The sun sank slowly over the academy, casting ominous hues of red and orange across the sky.
The students had scattered after the interrogations, but no one felt safe.
The traitor was still among them, and the fact that no one knew who it might be only heightened the tension.
Skylar stood in the dim corner of the grand hall, her sharp eyes studying the people around her.
She tried to interpret every small movement, every stolen glance.
No one had confessed during the interrogations, and so far, there was no concrete evidence leading to the culprit.
The entire academy had turned into one giant chessboard, where trust was a dangerous illusion.
"You feel it too, don't you?" a familiar voice said beside her.
It was Nathaniel, one of the strongest fighters of their year, who had mostly kept his distance from her until now.
But tonight, his eyes were tense, alert.
"What do you mean?" Skylar asked cautiously, turning toward him.
"Something's wrong," he replied in a low voice.
"Someone is covering their tracks far too perfectly."
Skylar nodded.
She had suspected that this wasn't just a simple attack, but now she was certain it was part of a much larger plan—one someone had been preparing for a long time.
Their conversation was interrupted by sudden shouting at the main gate.
A group of students burst into the hall, terror etched across their faces.
"It's happened again!" one of them cried out.
"Someone attacked another student at the edge of the forest!"
From across the hall, Damian reacted immediately.
He moved in a blink, his expression cold and deadly.
"Show me," he commanded sharply, and the students quickly led the way toward the academy's borders.
Skylar and Nathaniel exchanged a glance and followed without hesitation.
The dark force threatening the academy had struck again—and this time, they might be in even greater danger.
The group moved swiftly toward the edge of the grounds.
The oppressive silence of the forest swallowed even the whisper of the wind.
Skylar's heart pounded as they approached the site.
Through the trees, flickering torchlights cast long, trembling shadows over the damp undergrowth.
When they arrived, the sight stopped them cold.
A young student lay sprawled on the ground, his clothes torn, his body marred by blackish-purple veins—like traces left by a dark energy.
His chest barely rose and fell, and his wide-open eyes stared blankly ahead, glassy with fear.
"He's still alive," Nathaniel said softly, kneeling beside the boy.
Damian motioned for everyone to step back, his face hardening with anger.
"Someone is toying with us," he growled.
"And they're getting bolder."
Skylar crossed her arms tightly, trying to suppress the chill crawling over her skin.
She recognized this magic—it was the same dark force that had surrounded the first victim.
Only now, it was far stronger.
"What do they want?" she whispered.
Damian shot her a cold, calculating look.
"This isn't just an attack.
It's a message.
Someone wants us to know they're here—and that they're not afraid to strike again."
The injured boy trembled, as if trying to move.
Skylar instinctively knelt beside him, her hand grasping his wrist.
His skin was icy cold—and the moment she touched him, vivid images slammed into her mind.
A dark figure...
A hooded silhouette, amber eyes burning deep within the shadows of a black cloak.
Standing in a clearing, hand pressed to the ground, whispering...
Tendrils of black energy slithered from his fingers, sweeping across the forest floor until they struck the boy.
The victim cried out as the darkness coiled around him...
Skylar recoiled, releasing the boy's hand.
A sharp pain stabbed through her chest, stealing her breath.
Nathaniel immediately crouched beside her.
"What happened? What did you see?"
Skylar gasped for air.
"Someone... someone in the forest..." she whispered.
"Dark magic..."
Damian's jaw tightened.
"Can you tell where?"
Skylar closed her eyes, focusing on the flashes of her vision.
The clearing...
A leaning stone pillar...
A hollow in the ground...
"Off the western path," she whispered.
"It happened there."
Damian was already moving.
"Then we go."
The group set off again, but now they understood:
They weren't just facing a random attacker.
Someone hidden in the shadows was watching them—and waiting for their next move.
The western path stretched out before them, dark and foreboding, as if the forest itself was trying to warn them away.
Skylar's heart hammered against her ribs as she and the others moved cautiously forward.
The air grew colder, heavier—the night's damp mist clung to the fallen leaves like a shroud.
Damian led the way, sword drawn, every step sharp and deliberate.
Skylar followed closely with Nathaniel, their senses tuned to the slightest sound.
Every creak of the trees, every distant hoot of an owl seemed amplified, bouncing ominously around them.
"If you see anything—anything at all—don't move immediately," Damian whispered without turning his head.
"The enemy could be waiting for a reaction."
Skylar nodded silently, feeling the pressure building with every step.
The dark magic she had sensed from the wounded boy still lingered in the air—like invisible tendrils brushing against her skin.
The deeper they ventured into the woods, the more suffocating the atmosphere became.
The canopy above them thickened, blotting out the moonlight almost entirely.
Then they saw it.
A clearing opened before them—eerily still, deathly quiet.
In the center stood a leaning stone pillar, just like in Skylar's vision.
The ground around it was scorched and blackened, as if some unnatural fire had burned it long ago.
"This is the place," Skylar whispered.
The group halted at the edge, tense and alert.
Nathaniel knelt, brushing his fingers lightly over the scorched soil.
A fine layer of black ash clung to his gloves—sticky, almost alive.
"This wasn't caused by any natural flame," he muttered.
"Something... darker left its mark here."
Damian's expression hardened.
"Dark magic," he said grimly.
"But whoever did this—"
He scanned the clearing.
"—they're not here anymore."
Skylar frowned, unease prickling down her spine.
The magic hadn't faded completely.
