ShadowBound: The Need For Power

Liam stayed out of Sheila’s business not only because of what he had told Sheila, though that was part of it. He had meant what he said. If Sheila was going to lead, then she needed to face the pressure directly, not have Liam remove every difficulty before it reached her.

But his absence was also because he had other things to handle, and because every visible step he took near Sheila’s leadership would risk making people think he was the hidden authority behind her decisions. That would damage more than help.

So he stayed away from the commander talk.

He studied.

He trained.

He watched without appearing to watch.

Mabel had returned from her patrol with no useful answer. She had found no suspicious presence, no hidden assassin, no trace of someone moving through the academy with intent toward Liam, and no magical residue that clearly suggested surveillance. She had searched the outer routes, certain rooftops, nearby corridors, blind corners, and places where someone with skill might observe without being easily seen. Nothing.

After two more days passed without Liam feeling the sensation again, he began to wonder if he had been hypersensitive that day.

The theory was irritating, but not impossible. He had been handling too many problems at once, maintaining links with multiple shadows, dealing with Chris, watching Isolde, and thinking about the Bastion Assessment. His mood had already been poor, and irritation could sharpen perception until harmless things looked threatening.

Still, Liam did not trust that explanation.

He remembered the sensation too vividly. The feeling had not been vague. It had been predatory, focused, and gone the moment he tried to catch it. That was not the same as ordinary paranoia. But with no clue, no trace, no repeated occurrence, and nothing for Mabel to track, there was little he could do without wasting time in empty suspicion.

So he shifted his attention elsewhere.

Theory exams were only days away.

Liam began preparing more deliberately, reviewing Core Myst, Fire Magic theory, Tactical Espionage principles, and the parts of Knight Combat that involved written analysis rather than simply hitting someone until they stopped being a problem. He also read the Bastion Assessment guide whenever he had free time after studying. The more he read, the more Eldervale became less of a vague realm and more of an organized problem.

The guide explained that the hostile creatures within Eldervale could be compared to demons in terms of strength, behavior, and threat classification, but they were not demons in the strict sense. Eldervale’s mystical structure was unusual, dense in some regions and distorted in others, creating conditions where ordinary creatures, old remnants, and realm-born entities had evolved in extreme ways.

Some had adapted around corrupted Myst flows. Some had developed unnatural hunting patterns. Some behaved like beasts but carried instincts far too coordinated to dismiss. Others resembled lower demon classes in danger and aggression, yet lacked the same origin, structure, or classification.

Realm-Touched.

That was the term the guide used.

Not a new demon class. An adaptation label.

Liam read entries on Hollowbacks, Gravebloom Horrors, Vein Crawlers, Glassmaws, Choir Demons, Mourning Giants, and other confirmed threats the academy had catalogued. Some sounded like beasts warped by the realm’s Myst conditions. Some sounded close enough to demons that most students would not care about the distinction once teeth, claws, or corrupted Myst were involved.

The guide was careful to emphasize that confirmed information did not equal complete information, repeating Lucia’s warning in more formal language. Eldervale had regions where observation became unreliable, where communication insignias might distort, where Myst flow could strengthen one affinity while interfering with another.

Veyrhold was given an entire section.

The abandoned fortified settlement had outer walls, inner defensive lines, damaged watchtowers, collapsed storehouses, old wells, possible underground storage areas, sealed sections, and several zones marked as requiring assessment before use.

The guide included possible restoration priorities: secure water, clear interior threats, establish medical space, create watch rotations, assign sleeping quarters, inspect wall integrity, map nearby routes, and prevent students from scattering too far before command structure settled. Liam understood immediately why Lucia had said the assessment was more mission than exam.

If the second-years treated it like a competition, they would ruin themselves.

On the weekend, Liam sat in the library with the Eldervale guide open before him.

