The halls of Durmstrang were quieter than usual that evening, but it wasn't the peaceful kind of silence. It was the tense quiet of anticipation, like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. The echoes of the previous night's confrontation still lingered in the air, and Dorian could feel it. He could feel the shift, the way the other students glanced at him now, not with disdain, but with wariness. He was no longer just another ambitious student. He was a threat.
And Dorian liked it.
As he made his way through the dimly lit corridors, the shadows seemed to cling to him, drawn to the power he carried. The magic inside him thrummed softly, like the low hum of a beast lying in wait. Ever since the ritual in the hidden chamber, the magic had become a constant presence—a companion, almost. At times, it felt like an extension of himself, amplifying his strength, sharpening his senses. But there were moments, brief and fleeting, when it felt like something else entirely. Like it had a voice.
Use me.
The thought came unbidden, and Dorian's jaw clenched. It wasn't the first time he had heard the magic's silent call. Every time he used it, it wanted more. It whispered to him in the quiet moments, tempting him with promises of untold power, urging him to push further, to break boundaries, to see just how far he could go.
But there were limits. Dorian knew that. And while the thought of pushing beyond those limits was enticing, he couldn't afford to lose control. Not yet.
He rounded a corner and paused, his eyes narrowing as he spotted Matthias Borgin loitering near the entrance to the common room, flipping his silver coin as usual. Matthias noticed him immediately, a sly grin creeping across his face as he approached.
"Selwyn," Matthias said with that infuriatingly casual tone of his. "You've become quite the legend overnight."
Dorian gave him a sidelong glance but didn't respond.
Matthias continued, unbothered by Dorian's cold silence. "I have to admit, what you did to Grimmel was impressive. Brutal, even. People are talking. They're wondering what you'll do next."
Dorian slowed his steps, stopping just a few feet from Matthias. "Is that why you're here? To see what I'll do next?"
Matthias laughed softly. "I'm here because I'm curious. You've shown everyone that you're not to be trifled with, but that's only half the battle. You've set a precedent. Now, people will expect you to live up to it."
Dorian's gaze darkened, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm more than capable of living up to expectations."
"I don't doubt that." Matthias's smile widened. "But you should know that Grimmel isn't the only one who'll come for you. There are others—older students, ones who've been watching you for some time. They won't challenge you openly, of course, but they'll be waiting for the right moment. A misstep. A sign of weakness."
Dorian felt the magic stir inside him, responding to the thinly veiled threat. He had no patience for people like Matthias—those who lurked on the edges, watching and waiting, hoping to gain something from someone else's downfall.
But Matthias had his uses. He had connections, information, and for now, that made him valuable.
"I don't make missteps," Dorian said quietly, his voice as sharp as a blade.
Matthias raised an eyebrow, the silver coin dancing between his fingers. "We'll see, won't we?"
Without another word, Matthias turned and disappeared down the corridor, his laughter echoing faintly behind him.
Dorian stood there for a moment, his thoughts churning. Matthias was right about one thing—people were watching. His rise had been rapid, too rapid for some, and there would be those who wanted to bring him down. But they didn't understand the full scope of what he was capable of. Not yet.
With a soft exhale, Dorian made his way to the List House common room. The atmosphere was thick with tension. Some of the students glanced his way, their expressions nervous, others avoided eye contact altogether. Even Matthias's usual group of schemers and gossipers seemed unusually subdued. The confrontation with Grimmel had changed things, and they all knew it.
Dorian ignored their stares and headed for his dormitory. The urge to be alone, to think, had become more pressing lately. He had so much to process, so much to plan. He needed to consolidate his power before anyone else could challenge him.
But as he reached the door to his room, a familiar voice called out from behind him.
"In a hurry, Selwyn?"
Dorian turned to see Ingrid Ravnsborg standing in the doorway to the common room, her piercing blue eyes locked onto him. She stepped forward, her posture as regal and controlled as ever, though there was a faint edge to her expression, something sharper, more dangerous than usual.
"Ingrid," Dorian said calmly, though he could feel the subtle tension between them. "I didn't expect to see you."
Ingrid smiled, but it was a cold, calculating smile. "I thought it was time we talked."
Dorian's brow furrowed. "We've talked enough."
"Not about what matters," Ingrid replied, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "You think you're in control of the magic you've unlocked, but you're playing with fire, Dorian. And you know it."
Dorian's jaw tightened, but he kept his tone measured. "I've heard this lecture before, Ingrid."
"Have you?" Ingrid's eyes glinted with something darker, more serious. "Or are you just pretending to listen?"
She took another step forward, her voice barely above a whisper now. "I've seen the way you're handling it. The power. It's seductive, isn't it? The rush of it. The way it makes you feel invincible. But it's also dangerous. You're walking a very thin line."
Dorian's patience was wearing thin, the weight of her words gnawing at him, the whispering magic stirring more restlessly in response.
"I'm aware of the risks," Dorian said, his voice cold. "But I'm not like those who came before. I'm stronger."
Ingrid tilted her head, her gaze narrowing. "Strength isn't always enough. This magic… it has a will of its own, Dorian. And if you don't control it, it will control you."
There it was again—that same warning, that same doubt. Dorian had heard it too many times now, and each time, it gnawed at him a little more. But he couldn't let it show. Not to Ingrid. Not to anyone.
"You're worried," Dorian said, stepping forward, his voice lowering to match hers. "But it's not me you're worried about. You're worried that I'm surpassing you. That I'm becoming something you can't predict, something you can't control."
Ingrid's expression darkened, but she didn't step back. "I don't need to control you, Dorian. But you should listen to me when I tell you that there are forces at play here that even you don't fully understand."
Dorian's lips twisted into a cold smile. "Maybe. But I'll learn. And when I do, I'll be unstoppable."
Ingrid's eyes narrowed for a long moment, as if she was deciding whether or not to continue this conversation. Finally, she stepped back, her gaze still sharp, but something like resignation flickering behind her eyes.
"Just remember what I said, Selwyn," she murmured. "There's more at stake here than you realize."
Without waiting for a response, Ingrid turned and left the room, leaving Dorian standing alone in the dim light of the common room.
For a moment, the tension in his chest loosened, but then the whispers started again. That faint, insistent voice, always lurking just beneath his thoughts.
Power… control… use me…
Dorian closed his eyes, steadying his breath. The magic wanted to be unleashed, to be fully wielded, but there was a part of him—a small, nagging part—that wondered just how far it would go if he let it.
The urge to test it was growing stronger. He had tasted it in the fight with Grimmel, had felt the intoxicating rush of it, but he had held back. He knew he couldn't keep holding back forever. Sooner or later, he would have to give in.
He walked over to the window, looking out over the snow-covered landscape of Durmstrang. The sky was dark, the clouds thick and heavy, and the cold seemed to seep into his bones even through the glass.
How much further will I go? The question lingered in his mind.
And as he stared out into the night, the answer began to take shape, dark and certain.
As far as it took.