It was still here, hidden just beneath the surface, pulsing faintly.
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to pull the images back into her mind—the whispering figure, the black energy seeping into the earth.
And then she heard it.
A faint crack—a branch snapping at the edge of the clearing.
Skylar's eyes snapped open.
"There!" she cried, pointing toward the trees.
In an instant, Damian and Nathaniel were moving, weapons raised.
The group surged after the shadow that darted between the trunks—a shape darker than the night itself.
It moved fast, almost unnaturally so, slipping through the forest with impossible speed.
Skylar's lungs burned as she sprinted, determination driving her forward.
She knew—if they lost the figure now, they might never uncover the truth.
Branches lashed against her arms, and the uneven ground threatened to trip her with every step.
The shadow flickered ahead of them, always just out of reach.
"This is a trap," Nathaniel growled beside her.
"Can't you feel it?"
Skylar did.
The air itself seemed wrong—thick with magic, heavy with danger.
It wasn't just that the shadow was fleeing.
It was leading them somewhere.
And they were walking straight into it.
The figure suddenly stopped.
They burst into another clearing—this one even darker, where ancient blackened stones littered the ground like broken tombs.
Skylar's heart clenched.
This was the place she had seen in her visions.
The shrine where the dark magic had been unleashed.
Damian raised his sword, but before he could strike, the figure lifted a hand.
The air around them thickened instantly—as if unseen hands gripped their limbs, freezing them in place.
The figure's voice, low and distorted, echoed across the clearing:
"I have been waiting for you."
Skylar's blood ran cold.
The voice was unfamiliar—yet it carried a bone-deep chill of recognition.
The cloaked figure took a step back.
The ground beneath them began to tremble.
The blackened stones pulsed with a sickly purple light.
"Step into the world of shadows," the figure whispered.
And with a sudden, violent motion, he struck the earth.
The ground split open.
A wave of black energy exploded outward, swallowing the clearing in darkness.
The world twisted.
Skylar screamed—though no sound left her lips—as the ground fell away beneath them.
They were falling.
Skylar's body tumbled through the void, the darkness folding around her like a living thing.
There was no up, no down—only the cold rush of air and the deafening silence of the abyss.
And then—impact.
The ground slammed into her with brutal force, knocking the air from her lungs.
For a few agonizing moments, she lay there, stunned, blinking up at a sky that was no longer the one she knew.
The heavens above were pitch-black, devoid of stars or moonlight.
A strange purplish mist clung to the warped landscape, making it impossible to see far.
The ground beneath her was cracked and dry, covered in strange, blackened roots that seemed to pulse faintly under her touch.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, Skylar pushed herself up onto her hands and knees.
Around her, the others were scattered across the clearing—Nathaniel was slowly rising to his feet, grimacing.
Damian was already upright, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword, his posture tense and alert.
This wasn't the academy's forest anymore.
The trees here were twisted, their bark black and lifeless, as if they had been petrified mid-scream.
The air was thick with a heavy, almost oily mist that clung to their skin and clothes.
"What... is this place?" Nathaniel croaked, glancing around in horror.
"The Shadow Realm," Damian said, his voice low and grim.
His eyes scanned the mist, searching for threats in every shifting shadow.
"I've heard the legends.
A mirror of our world... corrupted by ancient magic.
A place where the lost and the damned are trapped."
Skylar stood slowly, her body aching with every movement.
A heavy silence fell over them, broken only by the occasional, eerie whisper that seemed to drift from nowhere.
And then they saw him.
The cloaked figure stood at the far edge of the clearing, his dark silhouette stark against the swirling mist.
Even from a distance, his presence felt oppressive, as if the very shadows bent toward him in submission.
"Welcome," he said, his voice reverberating unnaturally through the thick air.
"I have waited long for your arrival."
Skylar's fists clenched at her sides.
"Who are you? Why bring us here?"
The figure tilted his head, a slow, almost mocking motion.
"You seek answers," he said.
"And so you shall have them.
But every truth has a cost."
He stretched out his arms—and the ground around them began to shift.
From the cracked earth, dark shapes began to rise.
Human shapes—at first formless and blurred, but slowly solidifying.
Their faces were wrong—twisted caricatures of people Skylar almost recognized.
Eyes hollow, mouths open in silent screams.
Skylar stumbled back, her heart racing.
The figures moved slowly, staggering toward them with outstretched hands.
"This is your trial," the cloaked figure intoned.
"Face your fears—or be consumed by them."
Without hesitation, Damian stepped forward, sword flashing in the dim light.
"Stay behind me!" he barked.
But Skylar knew they couldn't simply hide.
They had been brought here for a reason—and running would change nothing.
She drew a deep breath, centering herself.
The elements stirred within her.
The air around her thickened, the ground vibrated underfoot, and the faint crackle of unseen fire whispered at the edges of her senses.
The power—the one she had always struggled to control—answered her call now, like an old friend returning after a long absence.
Skylar extended her hand—and the world responded.
A circle of water spiraled up from the cracked earth, forming a shimmering barrier between them and the encroaching shades.
Threads of fire licked the air at her fingertips, while unseen currents of wind howled at her command.
Beneath her boots, the ground itself seemed to hum with power.
Damian glanced back at her once—and for the first time, she saw unguarded pride in his dark blue eyes.
"Let's finish this," he said.
Skylar nodded grimly.
They would not fall here.
Not now.
Not when the answers they sought were finally within reach.