The library was quieter than usual but far from empty. Exam season had driven students into every available study space, and though the cafeteria would likely be freer at noon on a weekend, the library had become a place of tense concentration. Some students sat alone with stacks of books. Others whispered in small groups over Core Myst diagrams, enchanted maps, or class notes. A pair of first-years near the far end looked as though they were one difficult question away from giving up and becoming farmers. A third-year slept upright with a book open in front of him, his hand still holding a pen above a half-finished page.

Liam occupied a table near one of the tall windows, the Bastion guide spread open beside his own notes. He had chosen the seat because it gave him a clear view of the library entrance, two side aisles, and the nearest window reflection. Habit, not paranoia. Mostly.

He turned a page, then paused to sweep a strand of hair away from his face.

His hair had become a problem.

Over the last couple of months since his last cut, it had grown longer than he liked. It was now nearly at his shoulders, close enough to Dylan’s length that Liam found the comparison personally offensive. Several dark strands with faint red traces kept falling forward whenever he leaned over the book, forcing him to brush them aside again and again just to read properly. He hated every second of it.

He could not do much about it at the moment.

Technically, he could tie it.

Practically, he could not.

More accurately, he did not know how. He had tried once, then twice, and both attempts had ended with results so irritatingly poor that he had decided the skill was either cursed or intentionally designed to waste time. The hair either slipped loose, pulled unevenly, or sat in a way that made him want to cut it off with a dagger and accept whatever uneven disaster followed. Mabel could probably tie it properly. Ariana definitely could. Charlotte would use the opportunity to become unbearable. Dylan would never survive being asked. Sheila might help if asked, but Liam would rather fight a Mourning Giant with a spoon than make that conversation necessary.

So he kept sweeping the strands aside.

Again.

And again.

By the time he reached the section describing forest routes around Veyrhold’s northeastern approach, the same lock of hair fell over his eye for what felt like the hundredth time.

Liam stared at the page through the obstruction.

Then slowly moved the hair aside.

"Waste of functional organs," he muttered under his breath, though whether he meant the hair, himself for not learning how to tie it, or the person who invented hair in the first place was unclear.

A student at the next table glanced up briefly, then decided very wisely to return to their notes.

Liam continued reading.

The guide noted that the northeastern forest was dense, heavily rooted, and difficult for large formations to cross quickly. Several pathways had been marked during previous scouting, but the academy warned that some routes shifted due to growth patterns influenced by Eldervale’s Myst density. Hollowbacks were common there, especially near fallen trees and damp ground, while Vein Crawlers were more often found near exposed root systems and old stone structures.

The guide recommended small reconnaissance units rather than large groups, with at least one student capable of detecting ground vibration or hidden movement.

Liam made a small note beside the page.

Earth Magic, sensory Myst, aerial scouting if possible, shadow scouting if not visible to others.

He stopped before writing the last part too directly.

Then his stomach made its opinion known.

Liam looked down at himself, then toward the nearest window where daylight sat pale and high over the academy grounds. It was noon already. He had eaten nothing that morning, mostly because he had woken up, trained lightly, washed, and gone straight into study without caring to visit the cafeteria first. That had seemed efficient at the time. Now it seemed annoying.

He closed the guide.

The cafeteria should be less crowded than usual at this hour. Weekend schedules spread students out more unevenly, and many second-years were likely either studying in dorm groups, training, or panicking over the guide somewhere else. He could eat, return, and continue before the afternoon became useless.

Liam gathered his notes, the guide, and the few books he had taken from the shelves.

Darkness shifted around his hand.

One by one, the materials vanished into his void storage, swallowed cleanly by dark magic without sound. A nearby student tried not to stare and failed for half a second before looking away. Liam ignored them, rose from his seat, and pushed the chair back into place.

He swept his hair away from his face again.

The strand fell back almost immediately.

Liam stared forward with a dead expression.

Then he walked toward the library exit, already deciding that if the cafeteria had nothing warm, someone somewhere in the academy had committed a crime.

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