ShadowBound: The Need For Power

By the time the third day of the week arrived, Liam had decided to approach the problem in the one way he had been trying to avoid.

Unnecessary effort.

Or at least, that was what he had considered it at first. Now, after Lucian’s information and the confirmation that someone close to Sheila was feeding Chris details, the effort had become necessary. That did not make it less irritating. It only made the irritation harder to ignore, because there was no longer a clean excuse to leave the matter alone. Sheila had been right to worry. Chris was moving again in some way, and Liam had given his word that he would make sure Chris did not become a problem by the time the practical exam arrived.

A word given meant action.

So Liam acted.

The first thing he did was deploy three shadow beasts to tail three different people: Sheila, Chris, and Isolde.

Chris was the obvious center of the problem. If someone was feeding him information, the easiest way to find the source was not to watch every possible person around Sheila, but to follow Chris himself and see who approached him. If Chris had been meeting someone privately, as Lucian claimed, then the best chance of finding that person was to stay on Chris’s shadow and wait. For that, Liam used Nyxie.

There had been no real debate there.

Nyxie was his best shadow, not simply in raw power, but in intelligence, adaptability, and independent judgment. Her recent ability to share memory had elevated her usefulness even further, and with the connection between them deepening, she understood Liam’s intentions with far less explanation than the others required. He did not need to explain every little detail to her anymore. He could give her a purpose, a few boundaries, and a warning about what mattered, and she would understand enough to adjust on her own.

For Sheila, Liam chose a shadow he had never used before.

The night before, after returning to his room and washing away the cold and annoyance of the day, he had taken time to silently search through the shadows stored within him. Many of them existed as quiet presences, waiting things without enough individuality to draw his attention unless summoned for battle or utility. Some were too weak for this kind of task. Some too simple. Some too noticeable if used incorrectly.

Liam needed something capable of remaining close, adapting to movement, and watching without causing distortions in Sheila’s shadow that might catch her attention or the attention of anyone around her.

Eventually, he found one.

A Raven-panther.

It was one of the magical beasts he had slain during the enrollment assessment in the Beast Realm, the same test where he had extracted Nyxie’s shadow. Liam had not used this shadow creature since then, but its presence inside his shadow felt more developed than he expected. More awake. Not as strong as Nyxie, not as clear in personality, but far above many of the other shadows he had left unused.

Its shape was sleek, predatory, and strange, with the body of a panther and the winged, feathered shadow structure of a raven. In life, the creature had moved between ground and air with unsettling grace. In shadow, that nature remained, quieter and darker, built for watching from impossible angles.

Liam named her Raven.

Not because it was creative.

Because he did not have time to think of anything better.

Raven was assigned to Sheila’s shadow. Her purpose was not to spy on Sheila for suspicion’s sake, but to identify anyone around her who appeared too attentive, too conveniently placed, or too interested in information that should not matter to them. If Chris’s source was close to Sheila, then watching Sheila’s daily movements could reveal who lingered near her with the wrong kind of interest.

As for Isolde, Liam gave her to Smoke.

That choice was less obvious, but instinct had a way of becoming useful before logic caught up. Liam did not trust Isolde Thorne. He could not point to one thing that proved she was involved, nor could he explain why the student president would help Chris if she was already mentoring Sheila for succession.

On the surface, Isolde’s involvement with Sheila made sense. It was practical and expected. Sheila was almost certainly going to become student president once the third-years graduated, and Isolde was the one best positioned to teach her what that role required.

And yet Liam still did not trust her.

Her easygoing nature felt too controlled. Her interest in Sheila and Percy had been too carefully placed during their brief conversation. She had asked questions that seemed casual, yet touched exactly the kind of points that could matter later. None of that proved guilt. But Liam had learned not to leave instinct unattended simply because proof had not arrived yet. If Isolde was innocent, then Smoke’s tailing would confirm that. If she was not, then ignoring her would be foolish.

Smoke, the spiked-fur shadow wolf, took to the assignment with the simple, cold focus of a hunting beast. He did not possess Nyxie’s layered intelligence, but he understood pursuit, scent, waiting, and threat. For Isolde, that was enough.

With those three targets under watch, Liam began his day as usual.

Mostly.

There were differences, even if no one around him would have noticed them. With Nyxie, he did not have to worry much. She could trigger a sense link if something important happened, and if she judged that a moment required deeper memory transfer later, Liam trusted she would remember enough.

