The sun hung low in the sky, casting long, golden beams across the training field beside Professor Harlen's office. Reed stood silently in the center, his shadow stretching out across the packed dirt like an old friend.
"Alright," Harlen called, stepping out from the small building with a worn satchel slung over one shoulder. "No warm-up lecture. I want to see what you do with those shadows of yours."
Reed nodded. It had been a week since he had started his lectures with professor harlen, and with his help, he had found multiple things about his ability even during his break times with Marek and Lannis, growing ever closer with the two of them.
He wasn't exactly eager to show off, but he wasn't shy about it either. Without a word, he closed his eyes, took a breath, and summoned the shadowy mist that lived within him. It responded immediately, curling around his limbs like smoke and darkening the ground beneath his feet.
"Controlled. Intentional. You're not just letting it flow—you're shaping it."
Reed opened his eyes. "I've had a lot of time to figure it out.."
With a faint hum, the mist shifted. First, a thin line of darkness extended from Reed's hand like a ribbon, swirling in the air before snapping into a spear-like point. It hovered for a moment, then dissipated.
"Interesting," Harlen said, kneeling and taking out a notebook from his bag. "Show me more. Defensive capabilities, offensive. Anything you've tried before."
Reed exhaled again, slower this time, and let the mist settle around his feet. From the shadows, small limbs rose like hands—slim, wraithlike tendrils that formed a protective dome around him.
"They're not that strong," he admitted, glancing around the shell of mist. "But they deflect small things. Arrows, light magic blasts."
Harlen jotted a few things down with a quiet murmur. "And the offensive applications?"
Reed pulled the shadows back inward, focusing them into a single, coiled strand around his arm. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the mist cracked out like a whip and slammed into one of the wooden training dummies near the edge of the field. The dummy teetered, then fell.
Harlen raised an eyebrow. "Very efficient. But we'll have to work on duration, energy use, and control under pressure."
"It moves how I think it should. When I get scared or angry, it reacts faster. Sometimes it does things before I even think to do them."
"Emotional linkage, then," Harlen said thoughtfully. "We'll explore that. But first, let's test your limits. How much can you summon? How far can you reach?"
Reed nodded and stepped back, bracing himself. This time, he let it come—more of the mist than before, sweeping out from beneath him like ink spilling over the field. Shadows surged outward, rolling across the dirt, swirling in patterns that instinctively avoided Harlen and his notes.
It felt like holding a muscle at full tension. The more he pushed, the more the strain built—not painful, but heavy, like dragging a net through thick water.
After twenty seconds, the mist began to thin, the edges unraveling like smoke in a breeze. Reed clenched his fists and let it dissipate.
Harlen stood quietly for a moment, then finally looked up. "That was excellent, Reed. Especially without formal mana support."
"I can't tell if that's a compliment or just pity," Reed said with a half-smile.
Harlen actually chuckled. "It's both. But mostly a compliment."
The two sat down in the grass after that, catching their breath and sharing a water flask. The academy bell tolled faintly in the distance, signaling the change between class blocks. Reed could almost see Marek racing between buildings with his overstuffed bag and chaotic hair, probably already running late to basic combat.
"Professor," Reed said quietly after a moment, "when you said five others like me… do you know who they are?"
Harlen looked out across the field. "Some of them, yes. But I do not know all their powers. That knowledge is up to the professors who chose them. Each student has something that sets them apart—like your shadows. One has a bloodline trait that hasn't appeared in centuries. Another was born with an internal mana source, a rare mutation that allows them to generate mana endlessly, albeit slowly. You're not the only strange one, Reed."
"I didn't say I was," Reed muttered, more to himself.
Harlen turned back to him. "You're not strange. You're unknown. There's a difference."
Reed let that sit in the air for a while, staring down at his hand. The mist still clung to his fingers faintly, like it didn't want to fully leave. It made him wonder—what exactly was this? Not just the power… but the reason for it. Why him?
They trained for another hour. Harlen didn't push too hard—he paced it slowly, carefully, the way a mentor might guide someone not just toward strength, but toward understanding. He gave Reed feedback on form, technique, even breathing. Occasionally he had Reed spar with stone constructs to practice reaction time and positioning.
By the time they wrapped up, the sun was nearly setting. Harlen packed his things with quiet efficiency.
"We'll continue tomorrow. Same time."
Reed nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve. "Understood."
As he turned to leave, Harlen called out one more time. "Oh, and Reed?"
He paused.
"Whatever this power is, whatever it becomes… don't be afraid of it. It's a part of you. You're not its prisoner."
Reed looked back at him and gave a small, uncertain nod.
"I'll try."
The walk back across campus was peaceful. The lamplights lining the stone paths had begun to glow with soft golden light, and the buildings—gothic and beautiful in a somber way—stood in elegant contrast to the greenery around them. Small groups of students were lounging on benches or reviewing notes by the fountains, their laughter drifting through the air like birdsong.
As Reed approached the dorms, he saw Marek leaning against the entrance, arms crossed and clearly waiting.
"Took you long enough," Marek said, raising an eyebrow. "I was about to send a search party."
"I was busy being mysterious and special," Reed replied dryly. "You know, secret training and all."
Marek grinned and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Well, I'm starving. Come on, let's go eat before the cafeteria closes."
They walked side by side into the dorm building, their voices low and teasing, their laughter blending with the calm of the evening. For now, the world outside could wait. The mysteries, the gateway, the missing students—those would come in time.
But for now, Reed was just a boy with a shadow, a mission, and two months to become something more.