As Reed and Marek entered the dining hall, the quiet struck them first.
The usual cacophony of clattering trays, students calling out to friends, and the warm background hum of chatter was gone. Only the gentle buzz of magical lighting overhead remained, casting the long, polished tables in a soft golden hue. It was well past dinner time—late enough that even the stragglers had gone. The only signs of life came from the kitchen staff preparing to close for the night, and the ever-present aroma of roasted meats, spices, and freshly baked bread lingering in the air.
"Well, guess we've got the place to ourselves," Marek said with a grin, his voice echoing faintly across the empty space.
Instead of heading toward their usual choices—the standard line of hot meals and decadent dessert trays that most students flocked to—they decided to wander a little. Reed gave a slight nod when Marek suggested they explore the lesser-visited corners of the massive food hall. Their steps echoed lightly across the clean tile floors as they approached the far-left wing, a section of the cafeteria that always seemed more display than dining.
And there it was.
A massive iron roaster sat in the center of the alcove, its wide frame etched with swirling runes that glowed faintly with heat. Suspended above the runes, a whole hog slowly rotated on a spit, golden brown and glistening with juices. A steady stream of heat rose from beneath it, wafting the scent of seasoned meat into the air. The pig's skin crackled softly as fat bubbled across its surface, its rotation powered by some unseen magical mechanism that gave the whole display a timeless, ceremonial air.
"Man, that looks good, doesn't it?" Marek said, nearly drooling as he leaned forward, eyes wide with appreciation.
Reed snorted, crossing his arms. "Marek, is food all you think about?"
"Yes, yes it is," Marek replied without hesitation. "And I will have you know, a growing boy needs his good eats."
"Whatever you say, biggie."
"H-Hey! I'm not that big! Right??" Marek glanced down at himself with mock concern.
Reed laughed. "No comment."
Their voices were light, their banter easy. Reed hadn't realized how good it felt to be normal for a moment. No shadow powers, no pressure, no expectations—just two friends wandering the quiet corners of an academy that often felt way too large for its own good.
But then Reed's attention drifted back to the hog.
Something about it called to him.
He couldn't explain why, but the sight of it—this roasted animal on a spit—stirred a strange curiosity inside him. He'd had pork plenty of times before, especially in nicer restaurants during the rare occasions his mother could afford to treat them, but he'd never seen a pig whole like this. Never touched one.
Almost without realizing, Reed stepped closer and reached out.
His fingertips brushed the pig's skin—still warm, but not scalding—and in that instant, pain exploded through his hand like lightning.
"AHHHHH!"
His scream echoed across the hall as he yanked his hand back, stumbling away from the roast.
Marek nearly tripped over himself trying to get to him. "What's wrong? Is the pig hot?"
"N-No," Reed gasped, clutching his hand. "I don't know, when I touched it, it just—it hurt. I can't explain it. It was like… like something shoved itself into my head."
The pain had already started to fade, but the shock lingered.
Reed's mind buzzed.
Something was different now.
Something had entered him, or perhaps awakened inside him. In the back of his consciousness, just beyond the veil of his everyday thoughts, something had taken shape—something heavy, primal, and powerful. A form… unmistakably shaped like a hog. But not a normal one. In his mind's eye, it was massive, towering over him like a creature out of ancient folklore. And more than that—he could feel it. Just like he felt the shadowy mist that lived in his spine, just like he could command it to protect or attack.
If he willed it… he was certain it would come.
"Marek," he said, voice low and serious now. "Stand back."
"What? Why? Are you okay?" Marek's brows furrowed in concern.
"Just—just do it."
"Okay?!" Marek raised both hands and took several steps back toward the wall, watching Reed with growing confusion.
Reed took a breath.
He focused inward, not on the pain, but on that presence—the pig-shaped entity that now sat curled in the shadows of his mind. With careful thought, he reached out to it with the same instinct he used to control his mist. As he did, he felt the familiar ripple at the base of his spine—the sensation of movement, of something flowing out from within him.
The shadows stirred.
They spilled from his back like dark water, swirling around his feet, then lifting into the air in thick strands. The shape that began to form was unlike anything he had summoned before. It grew large, broad, and powerful, the mist hardening along its frame, folding in on itself to create skin—no, armor. It glistened like onyx in the light, dark and imposing.
And then it stood there. A hog, but one born of darkness and intent.
It was the size of a horse, solid and real, its head lowered slightly as it huffed slow breaths from its massive nostrils. Black bristles lined its back, and its tusks—jagged and sharp—curved outward like the ends of cruel hooks.
Marek stared, eyes wide. "Hey, uh, Reed? What exactly is that?"
"I'm not too sure myself," Reed replied, still catching his breath. "But I think I may have just found another one of my powers."
"Another one? Wow, add it to the list, am I right?" Marek said, laughing nervously.
Reed stepped forward.
He didn't hesitate as he raised a hand to the creature. It tilted its head toward him, lowering its snout to meet his palm. The surface was hard but warm, like something alive… something bonded. His fingers rested there, and the connection between them became clear. It wasn't just a construct—it was an extension of him. No mana. No spells. Just will.
Just like the mist.
Reed looked at Marek, a quiet wonder in his eyes.
He had spent weeks thinking his lack of mana made him weaker. That he had to compensate. That he was missing something fundamental to survive here at the academy.
But this—this changed everything.
Maybe he didn't need mana.
Maybe what he had was something else entirely. Something older. Something that defied normal understanding. He didn't know if the hog was a one-time accident or the first of many beasts sleeping inside the corners of his shadow-bound mind.
But he knew one thing.
This wasn't a curse.
It was the greatest blessing he could have ever received.