath the library light, fell slightly over his brow. His expression was calm, focused, almost distant, but not in the empty way others sometimes described him.

Ariana had always thought there was more happening behind his eyes than most people understood.

She forced herself to look back at her notes.

After a few more moments, she gathered enough courage to speak. "Are you here to study for the Theory exam too?"

Liam did not look up immediately. "Yes."

Ariana nodded. "Core Myst?"

"And Fire Magic. Also an assignment from earlier this week."

"Tactical Espionage?"

"Yes."

Her gaze flicked briefly to the thin assignment notebook near his hand. "I see." She tucked a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "Then I should probably not disturb you."

She started to turn back to her own book.

"Thanks," Liam said.

Ariana paused.

He looked at her briefly, his red eyes calm, then lowered his gaze back to his materials. "But I don’t think you would be a disturbance."

Ariana stared at him.

For a moment, her mind simply stopped moving properly.

"Oh," she managed. "Okay."

The word came out softer than she intended, and she quickly looked down before her face could betray her more than it already had. Her pen hovered over her notes, though she did not write anything for several seconds. She told herself to focus. She told herself very firmly that Liam had only said something practical. He probably meant that he did not mind quiet company, or that she was not as loud as Dylan, or that her presence would not interrupt his work.

That was all.

Still, warmth spread through her chest in a way that made studying suddenly much harder.

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