The Academy of Aetherhold bustled with energy as students hurried through its grand halls, each eager to prove their skill and reputation. At the very back of a crowd of young mages and warriors, a single figure lurked, shuffling forward with all the grace of a toddler learning to walk.
Caelum Astor, the academy's "Lost Lamb," stumbled over his own feet, dropping his books onto the marble floor with a loud clatter. Snickers erupted around him, and he heard someone mutter, "Seriously? How did this guy even get into Aetherhold?"
Caelum looked up sheepishly, adjusting his glasses and giving the crowd a weak smile. "Sorry," he mumbled, doing his best to look embarrassed.
"Pathetic," sneered one of the upper-class students, walking away with a roll of their eyes.
Caelum watched them go, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The weak act? It was an art form at this point. The very idea that these so-called "elite students" thought he was harmless amused him. He brushed off his uniform, picked up his books, and shuffled away, looking every bit the awkward, clueless student.
But as he turned the corner, his expression shifted, his gaze sharpening with cold amusement. *If only they knew the truth,* he thought.
---
That night, Aetherhold was blanketed in silence. Most students were asleep, their minds oblivious to the shadows lurking just outside the academy grounds. Caelum, however, was far from harmless. Draped in a black cloak, face concealed by a mask, he had transformed from the "Lost Lamb" into the one figure whispered of in fearful, hushed tones: the Shadow Sovereign.
His target tonight was a small cult, known for dabbling in forbidden magic and causing trouble near the academy. It had been enough of a nuisance that the academy had secretly requested intervention. And so, Caelum—the true Caelum—moved soundlessly through the forest, his footsteps barely disturbing the ground beneath him.
He approached the cult's hideout, hidden among the trees, and paused, assessing the guards. With a casual flick of his wrist, a thin blade of shadow formed in his hand. In an instant, he moved forward, swift as the wind, slicing through the guards before they even realized he was there. They crumpled to the ground without a sound, and he felt a rush of satisfaction.
"Now, where is the fun?" he murmured to himself.
---
Inside the hideout, the cultists were gathered, chanting around a dimly lit altar. The leader, an older man with a crazed look in his eyes, raised his hands, calling upon forbidden powers. "Tonight, we summon the darkness! Tonight, we—"
The door burst open with a loud crack, and the cultists turned, their expressions shifting from awe to terror as they saw the Shadow Sovereign standing in the doorway, his eyes glinting from behind his mask.
"Oh, don't mind me," Caelum said, his voice dripping with mock politeness. "Go on, summon whatever you like. I could use a warm-up."
The cult leader snarled, clutching his staff. "You think you can stop us, fool? We are chosen by the shadows!"
Caelum laughed, a sound that echoed ominously in the room. "Oh, I'm not here to stop you. I'm here to finish this."
The cult leader raised his staff, chanting words of power. A blazing ball of flame shot toward Caelum, but he sidestepped it with ease, flicking his hand to extinguish the fire with a wave of darkness. The cultists gasped, realizing they were hopelessly outmatched.
"Is that all?" Caelum asked, his tone almost bored. "I expected a bit more from the 'chosen of the shadows.'"
He raised a hand, summoning a wave of dark energy that swept through the room, knocking the cultists to the ground. One by one, he dispatched them, his movements fluid and effortless. Each cultist fell silently, and in mere minutes, the room was empty, the echoes of their chants replaced by a heavy silence.
The cult leader trembled, backing away. "W-wait! I-I can give you power! Knowledge! Anything you want—"
Caelum tilted his head, feigning consideration. "Tempting, but…" He smirked, the mask doing little to hide the cold gleam in his eyes. "I'm already more powerful than you could imagine."
With a final wave of his hand, a shadow blade shot forward, piercing the leader's heart. The cultist crumpled to the ground, lifeless, as Caelum turned to leave.
---
The next morning, Caelum was back to his familiar role as the academy's harmless "Lost Lamb." He yawned, stumbling through the halls with exaggerated clumsiness, catching the occasional glare from his classmates.
Two students nearby were talking, and Caelum couldn't resist eavesdropping.
"Did you hear? That cult outside the academy was wiped out last night! People are saying the Shadow Sovereign did it. They say he's…unstoppable."
The other student shivered. "I heard he can move through walls, that he's more monster than man. Who knows what he actually looks like?"
Caelum fought back a grin. *Oh, if only they knew,* he thought, hiding his amusement as he clumsily bumped into a doorframe. The students around him laughed, calling him an idiot, but he simply shrugged and played the part of the academy's least impressive student.
Inside, though, he was the most dangerous force they would ever know.