ShadowBound: The Need For Power

The following day was the final day Liam had to observe his Tactical Espionage target before turning in the report in class, and by then, he had already gathered more information than the assignment reasonably required.

Through Nyxie’s observation and the strange depth of Shadow Memory, Marren Voss had become more than a name attached to an academic aide. Liam knew the routes she took before morning classes began, the corridors she preferred when moving between faculty rooms, the staff members she spoke to most often, the aides she avoided, and the small habits she repeated when handling sealed documents.

The problem was not a lack of information.

The problem was that he had too much of it.

Nyxie had given him details no ordinary student should have been able to gather without taking absurd risks. Some were useful, some were pointless, and some were private enough that Liam had no intention of allowing them anywhere near the report.

Even the useful information had to be handled carefully. Seraphina was not the kind of instructor who would read a report and only judge whether the details were accurate. She would ask how those details had been obtained. Kaine would likely care less about elegance and more about whether the method revealed weakness, arrogance, or stupidity.

Because of that, Liam decided to observe Marren personally for this final day.

Not because he needed more material. He needed less.

The purpose was to understand how much information a normal student could realistically gather without Nyxie’s help. If he knew that, he could adjust the report properly. He could trim away the details that came too easily through Shadow Memory, keep the ones that could be explained through ordinary observation, and shape the entire thing into something believable enough that Seraphina and Kaine could not tear apart every line for being too precise.

Seraphina would probably notice anyway.

That was almost inevitable.

But there was a difference between noticing and proving.

Liam started after his first lesson of the day, Fire Magic. The class itself had been more tolerable mostly because Asher’s presence had absorbed part of Professor Vale’s attention. Asher had spent half the class trying to refine the control of his blue flames during compression drills, and Professor Vale had been more interested in correcting the intensity of his output than isolating Liam for every minor adjustment.

When the bell rang, Liam left with the others and did not immediately head toward Knight Combat.

He gave himself just enough reason to remain near the Fire Magic wing. Students moved in clusters through the corridor, talking about the upcoming theory exams, complaining about Professor Vale’s standards, or trying to decide whether lunch would be worth eating today. Liam stayed near the edge of that movement, carrying his books beneath one arm as if he were only reviewing the schedule before moving on.

Marren appeared less than four minutes later.

She came from one of the side corridors near the faculty preparation rooms, carrying a narrow tray of glass-capped containers and a bundle of folded documents beneath her arm. Her aide uniform was as plain as ever, dark and neat, with a small brass badge pinned near the collar. She moved quickly, but not with the haste of someone panicking. Her pace belonged to routine, a person who had done similar errands enough times to know how long each step should take. Most students did not look at her for more than a second, if they looked at all.

Liam did not follow immediately.

He let her pass, then moved only after two groups of students drifted between them. A direct tail would have been foolish. He was too noticeable. Even if Marren herself did not recognize him at once, other students would, and the simple fact of Liam Hunter lingering too long behind an academic aide would eventually become more visible than whatever he hoped to learn.

Nyxie’s advantage had not been stealth alone.

It had been perspective.

Liam confirmed that within the few couple of minutes.

From within Marren’s shadow, Nyxie could see the angle of her feet when she changed direction before reaching an intersection. She could see the way Marren adjusted her grip on documents before entering certain rooms. She could remain beneath tables, near closed doors, and along the lower edge of walls where students rarely looked. She could follow through spaces Liam could not enter without explanation, and she could observe from beneath attention rather than around it.

Liam, standing several meters away in a corridor, had to settle for broader details.

That did not make the observation useless. It simply made it different. Because of the Shadow Memory, Marren existed more sharply in his senses than she should have. Nyxie had not only given him images. She had given him scent, sound, rhythm, and the faint trace of Marren’s Myst. It lingered in Liam’s memory in an oddly distinct way: ink, paper, corridor dust, metal keys, a mild soap used by staff aides, and beneath all of it, the quiet signature of her Myst. It was not strong. Marren did not radiate power like a combat student or professor.

Her Myst felt restrained and ordinary at first, but it had a dry, clean quality that Liam could recognize once he knew what to search for.

That helped.

He did not have to stand close to know she had turned into the adjoining records corridor. He could remain behind a corner, let passing students hide his stillness, and recognize the faint trace of her presence a few meters away. He could confirm that she moved from the Fire Magic wing to the administrative records office, then toward the Core Myst faculty room, then through one of the staff-only side passages that forced him to change routes. He could track enough from the outside to compare what Nyxie had shown him with what he could reasonably witness as a student.

The difference was significant.

Without Nyxie, he could still learn Marren’s general schedule. He could determine that she assisted Professor Vale often, that she handled documents for more than one department, and that students overlooked her because her role appeared too ordinary to matter. He could observe that staff treated her with familiarity, that she rarely initiated conversation first, and that she carried herself like someone trained to complete tasks without becoming part of anyone’s attention. Those details belonged in the report.

But without Nyxie, he would not have known which seals she handled most carefully. He would not have known the routes she used when no students were around. He would not have known which storage corridor made her hesitate, or which aide supervisor caused her to stiffen almost imperceptibly when receiving instructions. He certainly would not have known what went on in private staff areas, and he had no intention of pretending otherwise.

Between Fire Magic and Knight Combat, Liam watched what he could and left the rest alone.

After Knight Combat, he used the time before lunch to update a few notes. The class had left a dull ache in one shoulder, not because of anything severe, but because the instructor had made them work through repeated weapon-transition drills until several students began making mistakes from fatigue.

Liam had performed well enough, though part of his attention remained on the report. He did not like carrying unfinished adjustments in his mind while other tasks demanded precision.

During lunch break, he observed Marren again.

She did not eat with students. That matched Nyxie’s previous observations. Instead, she moved toward the side hall used by aides and junior staff, entering with a small wrapped meal and leaving several minutes later with a stack of returned forms. Liam did not enter the hall. He remained in the broader corridor, leaning near one of the notice boards with an open book in hand, letting the ordinary movement of students cover the fact that he was waiting. When Marren emerged, he marked the time and direction.

Again, the routine appeared just as Nyxie showed him.

Marren passed through areas students ignored because students were trained to care about professors, ranked classmates, obvious threats, noble gatherings, training halls, exam lists, and cafeteria gossip. Academic aides existed somewhere below that attention.

That made Marren a good target.

It also made Nyxie’s method too effective.

Liam understood that more clearly by the time lunch ended and he headed toward his final lesson of the day. Observing Marren openly for even a few short periods had confirmed the shape of the report he needed to write. It had to focus on what could be seen from the outside: the pattern of her duties, the value of her overlooked role, the way students ignored aides, and the practical intelligence gathered through timing, distance, and repeated observation. .

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