ShadowBound: The Need For Power

Inside the walls, Veyrhold was packed with structures.

Old barracks near the southern quarter. Storage houses clustered closer to the west. Wells in at least two courtyards. A larger central structure, likely the command hall, rose near the middle of the settlement with part of its roof caved in and one side blackened by age or fire. Narrow streets twisted between buildings, some open, some choked by rubble.

Smaller homes or workshops pressed close together in the eastern interior. Drainage channels crossed beneath parts of the street and vanished into darker openings near the walls. In several sections, shadows sat too heavily, gathered beneath roofs, inside doorways, and around collapsed alleys where starlight and mist both seemed reluctant to enter.

Veyrhold was not a small outpost.

It was a full fortified settlement, large enough to swallow a careless group and make them think being inside walls meant they had control.

Liam’s eyes narrowed.

’Too many enclosed spaces. Too many blind turns. Too many places for students to spread before clearing anything.’

The aqueduct view was useful, but not enough.

He descended from the stonework after memorizing the larger shape, then continued closer through the outer trees. As he approached, Wing moved farther ahead, tracing the upper lines of the wall and circling back with impressions of broken stone, empty tower tops, and movement somewhere inside the southern quarter. Liam slowed when he reached the outer settlement ground. The old road widened here, cracked stones leading directly toward the half-collapsed gate. He did not take it.

The gate was for people who wanted to announce themselves to whatever had claimed the inside.

Instead, he moved along the wall’s western curve until he found a broken section where stones had fallen outward in uneven shelves. Shadows collected thickly beneath the damaged masonry, making the climb easier to hide. He tested each hold before committing weight, climbing with controlled movements, using the wall’s cracks, protruding stones, and darkness rather than any dramatic spell. The stone was cold under his hands, damp in places, but solid enough. He reached the top without dislodging loose rock and crouched low behind a broken parapet.

From the wall, Veyrhold looked even more dangerous.

Liam began walking along the top slowly, staying low where the structure was exposed and pausing whenever the stone beneath him shifted too much. He activated Shadow Sight carefully, drawing enough dark Myst to sharpen the shapes of shadowed spaces and read what ordinary sight would miss. At the same time, he shared impressions with Wing as it glided silently between rooftops and broken tower beams.

The settlement unfolded in pieces.

The southern gate was usable but dangerous. The fallen door created cover, but also a blind pocket where something could wait. The main entry road beyond it opened into a wide courtyard too exposed for tired students to gather without watchers posted above. The eastern wall had three collapsed sections, one low enough for easy passage but close to a drainage channel that might hide smaller threats.

The western storage quarter showed signs of disturbance: broken doors, claw-scraped thresholds, old sacks torn open, bones scattered near a collapsed storehouse. The northern side looked structurally stronger, but its streets narrowed too quickly, turning movement into choke points. Two wells were visible from his position. One in the central courtyard seemed intact, though the stone lip was cracked. The other near the western quarter had dark staining around it that Liam did not trust.

He mapped the place mentally as he moved.

First clearing priority: southern gate pocket, central courtyard perimeter, closest wells, command hall exterior. Do not let students claim buildings before inspection. Barracks tempting but dangerous. Storage quarter likely contaminated or occupied. Drainage channels need sealing or watchers. Wall breaches must be marked immediately. High points useful for archers and scouts, but unstable towers require inspection before use.

Wing sent a sharper impression.

Movement near the old barracks.

Liam stopped behind the remains of a watch post and let Wing’s sight deepen through the bond. The shadow creature perched beneath a cracked roof beam, ember-like eyes focused downward into a courtyard half-hidden between the barracks and a collapsed storage house. There, several large shapes moved among broken doors and scattered debris.

Gravebound Maulers.

The guide had covered them, though the earlier academy briefing had not wasted time naming every possible threat in front of the students. The Eldervale guide held more than the narration of the assessment had made important so far, and Liam had read enough to recognize them immediately.

Gravebound Maulers were Realm-Touched scavenger-predators that nested in abandoned structures and became violently territorial around enclosed spaces. Not especially intelligent. Very strong. The kind of creature that did not need cleverness if its arms could tear through doors and old walls while its jaws crushed bone like dry bread.

Through Wing’s sight and his own Shadow Sight from the wall, Liam studied them.

There were four confirmed, possibly five if the deeper shadow inside the barracks belonged to another. They were large and hunched, their stone-gray hides blending with old masonry whenever they crouched near walls. Thick arms hung too long from their shoulders, ending in heavy claws that looked capable of ripping apart wooden beams and weakened stone.

