The first thought that came to Damian's mind was simple and grim: I'm screwed. One of the third-years had likely spotted him, and there was no way he'd escape unscathed. But as the group kept chatting, it seemed the person who noticed him hadn't raised the alarm yet. He glanced down at his feet—and his stomach flipped.
He was sinking.
A gasp escaped his lips before he could stop it.
"Did you hear that?" one of the students asked.
"Yeah, it seems not all first-years are in bed yet," replied another, his tone laced with irritation.
The leader of the group squinted, pointing directly toward Damian's hiding spot. "It came from over there. You better come out now, or it's going to get messy for you."
Damian stayed silent, frozen in the shadows.
"I'm giving you one last chance. Don't be stupid," the student growled, conjuring a fireball in his hand.
Still no response.
The third-year didn't hesitate. He hurled the flame at the bushes, incinerating them in a burst of heat and light. Yet, when the smoke cleared, there was nothing. His frustration was evident as he scanned the charred ground. If only the grass hadn't burned, he might have seen footprints—or something.
"Must've been an animal," he muttered, retreating to his friends. The group dismissed it as nothing; their laughter resumed.
Beneath their feet, Damian floated in a void of darkness. His shadow had swallowed him entirely just before the fireball hit. Suspended in the eerie, weightless space, he felt an uncomfortable mix of awe and unease. He felt uneasy just floating there and wished there was a surface he could walk on. As if the void was listening to his thoughts, Damian fell and hit the 'ground' hard.
Ouch!
It Listened To Your Thoughts And Responded Accordingly. Damian, This Is A Domain—Your Domain. Within It, You Hold Absolute Power. But Mastery Will Take Time.
My own domain? Damian thought, his pulse quickening. This shadow affinity might be more powerful than I imagined.
Damian stood and began wandering the infinite expanse, testing the space. But after what felt like hours, frustration set in. There's no way out of here, he thought.
Think, Damian. If This Space Responds To You, Then Imagine An Exit.
Realization dawned. He closed his eyes, focusing on the image of a door. The air shimmered, and a simple wooden door materialized ahead. He opened it, stepping through eagerly—only to find himself back in the same endless void.
"Of course, it wouldn't be that easy," Damian muttered, slamming the next door he conjured. Eventually, exhaustion overtook him, and he collapsed onto the 'ground.' When he awoke, clarity struck: I didn't enter this domain through a door. I entered through my shadow.
He focused again, imagining the sensation of sinking as he had before. The ground softened beneath him, and he was pulled downward, faster than before. Moments later, he emerged from his shadow at the exact spot where he had been hiding.
The courtyard was now empty, the third-years gone. Damian exhaled in relief. He had to get to bed quick. He was tempted to use his domain but couldn't risk anyone seeing it, so he used the stairs instead.
Over the next few weeks, Damian practiced obsessively, honing his newfound ability. He coined it shadow travel. As long as he could recall the exact details of a place he had been, he could slip through his shadow and emerge there. He even experimented with following people, connecting his shadow to theirs, and trailing them silently. When he showed the technique to Deimus, his friend's jaw dropped.
"So what—you've got teleportation now?" Deimus asked, wide-eyed.
"Sort of. I call it shadow travel," Damian replied casually.
"That's insane! Can you take someone with you?"
"Haven't tried yet."
Deimus' grin turned mischievous. "We have to test it. No more walking for us! Oh, by the way, have you seen the notice board? The beast pen is looking for volunteers to help care for the creatures. They're offering compensation too."
Damian's interest piqued. "I'm in. Let's apply tomorrow. I'm beat tonight."
Between shadow practice and relentless training with the dummy swords in Professor Nix's class, Damian was exhausted. His progress had stalled recently due to the mysterious Codex he had been studying. The text had stopped translating itself; the last paragraph hinting at a specific sword needed to unlock more. The sword's pommel, it seemed, required an insignia matching an embedded orifice in the Codex. Damian had scoured the academy's armory without success and had put the search on hold to focus on improving his skills. "Tomorrow then." Deimus agreed, leaving with a wave. He shadow travelled to his room after making sure the coast was clear for him to do. After he had taken a bath, he hastily threw on some clothes and dashed into the common room, meaning to use their door to get, He didn't want to use shadow travel always, it was slightly tiring and also had no desire to be in and out of his room without his roommates seeing him, this he felt will raise some questions or even suspicions. He had no desire for anyone to know of his ability, Keith already was a liability, apart from him, Deimus and the two little helpers he had, no one knew, for it all what was worth, his ability was a dud and the supreme monks had wasted their time, the only thing he had was a powerful pressure. This was the story he had made sure had spread around with Aydha transforming into different people spreading the rumor. Later that week, Damian bumped into Cole and the others on his way to the academy gates. Cole grinned mischievously. "Wait up! We're heading into the city. You should come with us."
Damian hesitated. First-years were only allowed outside with strict conditions: they had to agree to tracking spells and return within the curfew. The idea of magical surveillance didn't sit well with him, but he was curious.
"Where are we going?" Keith asked, voicing Damian's own unspoken question.
Cole's grin widened. "You'll see. Trust me—it's worth it."