Over the past few days, Liam had been far from idle. Not with the way things were spiraling around him.
By daylight, he was rooted in books and battle forms—studying the intricacies of fire magic alongside Ariana. He dissected theory, tested application, and sharpened the bite of his flames with every lesson learned. That was his rhythm. Day meant discipline. Knowledge in, fire out.
But when night fell… all that structure crumbled.
Just like Seraphina promised, every midnight dragged him from his dorm and into the academy's shadows—no map, no hints, just a single mission: find her.
The first two nights? Chaos. She was nothing more than a phantom. A whisper in wind. Tracking her down felt like chasing smoke with bare hands.
By the third night, Liam made a choice—no more leaning too hard on Shadow Sight. He pulled back, grounded himself, and turned to his natural senses. The decision came after he caught on to something… odd. Seraphina's myst, though not dark magic, shimmered with a similar flavor.
It reminded him of the dark forest. The creatures he faced there, back when he first arrived, gave off the same eerie pull. Back then, with no clear read on myst, he relied on instinct—on scent and sound. It wasn't perfect, but it kept him alive.
So, he did the same now.
His senses weren't elite, but with a little Myst Amplification? They sharpened just enough. He began tracing myst threads with his nose and ears—strange as it felt. He even memorized the scent of Seraphina's perfume, mixed with her natural presence. It made him uncomfortable—like some creepy stalker—but the mission demanded it. No room for pride in a battlefield of shadows.
That third night wasn't a victory, not entirely. But it was a level-up. He stumbled less, veered less, got closer. His new method had promise.
So, naturally, she raised the stakes.
She created double myst traces, making it difficult for Liam to point the exact thread to follow. Sometimes, she'd slip a whisper into the wind, like a siren's call, just audible enough to pull him in the wrong direction… only for her to vanish again.
Liam fell for the tricks a few times, sure. But he learned. Fast.
And each time he managed to find her—perched on the academy clock tower, draped across a bench in the garden cloaked in fog, or lounging at the edge of the underground pools—she greeted him with a smirk that said you're improving.
And then she'd vanish again, laughter slipping into the dark like mist through fingers.
And then she'd vanish again, laughing into the night.
Liam missed sleep, a lot of it. But the trade-off? Worth it.
He was adapting faster to his dark magic.
Today marked the final breath of freedom—the last day of the academy's break. And Liam? He spent it buried in the library with Ariana, deep in study mode.
They were surrounded by books them like they were professors. Ariana glanced up from her tome, eyes landing on Liam. His gaze was locked in on his own tome.
But something didn't sit right.
'He's the same… but off,' she thought, biting her lip. Then softly, "Umm, Liam?"
He tilted his head up, just enough to catch her gaze. "Yeah?"
"It might be none of my business but… are you sleeping okay?" Her voice was gentle, laced with concern.
"It's just… you look fine, like normal. But your eyes?" She leaned in a bit. "You look kinda zombie-ish. Just curious, that's all."
"Oh, that?" Liam said, brushing it off with practiced calm. "Stayed up late learning some stuff. Nothing to worry about."
"I see… sorry for asking."
"No need to apologize, Ariana." He offered a faint smile and returned to his book.
'Hah,' Liam sighed inwardly. 'Even with Crimson Breathing keeping me functional on scraps of sleep, I can't hide these dead-man eyes.'
'And honestly... I think I'm getting too used to this cozy life. Back in the dark forest, I could go days without rest and still move like a blade. Weak as I was then, I wasn't soft.'
'The last thing I need… is to get soft.'
He leaned back in his seat, eyes drifting to the ceiling. Then, casually:
Ariana's head shot up like she'd been jolted.
"Umm… wanna hit the cafeteria?" she asked, a little unsure.
"Hm? Cafeteria? Aren't they on break too?"
"Well, yeah, but the staff's supposed to come back a day before us," she explained.
"Oh. That works," Liam said, standing with a stretch. "Let's go."
"O-Okay," Ariana said quickly, closing her book and standing up.