Bone-like growths jutted over their shoulders and backs in uneven plates, some chipped, some stained dark. Their heads were low and brutal, with jaws built for crushing rather than tearing, and their movements carried the dull confidence of creatures that had already claimed the place.

The signs around them confirmed it.

Claw marks raked across barracks doors. One doorway had been torn wider by force. Bones lay scattered near a corner, some animal, some harder to identify at distance. A pile of broken wood and cloth had been dragged inside one of the buildings, forming the rough edge of a den. The courtyard stones were gouged by repeated heavy movement. This was not a passing pack. They had claimed that section of Veyrhold.

Liam’s gaze shifted toward the southern road beyond the gate.

Chris was coming from the south.

Fast.

If his group entered through the obvious southern road and treated the gate as the first victory, they could push into the open courtyard, start organizing too close to the barracks, and run into the Maulers before forming a proper clearing party. A tired group, enlarged after rescue, carrying injuries, proud from success, and eager to prove momentum could become command would be exactly the kind of group that might advance one street too far before checking the buildings.

Liam crouched on the wall, watching the Maulers move below.

A cold, practical thought crossed his mind.

He could leave them.

Chris wanted proof. Let the arrogant bastard make himself useful. If he arrived first and cleared a Gravebound Mauler den, Veyrhold became safer without Liam spending Myst. If Chris succeeded, the year benefited. If he struggled but survived, he learned the difference between speed and control. Politically, it would also give Chris the sort of action he wanted while forcing him to carry the cost of arriving first. There was a certain neatness to that.

Liam almost liked it.

’Let him earn his noise,’ he thought.

Then he looked again at the courtyard, the southern gate, the narrow approach beyond it, and the cluster of old buildings around the Mauler den.

The problem was not Chris.

The problem was the twenty or more students behind him.

If Chris walked into that section with a tired group and the Maulers struck from enclosed spaces, students could be crushed, badly injured, extracted, or thrown into chaos before Sheila and Edith arrived. A single Mauler bursting through a barracks wall into an unprepared formation could break the center. Two could scatter the injured. Four could turn the southern quarter into a meat grinder if the group had not secured distance and angles first. Even if Chris won, the cost might damage the year before its command structure had a chance to form properly.

Letting Chris suffer a lesson was acceptable.

Letting the year lose function because Chris was useful bait was stupid.

Liam exhaled quietly through his nose.

’Annoying.’

He weighed the choice without emotion.

Clearing the pack alone would cost Myst. Not an impossible amount, but enough to matter this early. Fire could work, but large flames inside Veyrhold might draw attention, damage structures, or reveal more output than he wanted. Dark magic would solve parts of it faster, but he had already decided not to show too much before he understood how observers were watching.

Daggers alone against multiple Maulers was inefficient unless he used terrain, height, and surprise, and even then, their hide and bone growth would make clean kills difficult. Weakening them was more reasonable than full clearing. Draw one out. Kill or cripple it quietly if possible. Collapse an entry point. Mark the danger. Force Chris’s group away from the den before they blundered into it.

Leaving them entirely cost him nothing now and possibly much more later.

Handling the issue cost him something now and possibly saved the year from an early fracture.

He stood on the wall, looking down at Veyrhold while Wing circled silently above the barracks.

’If I do too much, they learn too much. If I do nothing, the first group might bleed for it. If Chris reaches this courtyard first, he will push forward because stopping at the gate looks like hesitation. Logan will support it. The others will follow because he just rescued students. Mela may object if the injured are tired, but he will override her if he thinks the walls are close enough to justify it.’

The calculation tightened.

Liam was beginning to lean toward action. Not a full reveal. Not a dramatic clearing. Just enough to change the board before the pieces arrived. He could weaken the den, redirect the first group, and preserve his own Myst if he did it correctly. The work would be irritating, but less irritating than dealing with a year already bleeding before Sheila reached the walls.

His fingers shifted near his side, ready to call one of his daggers from shadow.

Then a voice cut up from below and behind the wall.

"Oi, dead-eyed bastard. What the hell are you doing up there?"

Liam did not turn at once.

He recognized the voice immediately.

Asher.

For the first time since seeing the Maulers, Liam’s calculation changed. He looked down toward the southern quarter again, then toward the place the voice had come from, and understood that he might not need to overdo himself after all.

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