With Smoke and Raven, things were less convenient. Neither of them could link with Liam at will. Only he could initiate the connection, which meant he had to check through their senses occasionally throughout the day when he had time, privacy, or enough mental space to divide his attention without making himself careless.

He gave Raven and Smoke more detailed instructions than Nyxie. Follow without distorting the target’s shadow. Avoid instructors. Avoid strong Myst awareness. Do not attack unless ordered or unless the target is in immediate danger that directly affects the mission. Do not reveal yourselves. Observe meetings, conversations, repeated patterns, changes in mood, and anyone who approaches the target privately. Retreat if detection becomes likely.

Nyxie had received most of that through the bond without needing every word.

Smoke and Raven needed the words.

The day itself moved forward beneath that hidden layer of observation.

Fire Magic came first, and Liam worked through the lesson with the usual restraint, drawing controlled heat into structured bursts while Professor Vale corrected output balance among the students. Asher, unsurprisingly, became the loudest presence without needing to speak much, his blue flames flaring too sharply during one compression drill and forcing Professor Vale to correct his channel pacing in front of the class. Liam used that distraction to briefly link with Raven.

Through Raven’s sight, Sheila moved between two groups of students near one of the inner corridors, speaking calmly with a pair of second-years who appeared to be asking about exam preparation. Her posture was steady. No obvious threat. No strange lingering figure close enough to matter. Raven watched from within the stretch of Sheila’s shadow, her perspective low and smooth, catching shoes, hems of uniforms, the movement of hands, and the faint shifts of feet more clearly than faces.

Liam broke the link and returned fully to Fire Magic before Professor Vale’s attention moved his way.

Later, between classes, he linked briefly with Smoke while walking toward Knight Combat with Asher. Isolde was in the third-year wing, moving with two senior students through a corridor lined with advanced study rooms. She carried papers in one hand and spoke with relaxed composure. Nothing beyond ordinary student president duties. Smoke’s perception was sharper around movement than detail, and Liam caught the faint sense of Isolde’s footfalls, the rhythm of her steps, the scent of parchment, ink, and the polished wood of the third-year halls before cutting the connection.

The only thing truly abnormal about the day had nothing to do with the shadows.

Liam felt watched.

That in itself was not unusual. He was watched often. Students stared when they thought he would not notice. Some watched with fear, others with dislike, curiosity, or the shallow fascination that came from rumors attached to dark magic. Liam had grown used to being someone people noticed even when he had no interest in being noticed.

This was different.

The sensation first came during Fire Magic.

It was not a normal stare from across the room. It pressed against his awareness like the gaze of a predator hidden behind brush, close enough to sharpen the instincts but distant enough to remain unseen. Liam felt it while adjusting the density of a flame construct around his hand, the sensation settling between his shoulder blades with a cold precision that had nothing to do with the weather.

His eyes lifted immediately.

The sensation vanished.

He scanned the room without moving his head too much. Asher was arguing with Professor Vale about whether a flame collapse should count as failure if he had technically maintained heat density. Several students watched the demonstration circle. Professor Vale stood near the front, irritated but focused on Asher.

No one looked wrong. No gaze lingered too sharply. No Myst signature stood out as unfamiliar.

Gone.

Like a breeze.

Liam did not like it.

The second time came while he and Asher walked toward Knight Combat.

Asher had been complaining about exam schedules, specifically how theory exams existed only to punish students who were better at doing things than writing about them. Liam had given him little more than occasional responses, his attention partly split between his surroundings and the shadows assigned to the day’s work. Then the sensation returned. A weight. A focused awareness. Something watching not with open curiosity, but with intent.

Liam stopped mid-step and turned slightly.

Asher halted beside him. "What?"

Liam’s eyes moved down the corridor, then toward the upper balcony crossing above the hall, then toward a side passage where two first-years disappeared too quickly to be responsible for anything more than lateness. Nothing. No one. The feeling had already vanished.

Asher frowned. "You saw something?"

"No."

"Then why did you stop?"

"I thought I did."

Asher looked at him for another moment, and though he clearly wanted to press, he seemed to think better of it. "You are strange."

"Keep walking."

"See? Strange."

After that, the sensation did not return for the rest of the school day.

That should have made it easier to dismiss.

It did not.

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