Liam slid his hands into his pockets, headed for the door—but didn't make it far.
"Wait! Liam—just a second," Ariana called, stepping closer.
He paused, blinking. "You need something?"
"No," she said, stopping just inches away. "I just… wanna do this. Stay still."
She reached up with both hands, her fingers brushing softly against his cheek as she whispered, "Aquea Lux."
A soft light blossomed between them—cool and comforting. Water danced across his skin, washing away the bags under his eyes, soothing the tension etched into his face. Light followed the trail, sculpting his features back to peace.
When it faded, she smiled, tucking a strand of hair from his forehead. "There. Now you look like your usual handsome self."
Liam blinked, a trace of surprise flickering in his eyes, the warmth of Ariana's spell still clinging to his skin like morning dew. "Didn't know you had water and light affinities."
"Yeah... I guess I haven't told you yet," Ariana replied, voice soft.
Ariana giggled, nervously brushing her hands over her skirt like she could wipe away the boldness of her actions. "You're welcome."
"We can go now, right?" she asked, avoiding his gaze.
"Yeah. Let's go," Liam said, his tone cool as ever. 'She reminds me of Elsie... but Elsie didn't have auburn hair,' he mused as they stepped out into the quiet hallway.
They walked side by side in silence for some time until Ariana broke it with a question.
"So... are you happy about starting the second semester?" she asked.
Liam's eyes stayed forward. "Can't say I feel anything. But it's good to know I'll get to learn more from Professor Orin Vale. I've got some questions lined up for him."
"Oh, I see..." she said, nodding gently.
"What about you?" Liam asked, his voice lighter. "You looking forward to tomorrow?"
"Me? Umm, yeah. I get to see everyone again," Ariana said with a small smile. "I bet the others trained during break too, like us."
"Yeah... me too," Liam replied, though a flash of Asher's cocky grin danced in his head. 'That bastard's probably ready to annoy the hell out of me with whatever new trick he picked up.'
As they moved through the corridor, about to round a corner, Liam's senses spiked.
He caught movement from the edge of his vision.
His arm shot out, halting Ariana just in time. Still, she lightly bumped into the oncoming figure.
"You good?" Liam asked her, voice flat but steady.
"Yeah, thank—" Ariana began, but the stranger cut in, dripping venom.
"Are you blind by any chance?"
The voice slithered through the air like oil over fire.
They turned, and there he stood: Gordon Rvack, the assistant Headmaster. But his usual plastic smile was absent—replaced by a sneer curled in raw disgust, like just looking at them ruined his day.
"I'm sorry, Assistant Headmaster," Ariana said quickly, bowing slightly. "I should've been more careful."
"Yes, you should've. Those glasses of yours seem to be failing you. Get new ones," he said with an eye roll, venom leaking from his tone. Then his gaze snapped to Liam—who stared back, bored.
'Tch. Those eyes... just like that arrogant bastard, Gordon thought bitterly. 'And this blind one, she's that bitch's apprentice. How infuriating seeing people who remind me of of those two.'
"You," he hissed. "Don't look me in the eyes with those cursed things, brat. And you, four-eyes, tell your mentor to fix your sight while she's at it."
He turned with a huff. "I'd better get going before you worthless kids make me any later."
His footsteps echoed down the hall.
"Useless kids, everywhere..." he muttered as he vanished around the corner.
Ariana scowled in his wake. "What an ass," she muttered, her usually gentle voice sharpened with irritation. "He might be the assistant headmaster, but that doesn't give him the right to act like some rude maniac."
She turned toward Liam with a grateful smile. "Anyway, thanks for stopping me, Liam."
He didn't respond right away—his gaze still locked on the hallway where Gordon had vanished. But there was no anger in his expression. No annoyance. Just… a strange, quiet confusion.
'What the hell was that smell?' Liam thought, brows furrowed. 'He reeks… but not like sweat or rot. It's something worse. Something unnatural.'
A faint chill tickled his spine.
'It makes me wanna throw up,' he thought, resisting the urge to clutch his throat. 'That scent… it wasn't human.'